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#yes i talk about how insufferable i find them all the time yes i think they are incredible. this is why i live in fandom switzerland
theajaheira · 1 year
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i feel like at some point i have to write my latest bangel plot bunny just to counterbalance all the violent hatred of them??? like they’re FASCINATING. y’all just think the show doesn’t know that this is a deeply fucked up relationship, which is sorta fair bc the show can’t decide + wants to have its cake and eat it too (buffy and angel are somehow simultaneously Teenage True Love and Genuinely Fucked Up Power Dynamic) BUT “the show can’t decide” is so hugely different from “the show doesn’t know it’s fucked up and thinks it isn’t” and so sometimes i will see bangel hater takes and they will actually hurt my soul
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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✎ heaven's fury
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- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
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Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
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Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered over your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
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prael · 8 days
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Not Quite Home
Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry
Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut
words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist
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She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?
All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.
And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.
Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.
"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"
She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."
"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"
Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"
Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.
"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."
"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."
Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.
You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.
"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.
You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.
"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.
You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex. 
She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed. 
For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.
So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.
She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.
Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.
It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.
It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.
Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.
And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.
That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.
"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.
"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.
"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."
You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.
There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.
"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."
"Since you asked so nicely."
Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.
And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.
The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.
"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.
As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.
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starboye · 12 days
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starring: gambit x male reader
request: could you write about how everyone (all the xmen) think that the reader is the dom/top in the relationship even though its actually gambit and gambit gets tired of it so he makes reader moan loudly to show who's actually the dom? Kinks honestly you can do what you want but just can you add dumbification (I really just wanna be shit talked to by gambit 😭) If you want to add anything else you can!!
warnings: smut, rough sex, dumbification, cursing, ass slapping, slight cum denial, possessive, daddy kink
it wasn't your fault that everyone thought you were the dom of the relationship i guess they just thought you had kind of energy in you but every time they brought it up as a joke to remys jaw and fist would clench tighter than ever and he could feel his blood boiling.
when logan would lose to him in a training fight he'd tease remy with a "yeah what ever how 'bout you go get fucked by your little boyfriend or whatever" and remy just wanted to grab you and fuck you in front of them all,showing them how his boy actually is behind closed doors taking his dick.
you now walked into the kitchen to find everyone talking and enjoying their meals as remy cooked for them "woop woop look who it is mr y/n the gambit fucker" nightcrawler taunted teleporting to you with a cloud of smoke, as soon as remy heard this you could feel his whole energy change from happy to annoyed, i mean there was nothing you could do to stop them from thinking you were the dom.
but remy knew just the way to fix it, he stomped over to you and roughly grab your arm before dragging you to your guys shared room, logan could smell the lustful pheromones on the man as he walked past "so everyone thinks you fuck me huh well i'll show them" remy says stripping naked and pulling you into a heated kiss as he stripped you clothes off.
"remy c'mon there'es no ne-" you tried to stop him knowing the ensuing outcome of this all would be you getting fucked senseless "shut up i just need to prove those little fuckers wrong" remy roughly says pushing you onto the bed and arching your back down so your ass sticks up to him as he slapped his dick on your hole "you want me to fuck you" remy smirks "yes daddy please" you whimper at the sight of it.
"ohhh fuck" remy groans with shudders as he slides in, his spit acting as lube "mm fuck you feel so good" you say laying your face into the bed to silence your moans as he begins thrusting into you, usually he'd start off pretty slow but the need to show everyone who the dominant one is has him going at an ungodly pace into you.
"nuh uh baby let them hear those pretty moans" remy says pulling your hair to lift your head from the pillows as you moan out loudly "yeah keep going just like that" remy coos kissing your cheek to apologize for the ensuing pain before he starts going faster and faster with your moans growing and growing with each plap.
at this point the whole mansion could hear your moans and it was becoming insufferable, some people covering there ears to try and stop hearing while others just left the place for some peace and quiet, you felt most ad for logan and professor x who could hear better than anyone and sadly they were trying there best to stop listening to the sex but they just couldn't get away from it.
your ass was sore and your hole was gushing with remys cum as he didn't want to stop fucking you "such a dumb fucking whore for letting them think you were fucking me" remy spits out gripping your face to turn and look at him "now look at you moaning out my name while i mold your little hole to the perfect shape of my cock" he chuckles seeing your sweaty and tear ridden face from the rough sex.
all you could do was babble and moan at his words, to far gone to even understand what he was saying you just knew he wasn't going to slow down till every one heard you moaning his name, if anything you blamed scott for starting the rumor that you fucked remy after he walked past your room and heard remy moaning your name and ran to tell everyone else.
really what happend was you were teasing remy that night, edging him to the point of cumming just to stop but that story is one for another day not now, you begged remy to stop "i think they got the point rem please i need a break" you said with a hiccup, it felt like your hole was gonna split in two from the amount of force he was using while he abused your spongy walls "mm i dont know should i, i mean for a slut like yourself id expect you to love every inch of this dick" remy laughs.
you whined at his words "how 'bout this say my name and ill cum and stop" he say with a sinister smile, you thought this was gonna be hella easy but the moment you said the first letter remy fucked you roughly making you moan out instead, this motherfucker was teasing you on "oh come on baby i know in that pretty little mind of your you know it" remy taunts tapping the side of your head with his fingers.
"i... i do" you pant "it's re- fuck" you say getting cut off by his cock gliding past your good spot to the point you saw stars floating in the room "mm mm wrong name darling" he whispers in your ear and you could hear the smirk on his face "fuck you" you roll your eyes "oh but you're the only one getting fucked here, pretty good might i add" he says pushing you back down into the bed, you rutted your hips against the fabric of the blanket.
"hey did i say you could do that" remy sternly says now pinning your arms behind your back and lifting your ass up to have your dick dangle in the air aching hard "say my name" he orders smacking your ass making more precum fall from your cock "da... daddy" you moan "louder" remy says now slamming into you "daddy" you yell out "one more time for me handsome" remy groans on the edge of his climax "DADDY" you moan loudly, remy now spilling his thick load into you as he still has a rough grip on you.
after a couple seconds he pulls his twitching cock out of you slowly, watching the cum drip out of you "now who's hole is this" he asks spanking your ass to jolt you up "yours remy" you weakly answer "that's right and never forget it" remy says crawling up to cuddle you.
taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft
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thewritetofreespeech · 6 months
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Could I request Lucifer finding out his s/o was once engaged but got divorced because her ex-fiancé cheated on her with another woman? The worst part? After finding out how much of a greedy, incompetent, and selfish woman his new wife is, her ex now wants to get back with her.
Lucifer x Reader - Running into an Ex
He usually didn’t like going up to the human world, but it seemed he was making exceptions for [Y/N] more & more. His will was weak when it came to their requests. Though he justified it by it only being fair for them to go on their dates ‘up top’ from time to time as they spent most of their time in the Devildom.
