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#not cringing at listening to my own voice anymore
feliciteacup · 1 year
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i just realized i havent posted here in weeks oops
i have a youtube and a tiktok where i post mostly everything but i keep forgetting to post it to here too 😭 so if you like my stuff maybe you should follow me there instead of here
honestly i dont know if theres even like a community or interest for voice acting on tumblr or anything but im still here just less active here than other places!
[lots of rambling in the tags...]
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falling-endlessly · 4 months
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Boomerang (part 2)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"
"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."
Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"
"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.
"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."
"Vel—"
"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"
"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."
"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Bullshit!" She growled.
Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.
After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."
Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."
She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."
Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.
"Thanks," you said sincerely.
She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.
****
Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.
His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.
Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.
"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."
Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?
But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"
Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."
"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"
Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.
Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.
Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.
"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.
"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?
"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."
By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."
He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.
"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.
"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.
"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"
She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."
Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.
You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.
And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.
"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.
"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.
****
"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.
Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.
"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"
"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."
"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.
Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."
Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.
"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.
"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.
"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.
"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"
"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"
 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"
"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."
"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.
"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"
"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"
"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.
"I'll kill him first."
"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.
"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.
"You what?" you snapped.
"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"
The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.
"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"
"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"
Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."
"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"
"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.
"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."
You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.
"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."
Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.
"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.
****
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah
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eyesthatroll · 3 months
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gatorade kisses
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pairing; matthew rempe x fem!reader
warning(s); highkey cringe… (don’t say i didn’t warn you), fluff, kissing, NOT edited.
word count; 0.95k
authors note; i fear i have become endeared to ny’s baby goon . don’t crucify me
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"Don't be mad at me." Your eyes lift from the pages of your book, and you nudge your glasses to rest at the peak of your head, casting a discerning gaze over him. The remnants of game day attire have been replaced by sweatpants and a hoodie, and his once-styled hair now appears tousled, damp from the rain that drizzled outside. Positioned just before the door, his Air Forces firmly planted on the welcome mat, he awaits your reaction.
"Did you not receive my text, Matthew?" Your tongue prods the inside of your cheek, as you release a heavy sigh. Returning your attention to the book, you gracefully lower your glasses back down to your nose. Amidst the audible shuffling, possibly the thud of shoes meeting the floor, your eyes stay fixed on the pages before you. However, your concentration wavers, and you find yourself not truly absorbed in the text anymore, your eyes just dancing over the Sans Serif.
You feel a dip in the leather beside you, and before you can voice your protest, your book is swiftly snatched from your hands and deposited on the end table to Matt's left. "I was reading that," you huff, "and I explicitly told you not to come over."
"I take it you saw the game." He concludes.
"I didn't need to; it was all over Twitter." Meeting his deep brown eyes, bruised and tarnished black from countless hits to the face, you can sense the pain he's concealing. A longing to reach out and comfort him tugs at you, but the sight becomes unbearable, prompting a cringe and a quick turn away.
He was such a beautiful boy, and you hated seeing him banged up like this.
His hand gently presses into your thigh, a subtle squeeze accompanying his plea, "Will you please look at me? I'm sorry."
Tears pool at your waterline, and you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, striving to keep them at bay. Slowly, you turn your head back to him. "I don't want you to get hurt," your voice leaves your lips in a shaky breath.
"Hey," he begins, his hand gently grasping your arm, tugging you towards him until you're straddling his waist. "Hey," he repeats. His thumbs reach up, delicately wiping away the tears that have trickled down your cheeks. "I'm okay."
"You look like you're in so much pain." Your hand gently rises to caress his cheek, mindful of the bruised skin.
"I'm not." He attempts to reassure you, but the waiver in his voice betrays his words.
"Please don't lie to me." You murmur, a desperate plead to the boy in front of you.
He exhales a deep sigh, diverting his attention momentarily before speaking, "It only hurts a little bit."
Seeking his touch, you lean into his embrace, your head finding the crook of his neck as salty tears cascade freely, quietly. His arms envelop you, hands gently rubbing your back in an attempt to provide comfort.
After God knows how long, the storm within you subsides, and your sole focus shifts to the rhythmic cadence of his breathing, the reassuring sensation of his chest rising and falling against your own.
“It won’t always be like this,” he says, “I promise.”
Drawing back from him, you release a deep breath. "Listen, I don't mean to get emotional," you start, a strained laugh escaping your lips as you wipe your eyes with your palms. He joins in, sharing a laugh that mirrors your own.
“I just—if you tell me you know what you’re doing, or that you have people looking out for you, I’ll try not to worry so much.”
His head tilts ever so slightly, and his fingers extend, delicately tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You surrender to the warmth of his touch, and his hand lingers at your cheek, caressing gently. "The coaching staff is great, and so are the guys."
“I don’t want you being the league’s punching bag.”
“I can handle myself.” He defends.
“Matthew.” You huff out.
He sighs, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Do you trust me?”
Your gaze softens. “Course’ I do”
“Trust me, then.”
Your teeth graze your bottom lip, nibbling softly as you mull over his words. After a moment of contemplation, you respond with a simple, "Okay."
He quirks a brow. “Okay?”
“Yes Matty, I’m trusting you to not be a dumbass.”
A snort escapes his lips, morphing into a full-bellied laugh—a sound you find utterly captivating. The reading timer you set on your phone chimes from the other side of the couch, an unwelcome reminder of the outside world and the passage of time.
“It’s late.” You comment, “You tired?”
He nods. “A bit.”
"Let’s head to bed, hm?" You attempt to shift away, but his large hands firmly grasp your waist, keeping you in place.
"Wait," he groans, drawing you closer to him.
"What?" you ask, a questioning smile playing on your lips.
“I believe you have something for me?”
Your brows furrow in confusion, your mind retracing the events of the day in an attempt to recall if you've forgotten anything. It's only when his lips form a pout that you roll your eyes at the boy in front of you, but lean in nonetheless.
His lips meet yours softly, moving with a gentle rhythm. His hands migrate from your waist to your bum, delivering a cheeky squeeze that elicits a gasp from you, granting him complete access to your mouth. The scruff of his facial hair lightly scratches against the area above your top lip, and you pull away to catch your breath, Matt doing the same. "You taste like Gatorade."
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peachesofteal · 11 months
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Omg the new drabble of pregnant Darling finding out that they did it on purpose???? GOLD. You're such an amazing writer! What do you think hurt her the most when she found out? How would Johnny and Simon react to her finding out? I can't help but imagine all the possibilities- Johnny sinking to his knees hugging Darling's belly and begging her to listen and understand and Simon being on edge because he's worried you might run or stress out, which isn't good for the baby. It's just!!!! No thoughts just Dead Disco pregnancy fic 💀
No thoughts we're just ruining Darling's life over here (kind of) Also thank you love!
baby trap au 18+ Dark themes
"How could you do this?" you can hardly see them through your tears, and your voice cracks, raw, and desperate. "How could you do this me?" Johnny's eyes are wide, and his own tears track down his face while Simon tries to reach for you.
"Darling-"
"Don't touch me." The air in the apartment is thin, too thin, and you gasp for it while you try to put some space between yourself and the two of them. You're backing away into the bedroom now, but not any farther away from where they encroach on your space.
"We love you." Johnny says, stepping closer. "We love you so much."
"This isn't love!" This is abuse, isn't it? "This... I trusted you."
"We do love you. We have always loved you." It's a plea, a promise, words that used to hold so much weight now empty and foreign. Strange to hear coming from Simon's mouth.
"No. Get away from me." They betrayed you. They used you. They... they... they trapped you. "Oh, god." You moan, hand covering your face. "Oh my god." Your cheeks are soaking wet now, chest heaving as your lungs tear themselves in two with the strength of your sobs. You entire body feels weak, like you could fall to floor, or float away at any second. "No, no no no. N-no, oh my god." You can hear them talking, but you feel like you're drowning, or being crushed under the weight of everything your mind is trying to process, and then only thing you can do is sob harder.
"-call the doctor."
"if she can't-"
"Darling, can you-"
"Darling-"
Warm arms wrap around you, and then there's a heartbeat beneath your ear, thumping fast, but steadily and strong. It's Johnny's, you can tell, just by the fabric of the shirt, and you clench your eyes shut when you feel a warm hand pressing to your belly.
"We need you to try to relax." It's Simon's voice, near your ear and you cringe. "Your stress could spike your blood pressure." You shake your head, and try to shift away but Johnny holds you firm while he whispers to you.
"We love you so much, so, so much. We can't live without you, we don't want to. And maybe, we made a mistake. Maybe... we did something wrong but- but... we would never hurt you, darling girl. We would never do anything to harm you. You're safe with us. You're still safe with us." This is harm. You have harmed me. The words ring in your mind, but you can't get a word out through your cries.
"Love, can you hear me?" Johnny asks, and you blink to try to clear your vision when a big hand cradles your face.
"Darling, look at me." Simon pleads but you can't, and you turn away to bury your face in Johnny's chest. You sob even harder, throat raw, and Simon's hand shifts to your back, where he rubs up and down your spine in an attempt to soothe you.
You cry until you can't anymore, until they put you to bed, unable to respond to them, unwilling to speak. Silent. When they ask you if you're hungry, or if you'd like to sleep, you stay silent, lost in your own tears, your own devastation, your own loss, until your eyes are slipping closed and you're falling into a dark, deep sleep.
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am only tangentially aware of the sexyman poll thing, but seeing ppl on my dash, whom i've never seen talk about wtnv, suddenly going to bat for cecil so hard gives me actual real emotions? and i can't even be cringe about it. when i found wtnv i was an unmedicated undergraduate student living month to month in an apartment in a shit neighborhood, and that podcast deadass kept me from a stint in a psych ward, dude. i am years behind on the episodes, but it like, legit rewired my brain and taught me how to cope with my existential despair by making it something beautiful and funny instead of something to fear. i'm not a merch person generally, but i am literally at this moment, without even realizing it, wearing a wtnv shirt and pants (the ones with creepy on the butt, obviously. i have the booty shorts too. both are quite literally the most comfortable pants i own, jsyk). i have a fucking wtnv tattoo (that joseph fink liked on twitter 84 years ago 💅) bc it's a quote that helps me when i am Dwelling. i listened to wtnv when i was studying creative writing in school and trying to figure out my own voice, and now i am on the brink of making a substantial living off of my books, and wtnv is definitely part of why. i have episode #13 "a story about you" memorized, bc it was (and occasionally still is) my go-to when i am not able to sleep bc of my brain. it calms me down. i've watched them live in three different cities (two different countries), bc i wanted to see them, and also bc i wanted to support the cast and crew. i'm not staying up until midnight on episode drop days anymore. idk what's going on with the plot. but i will always, always, always love that stupid podcast, and owe it more than i can repay
idk, i just like seeing it on my dash again. feels good. feels organic
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pri-haaa · 4 months
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I Wish You Were A Girl.
→ Rody x Vincent (Rodincent)
→ Angst
→ Taking place after the dinner party
Description: Longing and desire swirled in his heart, his desperation to hold her overpowering his better judgement. All Rody wants is Manon to look his way again. To love him again. Her beauty was incomparable to anything he's ever known.
Yet, why did he find himself holding that same beauty cupped in his hands? Why did he find himself gazing into Vincent more intensely than he did Manon? Why did he have to be a man?
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"You don't have to serve the other guests anymore. Come on." Vincent sighed as he propped himself back up from leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. Rody nodded, a sheepish smile forming on his face. He inwardly cursed himself for getting caught snooping around in Vincent's room.
At least he had gotten the freezer key. As Vincent walked back out into the living room, Rody slipped it into his pocket.
He followed behind Vincent, unsure of what to do or even say. He had a hard time figuring out how to act in Vincent's domineering presence. It was unnerving, but a little fun to piece together the puzzle that was his personality. Rody found himself sitting on the odd couch Vincent owned, quiet and still.
"...You did well tonight." Vincent's voice reached his ears. It was strangely quiet, as if he was struggling to string his words together. "Oh, yeah, it's no problem. Happy to help, I guess...?"
Rody cringed at himself. He was so obviously nervous, it was almost laughable. Vincent turned to him, his piercing, tired eyes boring into Rody, causing him to avert his gaze quickly. "You seem nervous. Do I make you uncomfortable?" Vincent asked.
"What? Oh, no! No, it isn't that..." Rody quickly reassured him. He couldn't offer a further explanation as he himself didn't know why he was so nervous. Why did Vincent's gaze make him squirm?
"I thought compliments were supposed to put you at ease..." Vincent groaned under his breath. "I thought...we were getting close."
Rody blinked once or twice. He wasn't sure if he heard correctly. Vincent sighed tiredly, trying to find his voice. "I know I...called you here to serve other guests, but...it was nice to have you here." he managed to choke out, immediately pursing his lips back into the thin, straight line they were usually in. Rody hummed.
"Yeah, I guess it was kind of fun." Rody mused, smiling a little naturally. Vincent's eyes slightly widened at the sight of that easy smile. That stupid easy smile that made him lose composure.
"...I think I'm lying." Vincent suddenly said. He was regretting it, begging himself to shut up. But he way too impulsive to listen to himself, way too deep into this shit to stop now. "I...I just wanted you here. I didn't care what you did. I just wanted you to be here."
Rody sat quietly, not daring to breathe. His stomach was doing twists and turns. "You confuse me! I don't know what to think." Vincent continued, slowly loosing control of his feelings. His feelings that he had so painstakingly tried to hide. But now they were spilling out, like a stream of sugar flowing aimlessly from his lips.
"Whenever you pass by the kitchen, my heart skips a beat! Whenever you smile at a customer, I can't help but think what it would be like to be them! Whenever you call my name, I feel like I'm floating! I-I can't understand this weird fucking feeling. You make everything malfunction, all I want to do is hold you, god dammit!"
Vincent stepped closer and closer to Rody with every breath he took in between his careless speech. His hands gripped Rody's shoulders, pushing him back so he was laying on the couch. His eyes were wide, confused, scared. His face was flushed. Rody simply stared.
"The only passion I have is for cooking. And you just...barged right into my life and took your place in my heart." Vincent panted, growing more erratic. Rody felt blood rush to his cheeks, his face heated up, and before he knew it, he was blushing like mad. It's been so long since he's heard such passionate words of love.
It's been so long since he's been pinned down, since he's been confessed to, since he's been wrapped up in the warm blanket that was a love confession. He didn't realize how much he had craved it, how much he had missed it. His eyes softened as he stared up at Vincent. He could see the regret seeping into the taller male's veins, his pale skin dusted with bright hues of red blush.
"What...even warranted this..?" he muttered. He slowly began to climb off of Rody. Rody's heart sunk. He didn't want to let this warm feeling escape. He used to think Vincent was cold to the touch...but he was so warm. So warm...and he wanted to keep it. He quickly pulled Vincent back onto him, his hands shooting out and cup his face.
Someone loved him. Someone fucking loved him.
Without thinking, Vincent lowered his face, his lips connecting with Rody's. They were soft, smooth, and clearly experienced in the art of kissing. They moved perfectly in sync with Rody's lips. Rody's eyes fluttered shut and he began to kiss back. He could feel the warmth and desperation of Vincent's love enveloping him, causing him to involuntarily lean closer. It's been too damn long since he's experienced such passion. The last time he felt so at peace, hell, the last time he ever kissed someone was when--
Manon.
Rody's eyes snapped open upon the sudden image flashing across his brain. First, it was one image. Then, his mind was plagued with images of Manon, Rody's beloved. The girl who had left him, the girl who he never stopped chasing.
Vincent's lips worked so passionately, Rody found himself almost succumbing back into the warmth. But...what was he doing kissing a man? What the hell was he even doing?
Rody pulled away, panting softly. "N-No..! No, you...can't." he stammered, unable to stop his lips from quivering. Vincent looked confused and a little mortified. "I'm...sorry. I thought you were enjoying it..." he murmured, his hands starting to tremble.
Rody sat up, slowly pushing Vincent off of him. "Vincent, you can't...ugh, how do I say this? We can't happen." Rody tried to explain. Vincent looked confused. "I'm...doing this for Manon. Everything I've ever done was for her. I can't just do this after working so hard. No, I can't do this. Not with you." Rody sighed, his eyebrows furrowing.
"With me?" Vincent's voice was quiet and hurt. Rody rubbed his temples and looked Vincent in the eyes. "I-I don't know, Vince, I just...I wish you were a girl." he muttered before standing up.
He walked out of Vincent's apartment and made his way back home, leaving Vincent alone. Leaving him alone to regret everything he did and to hate the tears that were welling up in his eyes.
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The End (Stars Always Seem To Fade)
Luke Castellan x gn!reader
Word Count: 1.16k
WARNINGS: MAJOR PJO SPOILERS (especially The Last Olympian), death, stabbing, slight mention of sex, mentions of betrayal, some swearing, violence, cringe, pure sadness, ANGST, unhappy ending.
A/N: Hey, y'all I'm new here. I'm just gonna drop this fic and run, but just wanted to let y'all know that I did take some quotes directly from the book and I do not claim those words as mine. What's mine is mine and what is Rick Riordan's is Rick Riordan's. Also, I based this a bit on the song "The End (Stars Always Seem to Fade) by The Warning.
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You sobbed on the elevator floor as it made its way up to Olympus, as slowly as possible, it seemed to you. Luke was the only thought that ran through your mind.
Memories of his friendship when you first arrived at Camp all those years ago. Of him teaching you to fight with a sword. Of your first kiss with him, of your first time with him. He had been your first everything; he had been your everything.
You never forgave him for betraying you. He would never forgive you for betraying him, for being Percy's spy.
You knew that it was all going to end today. No matter how it ended, though, you needed to see him. Even if he wasn't Luke anymore and it was only Kronos inside him.
The elevator dinged, signaling that you were now on Olympus. You pulled yourself and your sword off the floor and as soon as the door opened, you ran. You ran as fast as you could to the throne room, praying to whoever would listen that you would get there on time before everything went down.
You burst into the throne room to find Luke -- or, Kronos -- disarming Percy with Backbiter.
"STOP!" you yelled, catching Kronos's attention. He made his way toward you, slashing with Backbiter, but you blocked the hit with your own sword. "Luke, it's not too late to stop this. This is going to end one way or another."
Kronos roared. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"
You smirked. "We both know Luke isn't dead. I've been around you for the past few months. Luke's fighting and I'm sure you've noticed that he's one stubborn bastard."
Kronos pushed against your sword but you stood your ground.
"Luke, please," you whispered. "I know you're scared but I need you to fight. Fight him." You let out a soft sob. "And I need you to know that despite everything, despite the betrayal, the lies, the blood on our hands, I am still in love with you. And I know that love is hopeless now, but my love for you never died. So fight, Luke!"
"I will crush you, child!" Kronos screamed as he continued pushing against you.
"No, you won't. Keep fighting. You're still holding Kronos back even now."
"LIES!" When Kronos pushed again, you lost your balance and he struck your face, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you fell to the ground.
You took a quick look around you, Annabeth, Percy, and Grover were all watching, Annabeth was crying, but they were as safe as they could be in this situation.
Kronos loomed above you with Backbiter raised. "To the farthest star and back..." you said. You laughed. "Our stupid little saying."
Kronos stared at the sword in your hand and he staggered. His eyes snapped to the blood on your chin. "The farthest star."
He gasped. "Y/N," he whispered, but it wasn't Kronos's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward as you stood up. "You're bleeding...."
Immediately, you grabbed Backbiter from him, throwing it to the side and allowing it to spin into the hearth.