Plus with all the mischief, misadventures, and just plain in-fighting between him & his brothers, they could use a break.
They had just finished dinner at a restaurant almost as nice as Ristorante Six when someone called [Y/N]’s name out on the street like a common beggar. “I thought that was you. How have you been?”
“I’m…fine…” Lucifer could tell they were uncomfortable. Clearly this person was someone they knew but was not thrilled to run into. Sensing this would take a moment, Lucifer waved off the car waiting for them and told them to take another lap. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved.”
“Keeping tabs on me, eh?” His fake laugh was insufferable. “I uh…moved back with my wife last year. With the economy crash and everything, it was just better to stay back home.”
“Oh. Your mother didn’t mention it.”
“You still take to my mom? Well, I guess that makes sense. You two were always close. You look….great, by the way.”
“…thank you…”
The tension and conversation were getting tighter. To the point that Lucifer felt obligated to step in. “We should get going, [Y/N]. We don’t want to be late for our travels tomorrow.” He’s never wanted to return home immediately so much in his life, but he wouldn’t open a portal, or ruin [Y/N]’s trip, like that.
“Yes. We should go-“Wait [Y/N]. Can I…talk to you for a minute before you go? You don’t mind right, do you my guy?”
Lucifer glared at the man, but turned to [Y/N] who nodded and said it was alright. He nodded back and pressed his hand to the small of their back to let them know he was still there, but moved off to the side to give them space. Not that he couldn’t hear every word with his demon hearing.
“You really do look great by the way.”
“What do you want [X/N]? Shouldn’t you be home with your wife.”
“Gah…don’t say it like that…” The man scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand. Clearly a man defeated. “Look, I know now what I did to you was wrong. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, or our engagement. I just….had cold feet about the marriage thing.”
Lucifer was shocked. He didn’t know [Y/N] had been engaged. But, if what the man said was true, then he could see why they didn’t mention it to him. It sounded painful.
“You didn’t seem too un-keen on the idea when you jumped right in to marry the woman you cheated on me with.”
“Grass is always greener…” Lucifer sneered at the man’s second untimely joke. He then stepped closer to [Y/N]; raising Lucifer’s hackles. “I wanted to let you know I made a mistake. What I did…who I’m with now…it’s all wrong. I wanted to reach out to you but I could never get a hold of you since everyone said you were abroad or something.” Yes, or something. “When I ran into you now, I knew it was fate. Please. Give me another chance.”
[Y/N] wrenched their hand away from them but stood their ground. “You think I would give you another chance after what you did?! I can never trust you. Besides, you’re married now. What are you doing to get a divorce and jump into another marriage just like that? Out with the old in with the new? Oh, I’m sorry, out with the new in with the old.”
“Hey! I came to you and told you I made a mistake. That I’m unhappy and I want to try again. The least you can do is consider it!”
“ ‘Consider it’?? So I’m doing you the favor here. In case you missed it, along with you being married, I’m here with someone as well.”
“That guy?? He’s too posh for you. A guy like that is just using you probably for sex or arm candy. Make him look more down to Earth. Do you really want to be with someone so far out of your league that you just feel inferior all the time? You should be with someone on your level. Like me.”
“I can assure you sir, the levels [Y/N] would have to stoop to be on your level would require excavation equipment to access.”
The man seemed startled by Lucifer’s sudden reappearance in their conversation. Also likely from his looming figure. Not his demon form, but not his full human disguise either. The full weight of his anger and disgust at this insect talking to [Y/N] like that making him seem probably 10 feet tall to the man.
“Please cease this horrendous display of accosting people on the street who had the unfortune of knowing you and go home to your wife. You may have regretted your decision in a mate, but I have not. There’s no way in hell,” [Y/N] snorted once at that, “that I am going to let you talk to them this way or ruin our evening any further.”
As if summoned by his magic, the car pulled up again beside them and Lucifer opened the door. “Come my love. We have no longer a need to be here anymore.” [Y/N] slide in and he closed the door, before turning to face the man again. “And should you ever be stupid enough to contact [Y/N] again with these ridiculous notions and your own inflated ego, I will personally see to it that you are torn limb from limb by wild dogs by the time I’m through with you.” His eyes flashed red once. Obviously startling the man who almost fell into the street before he rounded the car and got in on the other side.
“I’m sorry I never mentioned him before.” [Y/N] apologized as they drove off.
Lucifer shrugged. “Having met him, he doesn’t seem like a man worth mentioning.” He reached out his hand and clasped it with their own. Such a horrible person would not ruin their evening. And he would see to it that [Y/N] never thought of them again, as he would do everything in his power to make sure they felt love and adored. Second to no one.
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2hightocare · 7 months
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LOVE WAGER! 01
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Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?
Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.
Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!
a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌
★ masterlist!
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3 years ago…
You were a hopeless romantic.
Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.
The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.
The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.
It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.
You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?
You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.
Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.
Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.
You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.
“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.
“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’
Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.
“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.
“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.
“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.
“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.
“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.
“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.
“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.
“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.
“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.
“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.
“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.
“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.
“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.
“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.
“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.
“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.
2 years ago..
The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.
You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.
“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.
Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.
“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.
“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.
“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.
As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.
“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.
He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.
“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.
“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.
You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.
“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.
“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.
“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.
“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.
“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.
His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.
“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.
“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.
“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.
“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.
“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let���s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.
He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.
“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.
You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.
A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.
“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.
Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.
“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.
“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.
“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.
Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.
He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.
Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.
Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.
He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.
He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.
Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.
Present day..
Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.
As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.
You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.
As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.
While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.
“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.
He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.
“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.
Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.
“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.
“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.
“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.
“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.
You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.
“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.
“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.
“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.
“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.
“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.
“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.
“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.
You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.
For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.
“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.
“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.
“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.
"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.
Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.
You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?
As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.
What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?
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Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)
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lucky-clover-gazette · 2 months
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so i know the amandafiles sneasler rant went pretty viral on here, but the real highlights of her pokemon legends arceus playthrough were her unhinged volo-related rants. this one is probably my favorite but there were many and i will absolutely clip and transcribe (not by hand i'm not that insane) more of them if asked
transcript under the cut:
Yeah. So, um, I'm just kind of leaving the scene of the crime now. And hopefully Adaman is still interested. That's all I have to say. Yeah, that's my statement at this time. Thank you. Thank you! Yeah, mhm. Bye.
Like, what. Is Volo gonna fucking pop out at me from the shadows over here? Is anybody around to talk to me? Like, about what just happened?