"Y/N!" Annabeth shouted. You turned and he slid her dagger to you, the dagger Luke had given her so many years ago. You picked it up and nodded your thanks to her.
Kronos growled. "Stupid girl." His whole body appeared to be glowing and turning gold, just as his eyes were.
He gasped once again. Luke's voice pleaded with you, "He's changing. Help. He's... he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please--"
"NO!" Knronos bellowed. He stumbled toward Backbiter in the hearth. You were frozen where you were, just watching as Kronos grabbed the sword from the hearth before screaming in pain and dropping it.
Luke turned back to you and he fell onto his knees. You carefully went to him. "Please, Y/N."
You kneeled in front of him. Tears fell from his eyes. You wiped them away. You took a moment there to memorize him. His dark curls you loved to run your fingers through as you lay on his chest. His ears you loved to whisper dirty jokes and sweet nothings into. His eyes you loved to get lost in. His scar, nose, and jawline you loved to place kisses on. His lips you loved to make out with.
"Can you control him?" you asked.
Luke nodded as he moved one of his charred hands to cup your face. You moved closer to him, and then you kissed him. You kissed him knowing it would be the last time.
When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his. "Show me where it is," you whispered.
He unlatched the side straps of his armor to expose some skin under his left arm. He took gentle hold of your hand holding Annabeth's dagger. He never once broke your gaze.
"I love you," he said before you both stabbed the dagger into his Achilles Heel.
Luke screamed, his eyes glowed. The throne room shook as an aura of energy surrounded Luke, glowing so bright you had to shut your eyes and remove your hands from him to cover your face.
It went silent.
When you opened your eyes, you found Luke lying by the hearth. Around him was a circle of ash. His left side was bloody. His eyes -- his beautiful brown eyes -- were open.
You pulled his head into your lap and pulled the knife from him. "Hi," you said, not knowing what else to say.
He smiled up at you despite the pain. "Hi."
Percy, Annabeth, and Grover came closer to you and Luke. Annabeth had tears in her eyes.
Luke gazed at her. "I'm so sorry."
"You were a hero in the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium," Annabeth promised.
Luke weakly shook his head. "Think... rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."
"Overachiever," you chuckled.
He smiled again up at you. "Y/N, I've loved you ever since you stepped foot into Camp Half-Blood and I never stopped loving you. Through all of it. I'll never stop loving you. To the farthest star and back."
Tears flowed down your face. "We really should have come up with a better saying. That was horrible."
"What? What could be better than a saying we came up with as cringey and stupid sixteen-year-olds?" He laughed then winced.
"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can--"
"Grover," Luke interrupted. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing..." He coughed.
He gripped Percy's sleeve. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... Don't let it happen again."
"I won't," Percy replied. "I promise."
Luke nodded then looked back at you. "I love you... to the farthest--" he coughed, "--to the farthest star and back, Y/N."
His eyes closed and his body went slack.
A sob tore through you.
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katyaromanoffpetrova · 3 months
Text
A lifetime of dates (part 2)
After being together for twenty years, Natasha and Katya have been on many dates in their lifetime. In this series, we see one from every part of their lives.
- Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova from the Forgotten Ghost series) - Wordcount: 2.1k - Warnings: Tony being his usual asshole self (lovingly), suggestive talk, crowds? - We're continuing with the The Avengers movie (post battle of New York) do not repost my work as your own or translate my work Masterlist
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2012
''Hot damn.'' A wolf-whistle echoed in the room. 
Natasha, fiddling with her dangling earring, slowly turned to the culprit, careful not to drop the clutch wedged between her arm and her side. Her eyes narrowed, daring him to continue, but the man clearly held no regard for his life.
''That's what you've been hiding under that suit?''
''Stark,'' Steve scolded him, shaking his head in disappointment.
Week one of living in the Tower. It had been a… challenge to adapt to the new situation. 
For two spies who worked alone, lived alone, and stayed in the shadows all their lives, it was a big change to suddenly be a part of the most famous team in the world. And to live with them. Seven big characters in one building had already led to annoyances.
People—Stark—not cleaning up after himself, Clint hogging the TV, Steve not letting anyone put their feet on the coffee table, Thor accidentally smashing said coffee table by simply putting his hammer down.
Natasha found herself struggling to settle. Change wasn't her favorite thing, especially when things had been so good at SHIELD. But there was one place she ran to when her inner turmoil was strong. Or rather, one person. And now that their floor was decorated, and all their stuff moved in—two bags of clothes, a plant, and some picture frames—she grasped at the opportunity to go on a date, just her and Katya, away from the boys.
Staring Tony down, Natasha marched up to the couch, her heels clicking on the polished floor. From the corner of her eye, she saw Clint cringe, the fury in her eyes a very recognizable one. 
She'd been wanting to say something to the group concerning her relationship. And being two women against five men, she felt she had to act quickly to establish her power and authority.
"I'm only saying this once," she said firmly, pointedly looking the other four men in their eyes. "So get your heads out of your asses so you hear what I have to say.''
Tony's face grew a smirk, very interested in what she had to say. Bruce shrunk, like Clint. Thor just looked confused. Steve paid genuine attention.
"House rules. In case anyone was still wondering, yes, Kat and I are in a relationship. We fuck, we go on dates."
Everyone on the couch—except Tony, who perked up—shifted around and grimaced awkwardly at the mention of sex, but Natasha loved making men uncomfortable.
"Rule number one, no weird staring. We're two women, it's 2012, get over it. Don't ask who 'the man' is in the relationship. There is none, that's the whole point."
They were all silent, listening intently, and Natasha had to suppress the urge to smirk. Since aliens fell from the sky, she hadn't felt as powerful as now.
"Number two, I don't want to be made fun of or hear any ''funny'' lesbian jokes, and I'm looking at you, Stark," she warned, glaring challengingly at him. 
Tony's eyes widened with innocence, his hands raised in mock surrender, but Natasha knew, and all the men around them knew, he'd jump at the first opportunity to make a joke.
''Three." Natasha paused, her voice softening the slightest bit. "We're both in this for life. So spare yourself the trouble of trying to snatch her away from under my nose, because you won't succeed, and it'll be embarrassing for you. If I see any flirting, I won't be responsible for what I'll do to you."
Bruce looked downright terrified at her threat, scared to even look at Katya anymore in fears of upsetting Natasha. Steve just nodded somewhat awkwardly. But they were all quiet, impressed by her words. Natasha saw she hadn't frightened Tony enough, but she had a plan to deal with him later. 
"Oh, and please," she added as an afterthought, "announce yourself before you go onto our floor. It's for your own wellbeing.''
''You mean if we want to avoid a bullet to the head," Steve smiled, thinking he got the joke.
The corner of Natasha's mouth curled up. ''Something like that.''
Everyone turned to look at the hallway when footsteps swelled on. They were fast, rushed, and belonged to Katya, who struggled to clasp her bracelet around her wrist as she hurried into the room.
''Oh, here you are!'' She exclaimed, lighting up when she spotted Natasha. Her black dress was very similar to the one her redheaded girlfriend wore. Short, with thin straps, tight all the way from chest to thighs. A long black blazer had been thrown over it to act as a jacket on these chilly summer evenings.
Natasha's demeanor changed dramatically. Her stern glare faded away like snow under the hot sun, a bright endearing smile lighting up her green eyes as they took in the sight before her. She couldn't look away. Beauty like that had to be admired.
''You look beyond beautiful, as usual.'' She complimented softly, wrapping her arm around Katya's waist to pull her into her side. The men were perplexed at her attitude switch, watching wide-eyed as Natasha's soft side came out.
Katya's gaze slowly traveled over the group before it returned to Natasha. ''Why do they look like they pissed their pants?" She chuckled, knowingly raising her eyebrow. "What did you say to them?''
''Oh, just stating some house rules if we all want to live together harmoniously.'' Natasha shrugged, completely unbothered. 
Katya's eyes narrowed at her face, trying to figure out what that meant. But Natasha just stared at her with that lovesick expression. Slowly, she turned to the group. ''Did she threaten to murder you if you look at me?'' The silence that followed, together with Bruce's pale face, was enough of an answer. Katya sighed. ''Nat…''
''It's important to set the tone from the start, before they think they can walk all over us," Natasha defended herself with a smile. ''Come, we're going to be late.'' 
Katya laughed softly as Natasha took her hand and dragged her towards the elevator, but not before they heard Tony mumble, 
''I find that switch horrifying.''
Soon, they stepped into the elevator that took them down to the ground level, ready for an evening of fine dining. The city was still in ruins from the alien attack, but business mostly went on as usual. A private dinner was the perfect way to rewind.
"I leave you alone for ten minutes and you threaten our teammates." Katya chuckled, shaking her head as the doors closed. "What were the "house rules"?"
But the second the elevator started to move, Natasha pounced on her. The attraction, the lust, was too strong for her to handle. "Not important." She pushed Katya against the wall, her lips finding the underside of her jaw like a starved woman. "What is important is you looking this sexy. Good enough to eat." She mumbled lowly, teasingly biting into Katya's neck.
Katya twitched, a breathy laugh falling from her lips. "Later." She promised, trying and failing to push her girlfriend off her. Natasha wasn't done yet, her hand innocently brushing up the side of Katya's thigh.
"May I remind you that there are cameras in this elevator." A digital voice filled the space. JARVIS.
Natasha hummed, the vibrations tickling against Katya's skin. "No better way to show them you're off limits." She said smugly, only more determined to leave a trail of sloppy kisses up Katya's neck.
Katya laughed, pinching her girlfriend's side. "I'm not making a sex tape and showing it to Tony just so you can get him off my back. I think it may have the opposite effect." Another bite, this one possessive. 
Natasha was more aware than anyone of Katya's attractiveness, so she feared her girlfriend may be right. With a final kiss underneath her ear, she pulled back just as the elevator dinged. "Guess I'll have to keep you close to me then." She smirked.