(Sees Melli.) Not what I meant, but um, you know what? Fuck it, Melli, guess what just happened. So, you know that guy Volo? Basically, like, we were talking, right? It was actually going pretty well. You know, just like this nerd, and he was like, so cute and so, like, excited about history and stuff, and, like, I was really feeling that, you know, and I dunno, he was, like, my champion. He was there for me when no one else was. He, like, picked me up off the ground at my lowest point. He was always cheering me on. He was always, like, hyping me up to other people. Wouldn't that be awesome, Mellie, if like someone ever did that for you? Not that that would ever happen, of course, but, like, can you imagine, like, someone being out there being like, "yes, like, that's the one, like, that's my girl. She's been doing it like, she's working so hard." That was Volo for me.
Melli, imagine my surprise when I go up to the mountain there because—we did this whole thing. Basically, I'm an important person. You wouldn't really understand. I, like, collected all these artifacts. I thought we were going to, like, do this thing that was important to, like, the history of the world.
But turns out Volo was fucking insane. And, like, no, I truly mean that, like crazy and saying he was like, a totally different person. He had been cosplaying as a normie the entire time. He's really a serial killer, I think. He's like a lunatic, right? Like, a cringey one. He did his hair. So he, like, is obsessed with Arceus. Right. The god pokémon. And Arceus, like—have you ever seen a picture of him? I'll pull it up on my Arc Phone real quick. He's got these, like, horns that come back and stuff. Bitch, he did his HAIR like this. AHH! I know. I got, like, a little picture of it. Look at him! An entire bottle of American Crew.
He, like, totally thought he ate that, but, like, he didn't. It looked so bad, but, like, that was the least of it. He was—his eyes got crazy. He was wearing, like, bright green capris and gladiator sandals. AHH! Melli, I know. it was fucked up. You know, it's like how quickly they change when you find out, like, what they really were after and what they really want. It was stunning. Startling, Melli, it's really like—have you ever had, like, an experience like that before with a guy? Probably not, since you're so insufferable and, like, you probably have never had anyone show interest in you before, platonically or otherwise, but maybe, like, read a book or something where that happened. That happened to me. That happened to me today.
I really had a huge crush on this guy. Like, to the point where I thought he was the one, Melli, I really did. I was like, ready to leave this whole place with him. Travel the world, and I won't lie to you, um… if he had been like, "Hey, you want to be crazy together? You want to be crazy with me?" I might have done it. I might have also tried that lifestyle out for a minute. I would have tried, like, the villain arc thing out… but lucky for you, it didn't work out. Otherwise, you would have been right on the top of my list. But anyway, yeah, I ended up, like, totally embarrassing him. We did a pokémon battle and he just fucking violently lost.
And then he teamed up with, like, the satan pokémon? It was weird. And they tried their little thing. It was cute. It was very cute. You know, I have to give it—it was camp, It was cute, it was like rehearsed. There was some choreography. It was cute, but obviously they lost horribly. But anyway, yeah, that's, uh. That's how my Tuesday's going. And I'm going to stop you there, Melli, because I really don't care. This wasn't an open invitation for you to talk. I just wanted to let someone know what had just happened.
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mncxbe · 1 year
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Omg, How do you think Dazai, Ranpo, and Jouno (if you want you can add some people) react if their S/o is still stuck in the "Crush phase", like subconsciously smiling at them, sometimes forgetting to breathe (is that just me ?), hiding their face, you get the gist :]
Omg this is so sweet I cannot- I made it kinda sappy hihi let's get right into it♡♡♡ also sorry it took so long to post. school is killing me💀
°☆●
Me, blushing? Nah...
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐, 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊
cocky bastard (affectionately)
teases you so much about it omg but does find it adorable
"Aww my bella's still flustered around me? Glad I didn't lose my charm"
no bcs if you catch him off guard; like if he sees you look at him with those big doe eyes he will defo get flashbacks of the times you first started going out on dates
he smiles so gently and he's so happy
like don't underestimate the love this man will have for you fr
You were currently sitting at a square table, tucked in the corner of your favourite coffee shop, with your loving boyfriend facing you. He's been listening to you talk about your insufferable colleagues at work for about half an hour.
You knew you were starting to get the facts mixed up in a jumble of incoherent sentences but you couldn't help it; not when Dazai was looking at you with those beautiful, chocolate brown eyes and that smile you loved so much.
And oh, how blissfully aware he was of the effect he had on you. It warmed his heart to see you act so nervous around him, because of him, after all this time...
He never thought the two of you would last. Maybe a couple of weeks or months, yea. But three whole years? And the relationship was still going well? He was the luckiest man of Earth.
"Aww is my pretty girl blushing again?" he cooed as he leaned over the table and pinched your cheek lightly.
"What? No, I'm not..." you whined in protest as you covered your face with one of your hands.
"It's ok bella. I know you'll never resist my charms. Now please go on talking. I love the gossip" he mocked again, but you caught the hint of softness in his voice.
Taking a deep breath in, you resumed your talk, hand subconsciously reaching out across the table for his.
Dazai intertwined his fingers with yours, meeting them mid-way. He listened carefully, sliding his thumb over yours like he did a countless times before- like he'll do until the end of time because he loves you- and he smiled, nodding at your words.
𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐
cocky bastard part 2
much like Dazai he loves your reactions; it's a gentle reminder that you still love him the same way you did when you became a couple
also teases you a bit but let's be honest, he's probably stuck in the crush phase too
y'all are so giddy all the time really
Lost in deep thought, Ranpo swirled his tongue around a cherry flavoured lollipop; fingers mindlessly tapping against the cushioned couch in a slow rhythm.
"You see. Those people must've been hiding in the warehouses closest to the city. They needed a fast escape route so picking the ones on the shore would've made no sense."
For the past ten minutes Ranpo's been explaining to you how he captured a group of gun dealers, deducing the location of their hideout from a mere stain he found on one of the men's shoes.
As per usual, you listened patiently to all he had to say. Your boyfriend's stories never ceased to fascinate you; he was simply amazing. As you watched him nonchalantly explaining every step of his deduction, his signature grin stretched on his lips; a rosy tint rose to your cheeks.
"And anyway, that's how we narrowed down the possible options for the warehouses. Since the ones on the eastern side were patrolled more often, only the ones in the western side remained as- Hey, you still listening to me?"
His question snapped you out of your trance and you nodded eagerly.
"Yes babe. Sorry. I was just distracted for a moment"
Ranpo didn't fail to notice the way you averted his gaze from his and how your blush grew deeper when he leaned in, placing a finger under your chin to make you face him again.
"Then look at me when I'm talking, sugar. You know I can't stand it when I don't have all your attention."
"Sure Ranpo, sure. Now go on please" you urged him and he couldn't help but smile.
Your boyfriend indulged you, continuing his story from where he was left but his attention now shifted to you. He was speaking mechanically, focusing on your awed expression and trying his best to conceal his pride and joy. Even after all these years of being a couple, you were still so excited and giddy whenever he told you about a case at work.
He remembered your first date, when he accidently rambled on about some murder that happened in your neighbourhood and you stood these smiling, just like you did now, listening to him talk. That's the day he knew you were the one.
When he finally finished talking you clapped your hands, merrily swaying from side to side.
"That was great love. I'm sure I would've never figured it out. You're amazing"
Ranpo chuckled and placed a quick kiss on your lips, causing you to flush again.
"And you're adorable when you blush like that" he said gently, booping your nose.
𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐
he's so painfully aware of all your reactions
when your breath hitches when you watch him cook dinner for you? he catches that; when your heart beats slightly faster when the two of you cuddle? he doesn't miss that either
doesn't always want to admit it but he loves it
also doesn't tease you too often about it; he simply doesn't point it out because he knows he still reacts the same to you
congrats, you made his heart melt
Your boyfriend was minding his own business, typing away some reports at the kitchen table when you placed a cup of steaming coffee next to him.
"Here you go sir. A double shot espresso with no milk and no soy sauce." you said playfully, causing Jouno's lips to curl into a smile.
"You're hilarious, you know that?" he mocked as he rose the cup to his lips and took a sip.
And then he heard it: the faint thumping of your heart and your sharp exhale.
"Something wrong, love?" he asked cautiously, placing the cup back on its ceramic plate.
"No just..." you began, blushing furiously "You're really handsome when you work. I mean, you look so focused and all."
Your words came out a mindless babble, causing your boyfriend to smirk.
"Who knew you'd still be so giddy after all this time. You watch me work almost every day"
"Well, you're still as handsome as always so..."
He reached out a hand, motioning you to come closer to him and you closed the distance between you. Jouno swiftly pulled you onto his lap, relishing the way your heart skipped a beat when his arm wrapped around your waist. You were brimming with joy, like a kid in a candy store.
And little did you know that so did Jouno. He didn't want to admit it but he still got flustered when he took notice of the effect he had on you. It was a sweet, gentle reminder that, although your love had matured and changed during the two years you've been together, deep down you still adored him the same way you did at first.
Resting his chin on your shoulder, Jouno went back to typing his report.
"Just stay with me for a while, will you? Tell me if I make any mistakes while writing" he asked in a hushed voice and you nodded in response, adjusting your position on his lap.
'Perfect...' he thought to himself as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. 'This was perfect'
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nebulous-library · 1 year
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how they fall in love - tokrev boys
aka the april 14th "i made it through valentine's day AND white day without any romantic attention" special. happy singles day to all who celebrate. hcs for a selections of my personal tokyo revengers blorbos, including: Mikey, Draken, Baji, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Hakkai, Taiju, Koko, and Inupi.
Mikey falls in love with uncertainty. He’s used to feeling so much all the time at once that he isn’t sure he could pinpoint love in the middle of all of it. But until he knew you, it didn’t matter. As you get closer to him, he becomes more acutely aware that he definitely has positive, pleasant feelings toward you. He may even get himself in trouble by picking fights with others who steal your attention from him. It probably takes Draken, Takemichi, or Emma to be like, “So, about this crush you have….” and he’d be like, “...the what.” Be patient with him, he’ll come around, and when he realizes both his own and your feelings, he’ll be the sweetest boyfriend. Please do not accept anything he cooks for you though. No chance in hell that he can cook.
Draken falls slowly. He starts by noticing how cute you are when you do mundane tasks, or the little things that make your eyes sparkle, and he finds himself wanting to know more. He’s very observant when it comes to details, and might surprise you here and there by bringing you your favorite drink or a treat of some sort, but his love language is definitely quality time. Whatever your hobbies are, he’ll definitely start feeling a stronger attachment to you if you do that thing in his vicinity while he’s working on fixing up a bike or something. It’ll take him some time to come to the conclusion that it’s love, but in the meantime he’ll settle for the warm swell in his chest that he feels when you’re around. 
Baji falls quietly, behind the scenes. If he doesn’t know you like him back, he’ll operate under the assumption that you don’t and just be content with just being by your side and will express his feelings via little gestures that show he cares and listens to you. This can range anywhere from noticing you’re warm and turning on the AC, or torching a vending machine that ate your change. Depends on his mood. Another way he’ll show his affection is by sharing things with you; food, beverages, etc., yes, but also hair ties. And he won’t even ask for them back. If you keep the hair tie he gave you and wear it on your wrist? He’s as good as gone. Please confess to him soon, this boy is down worse than he lets on.
Chifuyu falls in love like an idiot. He doesn’t fall for just anyone, but when he does, he’s immediately head over heels. In a borderline insufferable way, too. We’ve seen how clingy he was with Baji. He is gonna make himself your personal guard dog, whether you want it or not. He’s gonna go out of his way to bring you tokens of his adoration like a courting magpie. I’m so serious, this is the boy who will bring you a really fucking shiny rock he saw that made him think of you. If you try to talk to him normally, though, you’d better be prepared for him to get all flustered and formal about it. But once you get him out of his own head about it, he’s loyal and dedicated and affectionate. 
Kazutora falls in love like he isn’t sure what love really is. Sweet boy has been through so much, especially growing up in a family situation like his. He doesn’t know what love looks like, and he worries that if he were to be in love, he wouldn’t do it right. He’s one you’ll really have to take initiative with imo. But if you show him your love, he’ll slowly but surely follow suit. Show him that love can be gentle and playful and fun. Show him that it can be tender or sweet or passionate. Show him the love he’s never gotten, and he’ll learn to show you his love in return. 
Hakkai falls hard and fast, but you wouldn’t know it. He knows he likes you the moment he sees you, but if you so much as make eye contact with him, he freezes and is immediately beet red. It will take at least three people shoving him directly at you and coaching him through what to say to actually ask you out. 
Taiju falls in love stubbornly. When love isn’t what he thought it would feel like, when it ends up making him feel all mushy in his core, he rebukes it. He denies it. He tries anything in his power to keep this weakness from entering his body. He’s never known what it is to be soft and doesn’t understand why you make him feel this way. He might be cute and a little tsuntsun about it, but you’ve already cracked his shell and he can’t deny it forever.
Koko falls hesitantly. He’s nervous when it comes to vulnerability, but devoted nonetheless. Think toned down and bottled up version of Chifuyu. On the surface, he seems like he has mad game, but we all know he’s a weenie at his core, and he knows it too. He’ll seem calm and collected around you, he may even be a little flirty, but just know he’s dying inside. I suggest putting him out of his misery and confessing first, but c’mon, we all know it’d be so much cuter if he accidentally blurted it out and then was all surprised when you tell him you feel the same way. But he’s most definitely gonna keep it bottled up until he bursts.