"No place I'd rather be." Katya grinned, taking her hand. To her surprise, they went the opposite way of the parking garage. "Are we not taking the car?"
"I was hoping we could walk." Natasha smiled softly, their linked hands swinging back and forth. "It's only two blocks and the weather is nice."
But that turned out to be a big mistake. 
See, it had only been a week, so nobody on the team was used to the popularity they'd suddenly gained yet. The second Natasha opened the back door, the one that was supposed to be hidden, a horde of fans swarmed her like moths to a flame. She'd never expected or seen them there. 
Caps, shirts, signs, flags, drawings, everything was covered with her logo, with her face, with her girlfriend's face and her teammates'. It was a sea of red, white, and blue, like a bad Fourth of July parade. It was the weirdest, most pathetic thing she'd ever seen.
Her fight or flight response immediately kicked in, the fans' loud voices making her heart pound in her chest. Quickly, she tried to back Katya up, into the building, but it was too late.
"Ms. Romanoff!"
"Katya!"
"Sign my t-shirt!"
"Can we take a picture?"
Natasha squared her shoulders, standing tall. "Yeah, so that was a mistake!" She yelled over the noise, looking over her shoulder at her girlfriend, shielding her from grabby hands or cellphones.
This wasn't their scene. This was Tony's thing. It was loud, and overwhelming, and caused a tightness in her chest. 
"Let's take the car!" Katya yelled back, her grip on Natasha's hand tightening. They both felt bad leaving these fans hanging, but they had a restaurant reservation to get to.
With difficulty, they managed to go back inside and shut the door, cutting off the noise. 
They stood perplexed, staring at each other like they weren't sure that really just happened. Until they burst out laughing. At this situation, at the weirdness their lives had become. Natasha still wasn't sure she liked it, but at least they were going through it together.
"Well, that was something," Katya said, fixing her hair up to compose herself.
"If they're still standing in the street when we drive out, I'm running them over." Natasha joked.
"Nat!" Katya gasped, letting out another laugh. "You do that to the haters, not to our fans!"
Natasha smirked. "I love how you encourage me."
"I'm a supportive girlfriend." Katya shrugged.
They ended up in the restaurant eventually. Even though the server could barely get his words out because he was so starstruck, and the whole restaurant was subtly staring at them until the main course arrived, dinner was nice, like old times. And Natasha clung onto every bit of normalcy she could find, enjoying these quiet moments now more than ever. 
As chaotic as the start of this date was, so peaceful was the end of it. They got home pretty late, getting off on their own floor to avoid Tony or Clint ruining their moods, kicking off their heels for some sweet relief. Natasha poured Katya a drink to end the evening, finding her in front of the huge floor to ceiling windows their living room had. She loved watching the city at night, all the lights.
"Life's fucking crazy at the moment," Katya mumbled absentmindedly as she rested her head on Natasha's shoulder, taking a sip of her drink.
Natasha gently caressed her back, tracing the shape of her spine. The muscles underneath her hand were tenser than usual. She wasn't the only one struggling with all this change. "Good crazy or bad crazy?"
Katya pursed her lips in thought. "I haven't decided yet, but I have a good feeling about this group. Everything happens for a reason."
"You know I don't believe in that," Natasha teased gently.
"You'll see, baby. You'll see," Katya smiled knowingly, downing her drink in one go. She stepped away to put her glass down, planting her hands in her sides. "Now, I believe you were hungry."
Natasha frowned. They had just eaten a five course meal. "Hu—" A sly smile pulled on Katya's lips, making her stop short. "Oh." The scene in the elevator.
Katya's smile widened mischievously as she stepped closer and teasingly toyed with Natasha's necklace, her fingertips brushing over her collarbones. "Maybe if you pull my dress off right here, the fans downstairs can get a glimpse," she spoke innocently, but her actions were far from.
Her motivations were so obvious—rile Natasha up—yet Natasha rarely found herself care enough or strong enough to resist. Why would she be stubborn and drag this out if she could have Katya in her bed sooner?
She yanked Katya closer and whispered hotly in her ear. "Don't tempt me."
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fallinforerling · 1 year
Text
LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 3 - jb
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ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist
ೃ⁀➷ masterlist
ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist
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The “sleepover” as you called it earlier, turned into a mess of insults directed at Jude, lots of crying and hushing, Nikki yelling that she should have kicked his ass when she had the opportunity, and, finally, you switching between laughing and crying.
It was so surreal and stupid; the whole situation was just bizarre. Against your own judgment, you begged Nikki for more details about what she saw at the club as soon as she arrived. Turns out she spotted Jude right away and thought nothing when she didn't saw you with him; maybe you were in the bathroom. But as soon as she saw him flirting with some girl for a couple of minutes, she knew you weren't anywhere around and he was definitely planning on cheating. She just waited a bit more until he did something, so you could have proof.
Not like it mattered anymore. You two weren't together and today confirmed what you feared the most: he was over you from day one. What a joke.
“Our relationship was absolute bullshit to him, wasn't it?” You said after your cries calmed down, feeling something similar to anger starting to build up inside you. “That's why I never got to meet half of his friends. Why bothering? Almost a year! Did I waste ten months of my life on a douchebag?”
You didn't got a response. Nikki and Mia were just listening, letting you get off your chest everything you were keeping for yourself the past week. You were angry, so so angry at him... But you still thought about him with such love. It was so stupid from you to do so.
“I want to hate him...” You whispered after a while, sighing when some tears fell from your eyelashes. “I think I'll hate him eventually, right?”
“Or even better: you'll stop caring about him,” Mia replied, rubbing your shoulder softly. “That's the best thing that will happen to you. Stop caring about him or what he does. I know it's going to be kinda difficult due to him being a famous person, but… Meh, if Selena Gómez did it, I'm sure you're able to do so.”
The three of you laughed at the last part.
“If I have you two by my side, I'm sure I can do it.” You grabbed your phone from the carpet, taking a deep breath. “I'll delete his number and block his Instagram. I don't want to drunk text him someday and embarrass myself beyond repair.”
“That's the mentality, babes. You do that and I'll prepare us something to drink.” Nikki cheared, walking towards the kitchen. Her shiny black dress kept sending sparks of light all over the room everytime she moved.
“Is she still drunk?” You asked, rubbing your eyes. You were tired of being sad.
“Oh, yeah. She is totally wasted.” Mia stood up, grabbing your hand with a smile. “Let's get wasted too or this will be too boring for her.”
You laughed a bit, feeling thankful for your friends and their support.
“Good idea.”
What happened the rest of the night? Neither of you remembered. But you were fine with it because at least you got to forget all about Jude for once.
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Something was making a lot of noise, and your head wasn't appreciating any of it.
“What the fuck is that?!” Nikki shouted right above your left ear, making you cringe away from her voice. “Tell it to stop. My fucking head is killing me.”
“Only yours?” Mia whispered from your right, sounding like a dead person. “I think it's your doorbell, honey.”
“Is it?” You asked, confused and, you suspected, still a bit drunk. The three of you stayed quiet until the deathly sound started again, confirming that it was your doorbell. “Oh yeah, it is my doorbell.”
“Go ahead, then. I'll love life a bit more if my ears can stop bleading from that bloody sound.” Mia's voice was so raspy it scared you.
“Yes, sir.” Better to obey than die from her hangover mood.
You shuffled around the bed until you found a clear space where you could get off of it. As you rise to your feet, it was clear you were still drunk. Fucking hell. Step by step, you made it to the door, where whoever it was behind it hadn't stopped ringing. It better be good.
“Yes?” You said between grinning teeth, facing a middle age guy with the nastiest face on earth. Of course. “How can I help you?”
“I have a package for you, miss.” He said after a few seconds, taking a look at you that, it seemed, wasn't pleasing, because his face kept a horrible expression the whole time. “Sign right there and I'll be out of your hallway as fast as I can.”
Huh. At least he was sincere.
“Sure…” In the middle of sighing, you realized you haven't ordered anything in a long time. “Do you know where this come from?”
“Miss, I don't get paid enough. Good morning.” Those were his last words before giving you a medium package and take off down the hallway.
“Asshole...” You whispered. As you closed the door, you studied the package. It was so normal-looking. Soft, even.
You were curious, but the hangover was stronger than anything else. The fog of sleep was off your brain, letting you check the time without feeling dizzy. Eight in the fucking morning. God, that deliverer was indeed a freaking jerk.
Leaving the package behind, you ran to the kitchen, feeling the sudden need to drink as much water as possible. When you were at your third glass, Nikki's and Mia's steps were evident behind you.
“Having a good morning, ladies?” You asked after a moment, enjoying that you weren't the only one suffering and looking like a hot mess.
“Of course. Your doorbell wake us up and now I'm in a state between wanting to eat your whole fridge and vomit all over this carpet.” Mia's words were flat-toned, but neither Nikki nor you could help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah, laugh.”
While she proceeded to scan the kitchen, Nikki eyed the package with curiosity. Then she looked at you, silently asking what was that.
“I don't have the slightest idea. The asshole that delivered it didn't tell me who sent that. I guess we'll have to open it.” You paused for a moment, worrying about one possibility. “I hope that's not my stuff from Judeʼs place.”
“Iugh.” Was all that came from both of your friends. You gave them half a smile before reaching for it again, grabbing scissors from one of the drawers.
“Let's find out.” With patience, you opened it with a clean cut, grabbing something similar to clothing from inside of it. “Oh my god...”
“Ah! Is this hell on Earth? Why is that devil boy chasing us around?” Nikki shouted.
Staring back at you, a blue jersey with “Bellingham” written in big white letters at the back greeted you. Good, not even 24 hours, and you were, once again, being reminded of your ex. Then it hit you. It wasn't Judeʼs jersey.
“Oh no...” You whispered, taking the shirt in both hands so you could see the number. 27. “It's not Judeʼs.”
“What do you mean by that? It says Bellingham.” Mia said, peaking inside the package to find a scarf and beanie. “What's this? Some sick joke?”
“No... It's... Oh God. It's Judeʼs little brother, Jobe. He doesn't know we broke up, he wants me to attend his match next month. I completely forgot that he even promised to send me a jersey with his number and some goods from the club.” Mia passed you the scarf, which read “BIRMINGHAM FC” in white. “How do I tell him? He got out of the way to send me all of this.”
“Poor kid,” Mia said, looking at the jersey with attentive eyes. “Wait… How old is this little brother?”
“Uh… Seventeen, why?” Nikki looked instantly disappointed by it. “Gross! That's illegal, Nikk!”
“I know! I thought he was like a year younger... You know, revenge fuck and all that.”
“I'll ignore you even suggested that shit.” You said with a laugh, gathering your new goods. “Hell, I think I'll have to break the news myself. Seems like Mr. Dickhead isn't brave enough to tell his brother.”
“Doesn't matter, maybe you can still attend and make him super uncomfortable.” Mia said, laughing at her own idea. “I bet he'll be pissed off by that.”
You didn't respond, but that was a good suggestion... If you were the revenge type of gal, which you weren't... Right?
“I'll text him.” You said instead, heading to the room so you could get your phone.
“Check the photos!” Nikki said before going into the bathroom. “And hand me something to wear!”
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You wished you could be a coward and just send a text to Jobe telling him the whole truth, but he was your friend and deserved better than that.
The morning (and hangover) went away faster than you expected, and since that little “Can we meet up today?” conversation the two of you had, Nikki and Mia were long gone. Now you were getting ready to do what you didn't want to. Face your problems.
You were meeting Jobe at a nice little park where few people went at this time of year, so the conversation was secured and private. For your own sake, at least.
When you were about to finish the very much needed makeup (yep, the dark circles were still there) your phone buzzed. You picked it, noticing various messages.
✉️ Nikki: Destroy that cunt.
✉️ Mia: Don't completely destroy him, that thing it's his brother at the end of the day.
✉️ Nikki: Meh, that's not a good reason
✉️ Will be taking it into consideration.
✉️ Jobe: Getting there in 20, okay?
✉️ Same!
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The weather was amazing if you considered the fact of being in London and in autumn. The trees looked amazing and the park, as you prevented, was almost empty. You noticed a small group of girls by a nice tree, but they were too far away to bother.
Jobe's figure was so recognizable that it didn't take you long to find him by some benches. The last time you saw him, he was a lot smaller and not that broad. Teenagers.
“Hey!” You said when you were close enough.
He turned with a smile, keeping you on the spot for a second. Yeah, he still looked a lot like Jude. You smiled back, feeling like an asshole.
“God, I thought we were never going to see each other again.” He said dramatically, pulling you into a bear hug. “What's up? It's been months.”
“I know.” You smiled again, wanting to see anything but his face. “You're taller!” Pointing the obvious was better than going straight into the subject. At least while you guys were still greeting each other.
“Hell yes I am. 6'2. I'm officially taller than your hobbit of a boyfriend. Also, why didn't you come to last night's dinner? Jude told us you couldn't make it because you were sick but in my opinion… You look far from sick.”
You smiled along because you couldn't believe Jude made up some lie instead of telling his family the truth.
“About that...” You said, assuming that ripping the band-aid off was the best way of approach, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. “I need to tell you something... Can we sit?”
He seemed to read the sudden change of atmosphere because he agreed.
“Sure, what's up? You seem worried.”
You both sat on the nearest bench, giving you the time to breathe deeply and wander your eyes around the park before looking at Jobe again. The space was almost abandoned, except for the small group of girls. They were all giggling and pushing each other while holding their phones. You wishes you were that careless again.
“Your brother and I broke up.” You said suddenly, feeling great once the words came out of your mouth. “Well, he broke up with me.” You laughed a bit, not knowing why.
“He did what?!” You didn't expect Jobe's sudden scream, making you jump on the spot.
“God! Jobe, don't scream like that!” You pushed him without actual force.
“Maybe I heard you wrong… Jude did what?” You stayed silent, looking at his angry expression with a half smile. “That cunt… Why did he lie to us, then? When did this happen?”
“A week ago when I was visiting him.” You shrugged, feeling a bit dumb for venting to him. “We were just arriving home- I mean, his place, and just as I took a sit on the couch he said that we should break up. I got up immediately, then ask what did he say. He repeated it and proceeded to tell me his reasons. I kinda acted by impulse and got out of there within an hour. He offered to let me stay with him, pay for my hotel, or even pay back a ticket. It sounded like…” You paused again, not wanting the keep showing weakness toward the subject.
“Charity?” Jobe suggested.
“Yeah, like pity mixed with charity. So I rejected that and took a taxi to the airport… Well, that's what happened. So, I'm sorry for not telling you before. I thought he was the one for that job.” You held his arm lightly, smiling a bit. “Now that you know that… I don't think I'll be able to attend your match, honey.”
His face fell a bit, but recomposed instantly. His eyes were determined when he took the hand you put on his arm, holding it on his.
“You are coming.” He said, smiling when you looked at him with doubt. “I don't care that Jude broke up with you. You're my friend and I want you there. Also, I spend money on that package, I won't let it go to waste.”
“You're such an asshole!” You barked, laughing. “But okay, as you wish, my lord. But don't expect me to acknowledge him.”
“I wasn't expecting you to do so... Also, he doesn't deserve it either. You're coming, and if he feels uncomfortable, then he'll have to deal with it.” This time, he was the one to make a pause before laughing. “God, Mom is going to be so mad at him... You are her favorite daughter-in-law.”
“I'll miss her too.”
“You can still visit while he's at Dortmund. Mom and Dad will always greet with open arms.” He got up, giving you an smile. “Come on, let's get something to eat. I need to tell you a few things.”
“Oh! Is that about the girl you liked?”
“Shhhh! Don't say it out loud. God, you're lucky that you're still family.”
You laughed at his blushing cheeks, feeling grateful that at least you didn't lost your little brother.
Jobe was right. Life was more than Jude, even when he kept popping up on your mind and aspects of your life.
It was going to be okay. You could do this.
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Hanging On The Telephone
Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Word Count:1,401
Summary:Steve just wanted to hear your voice, but as is the way with him, one thing leads to another 
Warnings:18+, smut, Phone Sex, Pet Names (Baby, Sweetheart, Sweets, Princess), Dirty Talk, Mutual Masturbation
Author's Note:Look, I don’t even know anymore, I think my horny brain ghostworte this whole fic
MASTERLIST
Steve wasn’t used to not being close to you. 
As much as Robin liked to joke at his expense that he was like a lost puppy without you, and as much as he hated to admit it, she was absolutely right. 
Whilst he could go over to your house, and climb up to your bedroom window right now, and then sneak into your room to spend the night with you, he had a different idea.
His eyes look over to where his phone lay on his bedside dresser and suddenly a plan starts formulating in his head.
He knew your parents would be away for the night, he remembers you telling him about them going to some fancy office party for one reason or another. The details of why were unimportant to him, all he knew is that you were alone in your room.
He goes over to pick up his phone, and begins to dial your number, hoping with each ring that you would pick up. Laying back on his bed he waits to hear your voice.
“Hello?” There she was, there was his sweet girl.
“Hey, baby.” Steve sighs out. 
“Stevie!!” He hears you giggling on the other end of the line, he couldn’t see you but he could just see your gorgeous smile curling at your lips in his mind. 
“So what’re you up to?” He asks.
“Oh, nothing special, just about to watch some tv, you?” you turn the question to him.
“I’m just laying in bed.” he says, but his voice sounds distant, you swear you can hear quiet shuffling noises on his end of the line.
“Stevie?” you ask, sounding unsure. “Are you okay over there?”
“I’m just a bit…uncomfortable..” he admits, trailing off, hoping that you would follow his meaning. 
Oh. Oh.
“Well then, do you want to do something about it?” you offer.
“What are you proposing, sweetheart?” he’s hoping, by the way his dick is beginning to tent in his sweatpants, that you're thinking the same thing that he is.
“Well maybe I could help you out? Offer a few words of encouragement.” your voice drops to what you hope is a sultry tone.
“Fuck..Sweetheart..tell me what to do please..” He whines out, surprised at the neediness in his voice already.
“What are you wearing, Stevie?” You ask, what was the right way to start something like this? You hope this came across as sexy rather than one of those lame sex chatlines.
“I’m just wearing a t-shirt, and sweatpants, nothing special, darling.” Steve admits honestly.
“Can you get undressed for me please..” you ask him.
“You got it, babe!” that was your Stevie, even in moments like this he still found time to be goofy and make you laugh. That’s what you loved about him. 
You listen to the brief moment of the sounds of clothes rustling, as he hurries to get naked.
“Okay and I’m naked now, what did you have in mind next, baby?” you hear his teasing smirk through his voice.
“Okay..um..a-are you..hard?” you cringe at your own awful attempts to sound sexy.
“A little, do you want me to stroke it?” he offers, helping you out.
“Yeah…go ahead. Touch yourself for me.”
Steve does as he’s told, you vaguely hear the sound of him spitting into his palm, followed by a deep rumbling groan from his end of the line.
You decide to speak up, wanting to hear his voice talk to you as he takes himself in his hand.
“What are you doing, Stevie? Tell me what you're thinking about?” You ask, starting to feel bolder the more that the phone call goes on.
“I’ve got my hand wrapped around my dick..and I-i’m working my fist up and down it, but like slowly..I kinda wanna go slow and just..feel it, y’know.” He huffs out little breaths as he tells you what he’s doing. “Thinking about you..I always do..thinking about that time where I took you on that date to the drive-in cinema, you started getting real handsy with me babe, remember?” 
His confession immediately takes you back to being in his car, with you leaning in close to him and kissing up his neck making sure to place small kisses on every little freckle and mole. Your hands wander over his jeans, rubbing over the growing bulge under the denim. That date had ended with you sitting in Steve’s lap, slowly rolling your hips over him whilst you made out, the movie playing going completely ignored as you both tried to stifle any noises and go undetected by the other movie-goers.