Inupi falls in love quietly, similarly to Baji. He trusts quickly, and when he knows, he knows. He’s not going out of his way to make some big, dramatic confession, though. But he will absolutely be glued to your side. Just existing near you. He won’t be the chattiest person, but you’ll find that he’ll always have something meaningful to say. You’ll probably get more out of him if you can get him alone, honestly. Let him take you for a ride on his bike to someplace you can just enjoy each other’s company and he’ll bare his soul to you. 
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khloxxy · 3 months
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hello! i hope you're doing well ^_^ i just wanna ask about your favorite headcanon of rus, cana and ame (if you're up for it, no pressure, i wanna see what kumajirou looks like in your style)
i like your art! don't mind me if you see me liking your posts hehe
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Hello (^_^) thank you... Your art is very beautiful I'm honoured... Sorry if this is kinda late(?) my brain works best when it's the middle of the night. I wrote this in my notes at like 3am...
My headcanons are really messy and subject to change so keep that in mind 🙏 Gonna put them under a read more cause they're pretty long and I rambled on and on.. Got carried away sorry!! Also it's kind of cringe at some points but that's okay. To be cringe is to be free.
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Rus: My beloved... He's cute, yes, but also very creepy. (I love a creepy rus) I see him as this character that's always looming over everyone, always watching... He likes how docile and obedient Cana is, and with Ame... well... He likes the challenge.
He likes the arts... And I believe he's an incredible poet and dancer. I like to think that Rus spends his free time writing hauntingly beautiful poetry in a journal of his since there are a lot of beautifully written Russian literature... That journal could also probably work as his diary too because why not. He also does ballet and figure skating, and Ame probably calls him gay for it, this irks Rus but that's okay. He'll rip the tongue out of that American's loud mouth one day. He just has to be patient. (that last part is cringe but my rusame brain told me to write it)
For music I think he'd like classical (tchaikovsky) and metal. I also think he'd visit old abandoned buildings just to see the ruins. Maybe even appreciate the architecture? He finds beauty in the decay.
His relationship with Ame is a game of chess (Rus loves chess, so he loves whatever he has going on with Ame), each move calculated, each interaction charged with unspoken tension (they never reveal their love for eachother... the only time that would happen is probably in life-or-death situations but with their immortality that's practically impossible – actually you know what?? Scratch that. No confessions... Unless drunk or under the influence of something maybe.) With Cana, it's more like a delicate dance, appreciating his gentleness but always aware of the fragile nature of their bond – he's aware that cana and him are only really bound together through Ame.
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Cana: Neglected boy (eng and fra both coddled Ame more) ... Envious of Ame but still loves him – he's frustrated. He knows so much about Ame but Ame knows nothing about him. Ame doesn't care enough to bother learning about him. It's unfair. I believe he actually has Kumajirou for comfort... But even his pet bear doesn't remember him (to be fair, he doesn't remember Kumajirou's name either.)
For music taste, I think he'd like shoegaze actually... it's calm yet messy-ish and it matches well with his vibe. (Totally not just projecting my music taste onto him)
He dislikes being in the shadow of his brother but he does appreciate his brother sticking up for him. Doing all the talking for him. He doesn't like new people usually. They never understand. (Never understand his freak.. yes Cana has a hidden freak to me.)
He genuinely gets along with rus. They're more similar than they initially thought after all. I mean they're both shy (to a point), both live in cold climates, both have weird relationships with ame... And both are connected through Ame... Rus and Cana both recognize that they are intrinsically tied together only through Ame.
---
Ame: Insufferable (put him in the eternal torture chamber!) Even so, Rus and Cana are still drawn to him like moths to a flame. Type of guy to test the limits of his immortal body... I wish Hima did more with their immortality because that is such an interesting subject. Probably has more DUIs than you can count. Has crashed a plane on purpose. No way you can be the United States of America and not end up crazy.
For the Cold War... Ame was genuinely disappointed when the USSR fell, he was like "well... what now...??" Because for several decades he had a villain to match his hero... But now that Rus fell off... what now? He misses the thrill and rush of it (he's a thrill-seeker... Type 3 fun typa guy). Also, he knew nothing would actually happen anyhow because of M.A.D (Mutually Assured Destruction) no one would actually drop bombs.. right? (they had a few close calls). Maybe the cold war was just one big edging session... (Lmfao sorry had to say it)
Okay adding to the above thing but the paragraph got too long for me. Another reason why Ame thrived in the cold war is that Rus had his singular attention on him. Just him. He loved that. He loved having all of someone's attention. He can't help it. He's just a girl! 🎀 (Kinda yandere-ish vibes but I fw yandere ideas so... Actually all 3 of them could be yandere in the right mindset.)
To me, Ame is the kind of person who thrives on adrenaline, always seeking the next big rush – he's also a huge sucker for attention. That's why he does the crazy things he does. For attention. After all, what is he without attention?
With Cana, well this is a me thing but I like to think that Ame is actually quite clingy with his brother.. He's one of the only people Ame allows to touch him.. Ame's not a very touchy person. Ame does crave genuine connections and Cana is one of the few that can offer that. They're each other's one and only brother after all. That has to mean something.
His relationship with Cana? Complicated... They seem good from the outside but Ame barely knows anything about his brother. Cana could say a million things about Ame but Ame could only respond with maybe a few hundred or so things about Cana – heck, maybe even that would be stretching it. Although, Ame does care for his brother in his own way, truly.
Last little thing I'd like to add: Ame has a collection of vintage stuff. I don't know why. Vintage things just scream American to me. Like old comic books..
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hijackalx · 11 months
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A LITTLE DEATH +18
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SUMMARY: You follow Astarion into the woods with plans to kill him, though it doesn’t play out exactly how you hoped.
WORD COUNT: 3394
UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, hatesex, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, vaginal sex, astarion tends to be more dom, d/s, biting, some sadism and masochism, overstimulation, degradation, good aligned reader
You get along with most of your traveling party. Even amongst your differences, you can find it in yourselves to make peace while chasing your common goal.
You say 'most' because there's one that you just can't bring yourself to like— the damned vampire elf. He's insufferable; always questioning your leadership and ideals, not to mention his piss-poor attitude about everything.
On top of that, some of the things that come out of his mouth are downright awful. "Just let them die," he said, bearing an irritated and inconvenienced reaction to the wellbeing of the entire grove. "We're not here to babysit those in need of culling."
You haven't spoken to him since. To be honest, you've spent the time pondering if you really need someone like that around. Who's to say he won't someday see you and the others as those "in need of culling"?
As the leader of the party, you have to make the right decisions— and you think in this situation, the right decision is to get rid of him.
It's not like you've decided this in the spur of the moment, either. This tension has been building between you two since you met, and a perpetually winding coil is bound to snap and cut someone eventually.
That someone won't be you.
It's early. The night has only just begun to lift, welcoming a gentle blue in its place. You lay in your bed, staring at the tapered ceiling with your hands folded over your stomach.
You listen for the familiar rustle of fabric just outside your tent. Your body springs up as if on cue, peeking your head out to investigate silently. There he is, you watch as the elf leaves his own tent at the same time he always does.
He follows his usual path off into the woods, and this time, you'll follow him.
Before you leave, your adrenaline-ridden hand fumbles around your bedroll, searching. Finally, it graces the sensation of a wooden object, one that you conceal in your waistband beneath your shirt.
You stumble after his footfalls, careful not to lose sight of him in the shadows.
He wanders into a small clearing of trees before stopping. You halt, kneeling in the brush. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, a slight tremor to your limbs. You're not sure what has overcome you— fear? excitement?
It doesn't matter what you feel. You just need to get this over with.
You watch him inquisitively as he begins reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls the material up and over his head, tossing it to the side.
You swallow deeply, fighting the urge to avert your eyes. When you learned of his early morning walks, you didn't think it involved disrobing.
He sits in front of a ledge overlooking the valley, folding his legs together and gazing at the sky expectantly. Now would be the perfect time to reveal yourself, but you're frozen in place from observing the strange ritual before you.
It isn't until the first ray of light peeks over the horizon that you realize what madness he's up to. In all its golden glory, the sun bathes his body with a matching hue. He breathes in, letting its warmth encase his cold, dead figure.
His head turns slightly, his profile partially blocked by his shoulder. Though, you can see that his eyes fall closed while he basks.
Now...! You inhale sharply, your entire body tensing with anticipation.
"If you'd like to join me so badly, I'd prefer that you ask first."
Your heart stutters at the sound of his voice, loud and clear as if to catch the attention of another. Surely, it's not you he's talking to?
He lets out a small laugh. "Well, I won't say yes. But I'd appreciate the gesture much more than I do your... creeping." His brow lowers in a manner of disgust. Moments later, his piercing red iris is staring right back at you.
Instead of flinching, you stand impossibly still like a frightened rabbit.
"Honestly, did you think you were being clever? I could hear your every move from the minute you left your tent," there's a lilt of amusement to his tone as if your failure is humorous to him. It makes your blood boil just enough to snap you out of your daze.
Clearing your throat, you step out from behind your cover. "I apologize for my inefficiency in lurking in the shadows. It's not something we honest people often have to do."
You see the immediate frown on his face. He shoots you a glance like a dagger before quickly regaining composure. "Ever the self-deprecating one, aren't we?" he exhales.
Your shoes grow wet with morning dew as they wade through the grass. You stop directly behind him, glaring down at the back of his head.
So cocky while being so close to death. You hope you'll be half as ignorant when your time comes.
Under your newfound proximity, he seems to fall uncharacteristically quiet— as do the birds and frogs.
Though barely a hum, his voice cuts through the silence disruptively, "... Y'know," he starts slowly, "I'm not the most intuitive type, but I'm starting to feel like you're not here because you missed my company."
"Maybe you should trust your gut."
His next words seem to catch in his throat, immediately being replaced with a sigh.
Unexpectedly, he stands and faces you without caution, as if you'd hesitate to drive your stake through him at any given moment.
And, to your dismay, hesitate is exactly what you do. Your hand lingers over where you keep the stake behind your back, though never touching it.
His body blocks the day's freshly bloomed rays, leaving you in the darkness of his silhouette. You feel a twinge of intimidation, yet you do not falter. You hold his stare and refuse to give up ground.
A smirk fights its way onto his lips, carving into his previously stark expression. "Too pure-hearted to carry out the assassination attempt while you still had the upper hand?"
Your eyes flit down briefly to catch his fingers twitching at his sides. You don't know what he's thinking, but you'll assume it's a far cry from your best interests.
"This isn't something that I want to do—"
With that, something in him seems to snap— you spot the exact moment it happens as his irises are encased in a sea of white. He throws his arms in the air exasperatedly, sharply interrupting your sentence with, "Yes, it is!"
You fail to conceal the dip to your brow, startled by the suddenness of his response. You suppose his reaction is befitting of an altercation only one of you will walk away from.
Still, you pictured someone like him accepting death with a bit more grace.
"You have wanted this from the very moment we met!" his tone wavers slightly, a weary strain intertwining his words. "So what you're not going to do is sit here and tell me how righteous you are before killing me!"
Just when you think he's going to make you fight for it, he seems to collect himself back into his usual poise. "… You're going to tell me how badly you want to kill me first." His nostrils flare as he peers up at you through his dark lashes. "You will give me that much."
A heavy atmosphere lingers in the narrow space between you while you watch his face jerk with resentment. You're not sure why, but the expression makes you feel... strange.
"Say it."
Your lips move before you can create any sound, taken aback by the oddity of his command. "I... want to kill you," you say with a sense of uncertainty, hardly at a decipherable volume.
"Like you mean it.”
It’s at this moment that you realize he behaves no differently in the face of death than he does in an everyday confrontation, and you’re reminded of why you're here in the first place— of all the stress he's given you since day one, all the nose-to-nose arguing and fighting— you can kill him under the guise of protecting others from harm, but the self-centered benefits you’ll reap are almost too obvious.
"I want to fucking kill you," you spit.
So, why don't you? Why do you still stand here, waiting? Why does the stake you stayed up carving for hours, perfectly sleek and pointed, remain unconcerned?
He swallows deeply, and it seems he's wondering the same thing.
You catch the way he watches your mouth part, your exhales thick with adrenaline. Then, his gaze returns to yours, and it seems all the more obvious how his head has just barely tilted.
Something other than hatred flashes in the shadows of his furrowed brow, the separate emotions sitting side by side as if becoming one.
He grabs your arm, yanking you closer. In a single, swift motion, his other hand tangles into the hair at the back of your head, bringing your lips to his.
The sensitive skin crashes together in a burst of impulsiveness. Your hands come up to grab his face while your mouths connect painfully. It's sloppy, and you don't quite sync up. You're both trying to dominate the other, and it feels more like a battle than a kiss.
He uses his teeth to his advantage, biting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. You lose some nerve from the metallic taste, yet it only fuels his aggression further. The red paints both of your lips, leaving a blushing stain. He harshly runs his tongue over the wound, making you wince as he agitates the sore spot.
In response, you shove him away with all your strength, anger prevalent in the action. He stumbles back, watching you intensely as he uses his forearm to wipe his mouth.
You throw off your shirt, letting the humid air embrace your breasts and torso. As you work quickly to remove your pants as well, you drop your stake in the grass, which he studies for a moment before glancing back at you.
He makes you feel like an object as his eyes graze over your skin, hungry. You approach him once more, impatiently searching for his mouth.