“Mmm..yeah I remember that..that was a fun night.” you sigh as your body melts into your bed, amongst the softness of the pillows. 
Your own hands begin to trail down your body slipping underneath the waistband of your panties, your fingers easily run over your folds, finding the wetness gathering there. A quiet whining moan slips from your lips, that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend.
“You touching yourself there, sweetheart?” Steve asks teasingly.
“Mhmm yes…” you blush at his question.
“Can you do something for me, sweets?” 
“What is it, Stevie?” your own fingers halting their movements for a moment whilst you listen to his request.
“Put your fingers in your mouth..suck on ‘em, get ‘em all nice and wet for me.” 
You do as he says, making a point to do so just loud enough so that he could hear you.
“Fuck..Sweetheart..” his moans are rising in his throat as he thrusts up into his closed fist.
“What do you want me to do now?” you mumble out as you pull your spit-slick fingers from your lips.
“Take your panties off, then slide your fingers inside yourself for me..please” He hadn’t meant for that to sound as needy as it did, but he desperately wanted to hear you pleasure yourself as much as he wanted to get off himself.
You slowly work one of your fingers inside yourself, whining at the feeling. 
“How many fingers are you using, princess?” 
“O-one..I’m so wet..please, Steve..” At this point you aren’t even sure what you’re begging for.
“You’re gonna have to use more than one finger if you wanna..fuck.. wanna feel as full as you do when you’re with me, sweets” he utters out breathlessly, the slick sounds of his large hand working over himself ring down the phone line. 
You slide another finger inside yourself, and moan at the stretch. Pressing on that sweet spot deep inside yourself with every pass of your fingers.
“Feel so full, Steve..”
“I know, baby..I know..Bet it feels real good though, yeah?” 
“Yeah..Feels so good..” you whimpered out, as you lean the phone between your shoulder to free up your other hand to rub quick circles around your clit.
Listening to your heaving breaths, and cries of pleasure Steve can only imagine how beautiful you must look, with your eyes screwed shut and your tits rising and falling with each breath as your fingers work to bring you closer to your high.
A few more passes of your fingers rubbing over your sensitive clit is what pushed you over the edge, coming with a long whining moan and your back arching off your bed’s mattress.
That's what does it for him. His closed fist worked to deliver quick short strokes over his sensitive head, spreading the bead of dripping pre-cum to help his fist glide over himself. He grunts out as he cums, his release splattering his lower stomach in a sticky mess, and dripping down his closed fingers, his mind going hazy from his post-orgasm high.
He barely hears your raspy voice on the other end, checking back in with him,  
“Are you still there, Stevie?” you laugh breathlessly. 
“Y-yeah..I’m still here, sweetheart..Just..wow..” he laughs to himself “I came so hard, sweets.” he smiles, his breath still trying to catch up with him.
You huff out a gentle chuckle "Me too, Steve"
"You're not too tired, are you, sweets?" He asks hopefully.
"Why?" You drag out, teasingly.
"Stay right where you are, baby. I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes, I wanna see you tonight."
You relax back into your bed with a grin, holding the phone to your ear.
"I'll be waiting"
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dear-wormwoods · 1 year
Text
Okay, thoughts on The Worldwide Privacy Tour:
This was a solid episode for Kyle’s character development and I really found myself being reminded of You’re Getting Old/Assburgers in the sense that Kyle, rather than Stan this time, is alienating his friends by being a downer. He’s not moping or feeling depressed, but he IS constantly bitching about stuff the other kids don’t want to hear about, and then when they tell him they don’t want to hear it, he promises to stop but immediately starts up again. I do feel bad for him, though, because Kyle has a long history of trying really hard to reach people only to have no one listen to him, especially in recent seasons when other characters have actively shut his speeches down. But at the same time, I know what it’s like to be that annoying friend and also to have that annoying friend… sometimes you just have to know when to shut up about stuff!
But whereas Stan just kind of accepts that people don’t want to be around him anymore and isolates even further, Kyle desperately tries to change himself to fit in again. This is very consistent with Kyle’s character, because historically he often goes out of his way to fit in and really lets other people’s perception of him impact his own sense of self. Butters, I think, stumbles upon this aspect of Kyle’s character accidentally and that’s why it was so easy for him to give the ol’ ‘Vic Chaos sales pitch’ about rebranding. I don’t think Butters intentionally manipulated Kyle, at least not with nefarious intentions, but I think he did see Kyle as an easy target, which he absolutely was.
The fact that Kyle so desperately wants people to like him but not really knowing how to go about it is so relatable. I loved his explanation of wanting his friends to think he’s more thick-skinned and “stronger mentally than I probably am”. He knows himself but he perceives his sensitivity as a flaw because he gets hung up on stuff and takes things too personally. His black t-shirt transformation was so cringey but that’s to be expected - like I said last week, Kyle has a large capacity for cringe! That locker leaning pose though…
Absolutely loved his final speech! “Look, we all have our faults - God knows I do” was a particularly good bit of voice acting. And the ending was super sweet, first with Kyle catching himself still caring what others think and then accepting Ike for who he is, and then with the other boys basically telling Kyle to go touch some grass in the nicest way possible. They were finally able to understand that there was something actually going on with Kyle that they could help with, but the best part is that Kyle had already solved his own problem! Sure he needs his friends too, but he was able to come to terms with himself on his own, which was great to see.
Stray observations:
Kyle saying “I’m not that outdoorsy” instead of denying being sensitive or a victim.
He WOULD call the police to file a noise complaint at 10:30pm.
“I’m carefree and unflappable!” says the LEAST carefree and unflappable person ever. But that’s the point.
Bebe continues to be my favorite girl. Butters has honestly had it coming for a while now.
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kiwibeanv · 2 months
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Tormenting Chuuya with Situations #1
Summary: Inspired by the Cyberpunk Edgerunners scene in EP 3 at the party thing, Chuuya finds you.
Some background: Working on a fic with a mercenary reader who gets wound up in the PM... unwillingly. Just imagine having a huge disdain for the PM for now.
Notes: *Originally wrote with fem pronouns but it's gender neutral in this. *Drabble with some errors. *Third person. *Chuuya x reader. *Dazai x reader. *Little suggestive at ending 2. *Collaboration with Monocle
Story
At a little plaza in some random corner of the city, there was a small party going on. Drinks were shared and loud music blasted in the air. A party of outlaws. Gangsters, mercenaries, thieves, and all those unruly folks gathered here. The Guild is defeated and Yokohama was saved.
(Name) grabbed a drink and sat on top of the hood of their sports car. They gazed at the party. Dancers with the "DJ", some people showing off whatever assets or tricks, and the friend groups that stuck together chilling in their seats.
Chuuya came to the party in search of (Name). He cringed at the music blasting into his ears. To him, this party was too wild for his tastes. No formalities. Just unorganized celebration.
He spots (Name) sitting atop of their sports car. They were drinking alone until some guy approached her. He narrowed his eyes and recognized him... those bandages on his arms and neck... Dazai... He grits his teeth and lets out an annoyed sigh. Just as he wanted to step in, his phone rang. He stepped away to a quieter corner. The music was still loud but it was just enough for him to listen on the other end. Plus he still has (Name) and Dazai in his peripheral vision.
"Hello?" He answered as he leaned against the wall.
"Chuuya, where did you go?" Asked a female's voice. It was soothing and definitely Koyo's.
Chuuya stuck his other hand in his pocket. "Looking for (Name). They went off again," he sighed.
"Again? A leash doesn't stop them huh?" She asked.
"Nope but I got eyes on them," Chuuya replied as he glanced over to them.
Koyo hummed. "Off partying with those street dogs. I can hear the music."
"Yeah." Chuuya's eyes darkened when he saw them laughing.
"Well come back quickly. We have to celebrate our own victory," She says. "In a much more pleasant manner."
"Yeah, I'll get back as soon as I get (Name)," He nods.
"Then I'll see you soon."
"See you, big sis."
Chuuya hung up and closed his phone. He looked back to the car, only to see Dazai and (Name) missing. He clutched his phone tightly as his eyebrows furrowed. He has to get (Name) back before Dazai does anything funny. They shouldn't have gone off, let alone with his hated rival. It made him seethe at the thought of (Name) with Dazai.
And they couldn't have gone far. They were just in his sight earlier. Chuuya came to the car and collected himself along the way.
Ending 1
He could see them in the backseats still chatting. He scowled and knocked on the window which brought their attention. Dazai put his hand on (Name)'s shoulder and said something he couldn't hear. Then he stepped out of the car with a smug look.
"Well, well, who do we have here?" He said. "You interrupted our moment there."
"Like I care!" Chuuya raised his voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Having a chat~" Dazai replied nonchalantly. "And what are you doing here? This is no place for a fancy pants like you."
"I do what I please. I'm just here to take back someone," Chuuya grits his teeth.
"Well if it's them in the car, there's no way I'm letting you steal them," Dazai's grin widened.
"Don't get in my way," Chuuya growled.
Dazai was going to retort but (Name) came out of the car.
"Guys chill. Take your cat fight elsewhere," (Name) said with a sigh. They didn't want anymore trouble now that their supervisor was here. Angry like usual.
"(Name)!" Chuuya spoke up first.
"Ugh, you're here to take me back again," (Name) groaned and then turned to Dazai. "Sorry about that. But I have to get snatched away here."
Dazai raised his brow. "Huh... didn't think you'd be with the Port Mafia."
"Unfortunately," (Name) crossed their arms.
Chuuya and Dazai glared at each other for a moment, until Dazai spoke up.
"My condolences," Dazai puts his hand on his chest. "Call me if you ever want a double suicide with me," he says as he turned away to leave.
"As if," (Name) rolled their eyes.