While he distractedly runs his palms over your body, relishing the soft, warm curves, you opt to push him into the boulder behind him. For a split second, he breaks away from the kiss and peers over his shoulder, making note of your plan.
As he puts his hands on your waist to lift you, you reluctantly allow him to place you atop the rock instead. Out of frustration, your fist hits his bare chest, to which he inattentively steadies by your wrist.
He begins kissing down your neck, and you grab at his hair while he does. You end up pulling too hard, and he bites down in retaliation. You don't bleed, but it'll leave a mark.
"Bastard," you hiss.
His hands run up and down your thighs before he traces a finger over your clothed pussy. You buck your hips as the fabric brushes against your clit, and he wastes no time in dipping beneath the garment to play with the needy bud.
He rests his weight on his opposite hand, his nose lingering closely to your neck. The erratic breaths raise goosebumps on your skin.
You lean back on your palms, giving him better access to your body. He coats his digit in your essence, toying with your clit. You twitch as you become more sensitive, which he exploits with unrelenting momentum.
He finally stops to bring his finger lower, teasing your spasming entrance. One of your hands tugs at the hairs by the base of his neck. "Astarion," you warn through gritted teeth. You hear him laugh by your ear before he shoves his finger inside you roughly.
You stifle a gasp as it fills you, the curl it harbors brushing your G-spot with every thrust. You let out small moans until you feel a deeper craving. "More," you huff, "I need more."
"Greedy whore,” he scoffs. "Just as I thought."
He leaves a quick kiss on your lips as he enters a second finger. You open your legs further to accommodate, letting out a sigh of relief as you feel your walls stretch around him.
Your slick produces squelching sounds as he thrusts in and out of you. A small groan escapes his lips, and he comments under his breath, "Gods, you're fucking tight."
You laugh pridefully, considering how many other partners he's had to compare you to. "That means a lot, coming from you."
He bears his teeth briefly in a snarl.
You glance down, noticing the hard-on in his pants. You slide your foot up his thigh mischievously, and he holds his breath as it approaches the tent in the fabric.
His fingers stutter as you push the ball of your foot against his cock, providing pressure that he needs worse than he previously thought.
His teeth rake in his bottom lip as he makes a poor attempt at containing himself. "Shit-eating little nymph, aren't you?" He addresses you with irritation prominent on his features. "Alright, then."
He pulls his fingers from you without warning, revealing the slippery substance you've left on them. With his other hand, he harshly grabs you by your jaw. "Open," he orders.
You comply, and he presses his soiled fingers to your tongue.
"Clean them."
Your mouth closes around the digits, running your tongue over and between the long, slender shapes. You taste yourself, swallowing what you gather while holding his gaze.
His eyes droop half-lidded, thick with lust. The breaths leaving his lips become heavier by the second.
The way he stares down at you— so animalistic, so needy— it makes you feel smug, but it also has you pressing your thighs together to satiate the throbbing desire in your cunt.
He pulls his fingers from your mouth, breaking a line of drool as they leave your lips.
His fingertips remain dug into your cheeks as your hearts pound in unison. It seems both of you are too proud to admit how badly you want what comes next.
You observe him; how his Adam's apple bobs in his throat, how his chest supports a thin sheen of sweat. There's a slight tremble to his figure, teeming with want that's begging to be set loose. You can't take it anymore— you'll lose this time if you have to.
"Please," your voice has never been spoken to him so gentle and pleading, "fuck me."
As if he'd been waiting to hear those words, he connects your mouths again passionately. This time, he leans you back on the cold material of the stone, the dew leaving icy pecks on your skin.
He pulls your underwear from your body, slinging them aside. Peering down, he admires how your folds and inner thighs glisten in the morning light. "You're perfect," he mutters.
As he undoes his pants, you stare between the window of your thighs at his cock being freed from his trousers. "... Yeah," you borderline whine.
Angling himself with your entrance, he tests you by pushing the tip inside. Your velvety walls immediately tighten around him, causing a groan to slip through his teeth.
He leans over you and entwines your hands with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, scooting your hips to the edge of the rock's surface, anxious for him to stretch you out.
He gets the message, slowly going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your body envelops him so desperately, and you nearly scoff at how you cling to your enemy like your savior.
Finally, he bottoms out with a choked moan, savoring the feeling of your needy pussy before fucking you at a steady pace.
He repeatedly slams into you, his tempo getting rougher as you adjust. You writhe as he hits all the right spots, waves of electricity sparking through your veins and weakening your limbs.
One of his hands slips down to lift your thigh, resting it over his shoulder. It allows him to reach further, and you arch your back as he brushes against your cervix.
You two create a symphony of pleasure, your voices complimenting each other.
His eyes follow yours, and you almost find yourself getting lost in the bloody hue. You turn your head to look away, disliking the feeling erupting in your stomach.
He nuzzles your neck as you unknowingly expose it. You feel his open mouth graze the sensitive skin, subtly running it up and down. He gets strangely quiet, his hips occasionally stuttering. Glancing over at him questioningly, you see his eyes screw shut before his bared fangs pierce your flesh.
It all happens in a matter of seconds. You yelp at the sharp, burning sensation. Your hand pulls at his hair and claws at his shoulders, but he only groans in response.
He continues fucking you while lapping up the blood spilling from your neck. The mix of pleasure and pain confuses you, but you still feel that knot growing tighter in your core.
You begin to experience some lightheadedness, but instead of hindering your enjoyment, it enhances it; it numbs your brain, and you can't think about anything other than this— other than him spreading you open and fucking you as if you're his, as if you've always been.
Your abdomen tenses and you feel your climax approaching quickly. You leave reddened grooves in his back while holding him in place with your heel. An array of noises spills from you as you arch your body into his.
"I hate you— fuck, I hate you," your voice cries out, partially slurred.
He finally pulls away with a sharp exhale, your blood drenching his chin. "I know," he responds breathlessly, leaving a trail of bloody kisses on your collarbone.
He wraps both arms around you to fuck you harder, drawing out your orgasm. Your body jolts with overstimulation, experiencing a sensation in your cunt that you can only describe as an ache. You push against him, but he holds you so tightly that it has no effect.
You notice how he’s starting to come apart; his rhythm becomes erratic, and his moans progress into a desperate whimper. All of his muscles are so taut and his face is endearingly tense— such a contrast to his typical haughty disposition. You conclude that you wouldn't mind seeing him like this more often.
You leave sickeningly sweet kisses along his jaw, caressing his face. "I know you want to cum, you stubborn prick," you say as he repeatedly knocks the breath from you. Pressing your mouth to his skin once more, you utter a quiet, "cum for me, then.”
He seems to think for a moment before making a split-second decision to pull out of you, his frustrated growl telling of his inner conflict. Aiming for your slit and thighs, he releases hot, thick ropes of cum that slowly drip towards your ass.