Chuuya clenched his fists and lunged forward, but he was stopped by (Name).
"Cool it, Chuus. I don't want another issue on my plate," they warned.
Chuuya scoffed. "Fine, but we need to head back to base."
(Name) rolled their eyes with a groan. "Great..."
Ending 2
He couldn't see them in the car, nor around the area. His heart sped up and he began to search frantically. Chuuya couldn't find them within the party's premises.
He started to walk away. The music faded into the distance the more he got into the city. Chuuya was going to let (Name) get into their own sort of trouble. He had enough of their insubordination and was going to leave that to Mori or karma.
But then he heard soft moaning coming from a secluded alley. At first he was annoyed that some random couple is probably making out or going down and dirty. He let out a sigh to just glance, only to be struck with shock.
There they were, Dazai pinning them to the wall and making out. Rage boiled in him. He was so tempted to use his ability to stop this. Throw trash at them, use a dumpster to hit Dazai, or even drag (Name) away. But again... what's the point? It will only get them to seek each other out more. Plus he already decided to leave (Name) up to fate.
He tipped his hat lower to cover his eyes and never looked back.
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cottondo · 1 year
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ONCELER X READER
CHAPTER 2. | butterfly milk
Your body was laying halfway off of the bed. It wasn't the most comfortable, or natural position, but it felt right at the time. You press the phone up closer to your ear with an increasing smile as you listen to your friend on the other end.
"Aww, Y/N, it's beautiful here! You'd love it. I just know it," onceler beams into the phone.
A soft giggle escapes your chest, a lightness in your cheeks as you hear his voice. "I'll have to come visit you sooner than expected then, huh?" You smirk into the phone.
It's been a few days since you've heard from him, and, no lie, you really missed his voice. It was hard to believe that it had already been a month since he's left.
Being bored was an understatement. Most of your free time was spent with Oncie. Living without him was pretty lame. Who else were you supposed to stuff your cheeks full of marshmallows with? Or sing stupid songs about birds when you both couldn't sleep at night? Nobody.
"Sure! I'm think the Lorax wouldn't mind! I've already told him about you. Well, mentioned you, really."
You glance out the window of your bedroom and notice the dusky sky. Your brows furrow slightly. "Just couldn't keep my name to yourself, could you, oncie?"
"Psh, nah. I just had to prove that I wasn't a complete loner." He laughs. "He thinks I am."
Wow. What an ass.
You roll your eyes and sit up straight. "Thanks, I'm feelin' the love." You snort back. He chuckles into the speaker, and you can hear a few things moving around in the background. He was probably cooking.
"Hey, don't be like that! You know you're still being thought about." He teases back.
"Yeah, well . . I definitely miss you around here. 'Wish you'd come back sooner." You sink into your pillows, letting out a little sigh in turn.
Things just weren't the same without your best friend. Of course, it didn't help that you liked him. Maybe a bit more than you should have liked him, for someone who was supposed to be just your best friend.
It was kinda hard not to like him, though.
Onceler was fun, though sometimes a bit artless, but he knew how to make you laugh, and always put you in a good mood. Most nights, at his house, the two of you would sit by the fire in the backyard and he'd play his guitar.
Nobody really understood him like you did. And that's why he stuck around with you for so long, you were sure of it.
"I know, I'm sorry. But hey! Just think about all the money I'll be making once it really takes off!" He's grinning, you just know it.
You bite back the worry in your voice.
"I'm excited for you,"
It's not like it wasn't a good invention- - it was just . . different. His family shunned him for it, people laughed at him, and nobody really understood the purpose of a Thneed. It didn't really need to be brought into the world, you supposed.
"Thanks. It's gonna be great. But hey, listen. You really should come visit when you're free! It gets kinda lonely over here sometimes." Onceler says, "I mean, the Barbarloots are pretty good company, but they've been over staying their welcome." You can hear him bite back some annoyance in his tone.
You smile, nodding as if he could see you.
"Hell yeah, I'd be down." What was that feeling in your chest? Was that your heart pounding?
"I'll start packing tonight." You laugh.
  A few pots and pans clang around on the other end of the phone, and you cringe a little.
"Wait— really? I'm not actually lonely, you don't have t—"
"Uh, duh, yea I do. I'll head out tomorrow, so you're not an outcast anymore." You sneer. There's a playful smirk on your face, but it's not like he could see it. "I know you miss my company." It was a little hard to hold back the flirting sometimes. Naturally, you were just good at it.
"That's a little harsh. I've been fine on my own. It's nice!" Onceler retorts. "It's just me and the Thneed. Can't get any better than that."
You know damn well that was a lie. Man's been alone for too long, most of his life, and there was no way he could avoid that lie any longer.
You smile, teasing him back. "Uhuh, yeah. You're loosin' it, twiggy."
"Alllright." He puts an end to that teasing, and huffs into the phone. "Just call when you're leaving. I'll give you the address."
You kick your feet up, body hanging halfway off of the bed again. "Okay."
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
time skip
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
  When you got in the car to start your drive, you didn't expect it to have so many views. It was a long drive, a freaking troop, to get there.
You've heard stories as a kid about the Truffula Forest. It was known around most places, as the prettiest forest in the world. They say the scent of a tuft is sweeter than butterfly milk.
You can remember when you'd beg your mom to stay up and tell you all of the stories and fairytales of the one called the Lorax. A guardian of the forest, saver of trees. Endless tales of Swamee swans, and singing fish. Their harmonies would echo throughout the hills, and they'd swim through the crystal clear lakes.
So when you remembered the stories, you imagined it being as beautiful as they all said it would be. But seeing it for yourself? You couldn't even explain how amazing the views were. The hills went on for miles. There was a sweetness in the air, and it was light and floral.
Creeks and rivers streamed through bright grass, and in them, the notorious fish, and above high, in the Truffula trees, were the Swamee swans.
Some Barbarloots laze around, while others, climb trees and avoid your vehicle. They peer down at you with curiosity, noses sniffing around your new scent.
You jumped out of the car with wide eyes, pep in your step.
This was it. The place of your dreams- - the spot you'd been longing for to see, hear, and smell.
This was definitely the place.
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darkuselesssomebody · 7 months
Text
𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟘 - dark!jonathan levy x fem!reader
complete masterlist | kinktober 2023 masterlist
kink || recording/blackmail
taglist || @silversprings-mp3
fandom || scenes from a marriage
a/n || sorry. i don't have much else to say <3.
➵ warnings for specific content before the divider
➵ i never watched scenes from a marriage but jonathan levy is so fit so if he's ooc excuse me
➵ not proofread
➵ comment/message if you'd like to be added to the taglist
warnings || smut/dark (dddne)
➵ professor/student dynamic
➵ unprotected sex
➵ spanking
➵ blackmail, duh
➵ degradation (use of whore)
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she knew it was stupid, and wrong.
she knew she had worked her ass off fr a full ride scholarship to this university, and she can't do anything to jeopardize that.
so of course, she had agreed to the lust-filled eyes of her professor - his wandering hands, his dirty mouth.
she'd let him grope her body, tear away at her leggings. she'd let him smack her ass, bite her neck. she'd let him cum in her mouth, and then inside her.
but she hadn't let him do that one thing.
she's in his office again today, and she was trying to cut the relationship off.
"we can't... do this anymore." she'd tried to argue, "you're just divorced, and you're my professor! you know how much trouble we could get into?"
he's not looking at her, hand over his mouth, a stern, contemplative look on his face. she bites her lip, as he spends more and more time not responding.
"can you say something?" she mumbles, and his chair finally turns to fully face her. he leans forward over his desk, hands clasped by his chin.
"no." his voice is cold, and she furrows a brow.
"what do you mean?"
"no. this-" he gestures between the two of them, "is not stopping." she blinks in confusion.
"you can't just-"
"i can, and i will." his voice isn't changing in inflection. it's not angry, it's commanding.
he needed the control. his whole life was spiraling out of control, and he wasn't letting his favorite student slip out of his fingers as well. a chill runs down her spine.
"i'm gonna... leave." she whispers, slowly getting up, and his eyes trail over her figure.
"sit back down." he orders, and she hesitates.
"n-no, i should-" he finally sighs solemnly.
"i didn't want to do this." he murmurs calmly, hand going to his phone to look through his gallery. he puts on a video, and doesn't even have to show her the contents - all she has to do is listen.
her moans are high-pitched and more needy than she remembers, and his own are gruff and controlled. he's calling her a whore - his whore - and she's preening at the name. her face flushes, cheeks warming as she listens.
she hadn't let him record the experience.
"what the fuck?" she whimpers, and he turns it off.
"insurance." he finally gets up, standing in front of her. she doesn't look at him, feeling her pulse quicken - not in excitement, or intrigue - but fear, and shock. he gently places his finger to her hot skin, and her breath hitches, "why would we stop when you need me so goddamn much?" he whispers, as though he was trying to be understanding. she shakes her head, feeling oncoming tears.
"no, i don't-"
"don't lie..." he says, so softly. he plays the role of the kind, patient professor perfectly, until he has her on her knees, "will you be my good girl now?" he murmurs, nosing at her earlobe, inhaling her scent deeply.
she shudders, cringing in disgust, but paradoxically feeling her core pulse in need. his grip tightens just slightly on her chin: he wants an answer.
"yes." she mumbles quietly, and he sighs in satisfaction. he presses a sweet kiss to her cheek, before grabbing at her scalp and pushing her to her knees, his other hand going down to undo his slacks. she gulps, staring up at his imposing figure, as he taps his now exposed cock on her lips.
"open up, sweetheart." he orders, and she slowly sticks her tongue out. she's upset she can't even fight back. what could she do? the sounds of her moans and his degradation in the video echo in her mind, as he fucks into her mouth, slowly, with his teeth gritted, "oh, yeah - fuck, yeah..." he moans, moving his hips a little faster. his hand has her hair bunched into a ponytail, moving her like a doll for him. because that's all she was. his whore.
he's getting closer, and he wants to cum inside her again. he pulls out of her mouth, helping her to her feet, before bending her over the desk and kicking open her legs. his hand runs over her ass, pulling down her tight jeans, and squeezing harshly at the flesh of her thighs. one hand pumps his cock, and the other explores her folds, flicking over her clit and making her jolt and whimper. she's trying not to moan - how cute, he thinks.
he delivers a small slap to her ass.
"moan, whore." he murmurs casually, as though he's asking about the weather. she bites her lip to moan, and he sighs, annoyance finally starting to show. he pulls her up such that her back was flush by his chest, holding her up by putting an arm around her tits. he wants to lave his tongue over her neck, leaving marks behind with his teeth. he wants her to struggle to explain them to her friends.
he adjusts to slip his cock inside her, and she finally moans loudly - high-pitched, shocked and pleasure-filled - and he smiles softly, letting her adjust.
he wasn't a monster, after all.
he pulls out till just his tip is still inside after letting her get used to him, before slamming back inside, wanting to hear her scream. she knows she can't - they're in his office for god's sake! - and she hand to bite down on her hand to muffle her noises. seeing it enrages him; he pulls her hand out of her mouth. he moves harder - thrusting harder inside her.
he needs her to moan, he needs to hear how good he makes her feel.
it works, and a flurry of moans and whimpers tumble out of her lips. she's gonna cum, and she's trying to stave it of, but it's not working.
"st-stop, i'm gonna-"
"cum?" he finishes her sentence for her, and bites her neck, grinning against her skin, "do it, whore." he murmurs, but he uses the word lovingly, this time. "cum for me."
she does it. for him, or not, it doesn't matter. she cums so hard, she's worried she'll pass out, and he groans into her hair as her walls clench around him, finishing not so long after, as well. he pulls out, admiring the view. she looks so pretty like this - this is what she should always look like.
he looks over at his phone, and she follows his gaze. it's recording - and she's shocked she'd not noticed it again. he pauses the recording, putting it in his pocket, and she looks at him in a strange mix of pleading, confusion, and horror. she swallows softly.
"why did you need another one?" she finally whispers, and he grins, eyes crinkling - a kind smile on his face.
"the last one was insurance. this one's entertainment."
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cherubkeery · 1 year
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Boys a Liar
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I just thought the song title was fun. It doesn’t really relate lol
Dating Steve Harrington was not a easy feat. He was a lot to deal with. Not that you minded that at all. You liked him for who he was. Liked him for the man he was becoming. He did get a bit clingy at times. But again it wasn’t something you minded. It was hard though, to get to him when he was down. But you managed.
Just the constant girl coming up to you and telling you how good he was in bed. How he’s been with every girl in Hawkins. It was starting to make you a bit insecure. Not that you would voice it out loud. You didn’t want him to know how easily it got to you. It was even worse that some girls have come up to talking about Nancy. How you could never replace her in his heart. You were a rebound, a joke. These girls knew exactly where to hit you where it hurt. So for a couple of days, you’ve been very MIA.
“Hey buttercup.” Eddie said, greeting you as he sat down next to you. You gave him a smile before handing him the popcorn you made for him and you. He was your best friend and knew everything there was to know about you. The only thing was you hadn’t told him about the whole Steve situation. You decided to keep it to yourself.
“This movie kind of sucks.” You remarked and he snickered.
“Well what should we watch? This is the only- wait why don’t we go to family video. Pick up a movie that way you can see your boyfriend and we can have something actually interesting to watch.” Your heart stopped when you heard Family Video.
Little to your knowledge, Steve had gone to Eddie about you. In Eddie’s words, the poor boy was going a little insane without you. You hadn’t returned any of his calls. Every time he went over, your sister would always tell him you weren’t home. He would try to sneak into your room. But your room was right next to your parents and they could see if anyone was getting in or out. Eddie had no idea what to tell him, you hadn’t mentioned any drift. Or reason why you weren’t talking to him.
So when he suggested to go get a new movie, he looked at you to gauge your reaction. You took a few minutes to come up with a response.
“Movies are boring anyway. Why don’t we uh- go to the uh-.” You said, cringing at yourself for not knowing what to say. “The record store! Why not there. We can listen to that album you’ve been trying to get me to listen to.”
Eddie rose an eyebrow at you, he paused the movie and turned to you.
“I know you’re not talking to Steve. He told me.”
You gaped at him, he got you there. You hadn’t anticipated Steve going to Eddie instead. You sighed and covered your face in your hands.
“It’s not his fault. It’s just that every girl he’s ever hooked up with. Keep coming up to me saying he’s going to leave you for Nancy. He’s a good fuck, etc etc.”
“See Harrington, she’s not mad at you.” You were shocked, had he been here the whole time? Did he hear everything that was said? You stared at Eddie comically.
“Traitor!” You said, tossing popcorn at him. Eddie laughed and shrugged them off of him. Steve eyes soften when he looked at you.
“Eh, you’ll forgive me eventually. Gotta go!” He said, getting up from where he sat and running out the room. Steve stood there, waiting for you to finally acknowledge him.
“Hey.” He said.
“Hi.”
He sat down next to you, this was starting to get more uncomfortable by the moment. Not because you didn’t feel comfortable around him. Just the fact that he heard you. That you should have gone to him about this. Instead of distancing yourself. But here you guys were now.
“Look, I know my reputation was going to eventually catch up to me. But I promise you, I don’t love Nancy like that anymore. If anything, I kind of love her like a sister.” You watch as he played with his fingers. He looked at you from where he sat. “And those girls, those girls are not you.”
You stared down at your own hands, you didn’t hate getting vulnerable. But you did run from him when you should have told him what was bothering you. You met his eyes once more, there was so much love in them. You stared at the constellations scattered on his face. Your boy was beautiful and he loved you. You knew that.
“I love you so much. It hurts to breathe sometimes.” You reached over to cup his face.
“I love you too, Stevie. I’m sorry I ran.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you did it.” You leaned in close to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. He smiled. Then he placed a kiss on your lips. “Now I can have you in my arms again.” He tackled you to the ground and cuddled you close. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.
You loved him and he loved you. There was nothing more better for you to ask for.
“You’re still going to kill Eddie? Aren’t you.”
“Yep.”
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Hi, sorry to ask but have you written any fanfics where Jerry is autistic? I've read your autistic!morty fic and thought that was excellent. I'm trying to find Jerry-centric fanfics where he isn't mischaracterized/demonized. (Way too many people write Jerry as transphobic which -_-ll no he isn't)
Hi, no need to apologise! I haven't written any autistic Jerry fics and I'm not sure if I know of any (if anyone else does, please leave recs on this post!). I do 100% view him as autistic though. Thank you!
Yeah honestly Jerry being portrayed as transphobic is something that bothers me as a trans guy? I headcanon him as supportive but clueless/cringe at times (he a little confused but he got the spirit).
I do have a trans Morty WIP with a scene between Morty and Jerry, although Morty is still very early on in figuring out that he might be a guy, and Jerry kind of knows something is up but assumes Morty is a lesbian rather than a trans guy and so kind of fumbles but ultimately is trying to be supportive/nice. Morty does worry about Jerry not loving him anymore if he's trans, although this is Morty's POV rather than being objective/a thing that actually happens.
I'll leave the scene below the cut in case anyone's interested. Warnings for mention of periods (and them being referred to in a gendered way), fear of transphobia from parents, accidental misgendering (and misgendering/deadnaming of Morty in the text since this is only the very start of Morty's gender questioning).
“Morti? Rick said you’re sick. Are you OK?” Jerry opens the door. Morti quickly shoves her phone under her pillow. Thankfully, her dad is as oblivious as ever as he walks over and rests a hand against her forehead.
“You don’t feel warm. Is it, uh, you know,” Jerry points down towards his own abdomen, “woman troubles?” he asks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Morti wants to die all over again. She presses her face into her pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart, i-it’s OK.” Morti feels Jerry rest a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything?”
Morti takes a few deep breaths to calm herself and then sits up.
“N-no, Dad, I’m OK.”
“OK, honey.” Jerry wraps his arms around her and Morti can’t help but wonder if he would still hug her like this if he knew what she’d spent the past couple of hours reading about. She hugs him back tightly, suddenly unable to stop thinking that she might have to make the most of the affection while it lasts.
When Jerry pulls back, his face clouds with concern and Morti realises she’s once again been crying. She’s getting really sick of that.
“Morti, honey, what’s wrong?”
Morti feels the question writhing around in her gut until it chokes its way out of her mouth. “Dad… you’d love me no matter what, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. No matter what, you’ll always be my daughter.”
The words are meant to be a comfort, but all Morti can think about is the possibility that she’s not his daughter.
“Morti? Are you gay? It’s OK if you’re gay, you know.” As always, Jerry is well-intentioned but clueless. Truthfully, Morti’s not really put much thought into her own sexual orientation, and it’s not her main concern right now. She shakes her head, and Jerry looks doubtful but leaves it. 
After a few minutes, Morti works up the courage to speak again. “Dad? Could-could you… tell me a story? Like when I was little?” she cringes as she says the words, knowing she’s far too old to be asking for something like that. To her relief, Jerry smiles.
“Sure thing, sweetie.” 
He launches into an improvised story, very similar to the ones she remembers him coming up with when she was younger. She has a memory of Summer complaining Jerry’s stories were boring, always demanding more action. However, once Summer had aged out of wanting a bedtime story and left Morti as the sole listener, Jerry had settled comfortably back into his original stories, which Morti found calming and reassuring. 
Her dad’s voice relaxes her and she rests her head against the pillow, feeling her eyelids begin to droop. Jerry’s hand rests on her hair and strokes it gently, just as he used to all those years ago. It’s enough to block out the negative thoughts for the time being, and Morti is so exhausted from the recent events that she soon drifts peacefully into sleep.
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