He stares between your legs like he's created a masterpiece; a concoction of fluids that you brought to fruition together. His thumb smears some of his seed around your folds, a worn grin making its way onto his face as his eyes flicker up at you.
"Really?" you stare back, straight-faced. "That's going to be such a pain to clean up." You know that's the exact reason he did it— why would he ever let anything be easy for you?
He laughs, ridiculous and pompous as ever. "Isn't it?" His hand runs through his unruly hair, lifting rogue strands from the sweat of his forehead. "Take my word for it when I say it's a very, very good look for you."
As you watch him fix himself up to be presentable, a sudden harrowing feeling overcomes you. It seems the euphoria from your little romp was more short-lived than you thought it'd be, and your dynamic was not so easily escaped.
"Flattery won't save your life," you state bluntly, lacking any evidence of the intimacy you two just shared.
"It won't." He walks over to your pile of clothing after tucking his shirt back in. With a still, cold expression, he drops the garments on your naked body to cover it. "But it'll make you miss me."
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carigm · 8 months
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MAJOR POTENTIAL SPOILERS/LEAKS REGARDING S5 (WARNING)
Last Spring/Summer, a semi popular fandom account on Twitter got sent some leaks about S5, focused on the first half of the season. At this time, many fandom accounts were receiving supposed leaks, so our attention was a bit scattered and we didn’t focus on any of them too much. A popular leak account on Twitter (unrelated to ST) also mentioned that they had gotten the first half of S5 leaked, and that this source is “never wrong”. Now, it is hard to tell if these leaks are the same as the ones that the specific fandom account I’m talking about received, but something to keep in mind. Her leaks were given to her by a person named James (which I assume is a fake name). These leaks were also posted on Reddit, last year, by her (the person in the fandom that got the leaks from James) but some major things were omitted in that post. I’m gonna leave a link here in case you guys want to read the discussion.
I’m sharing these leaks with you because some things from them are kinda lining up with what we’re seeing from S5 production. Keep in mind that these could be fake/wrong, and James himself said he didn’t have info on the last couple of scripts.
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According to James, Mike dies in Ep. 3. I’m adding more screenshots later for more context, but the gist of these leaks is that Mike bites it, mlvn never breakup nor do they get a resolution, and Byler is left up to interpretation but never really happens. (I don’t really need to get into how shitty this all is writing wise)
Let’s go over the things these leaks might have potentially gotten right, according to what we know so far.
1. James said that the time jump would occur in ep. 1, after an establishing scene where S4 left off. He said the time jump would place us in late 1987/early 1988. He also mentioned there would be a series of flashbacks showcasing stuff from before the time jump. The dates he gave do seem to be accurate, and David Harbour had a shaved head right before they went into filming, which could imply pre time jump scenes.
2. According to him, after Mike dies, they find a letter he had been writing. Some of us were theorizing Finn had a letter in his back pocket in those rooftop pics. Could’ve also been Finn’s script and he just stuck it there (who knows).
3. He said that Joyce gets badly injured in ep.3, and since there’s speculation Winona was seen filming at the hospital, some people think that means she was taken there because of her injury. It’s important to notice that Natalia, Cara, and Finn were also supposedly seen filming at the hospital, and that the production called for many extras for nurses and paramedics. So whatever they’re filming at the hospital, it might be bigger than Joyce getting injured in her leg. Let’s remember Max is at the hospital too. I’m not 100% sold on this part of the leaks.
4. Today it was revealed that they’re setting up to film at Stone Mountain. (This is where they filmed UD scenes for S4)
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Apparently production might have purple tentacles out already. (UD vines?)
Cara Buono mentioned, in that video shared by Ross Duffer, that she was filming stuff from Ep.2. This was around 2 days ago.
The people that know about the leaks think this is where Mike dies in ep. 3. Here’s some further context:
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Here’s some stuff he said about mlvn:
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Which is just….meh, because like I said, it doesn’t look like him and El ever breakup before his supposed death. Plus Byler never gets any resolution.
Now some things that might disprove the leaks (I’m trying to be impartial here)
1. These leaks mentioned Argyle a couple of times, saying he has a hero moment at some point. Eduardo made it sound like he’s not coming back to the show, but tbh he could just be lying. He’s listed for ep.2 on IMDb (and yes I know anyone with an account can edit that site)
2. These leaks say that Mike is very insufferable for the 3 episodes he’s alive, basically lashing out at everyone, specially El, and just overall behaving like an asshole. I really didn’t get that from the ElMike rooftop scene, in fact he seemed very gentle with her. People that know about these leaks think that the rooftop scene is Mike maybe apologizing to El and them having a heart to heart, right before he dies (no comment).
All in all, if Mike is dying this early, I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. The rest of the cast is gonna be filming for like a year, and Finn will be done in like two weeks 💀
I also hope there’s more leaks soon (on Reddit) so that we might compare them to these and see wtf is up.
I know someone is gonna inevitably ask why leaks would be out almost a whole year before they started filming when we usually get them during filming or post production, but I’ve been told these leaks happened around the time the writer’s strike began, which is when they were originally gonna start filming. I was also told other shows had issues with leaks around that same time.
I don’t want to get too much into the truly awful writing we’re facing if these are real but…First, I believe it’s a total disservice to Mike’s character. One of your mains since S1 and you don’t even offer him the option of dying towards the end of the season? Even fucking Eddie got that. Two, it seems like a very easy cop out for not having to make Byler canon. Let’s just have neither ship be endgame and that way we don’t get queerbaiting allegations. It also stands in a zone too close to torture porn for my liking, because sure let’s kill the character two of the most traumatized characters in the history of TV love most. And yes, it’s also a disservice to El and Will’s characters. And lastly, if that supposed letter vaguely alludes Mike having some sort of sexuality problems (we don’t know atp) it is pretty fucked up they just killed him off like that. Sure let’s not explore any of that, but give a half assed explanation via letter ex machina. This is looking like Supernatural finale levels of bad to me.
Another point, I distinctly remember the Duffers saying, after S4, that they could never kill off a character like Mike because it would be too painful, and that ST would cease to be ST and lose its identity. They didn’t want to be like GOT. I sincerely hope they actually meant this and were not trying to be cheeky or whatever the fuck.
It would be genuinely insane, and quite frankly, a highlight of their lack of writing abilities.
I hope the leaks are wrong, but I felt like it was necessary to warn everyone just in case. I know I’m not watching something this awful.
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peachhcs · 5 months
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something funny?
so high school au (emma grace x gabe perreault)
advanced french 2 and econ don’t mix. gabe has no idea what’s going on, but luckily emma does!
2.1k words
wooo first real fic of the au!! this was actually so cutie to write and if anyone has any requests/ideas for emma and gabe pls send them in! :))
au masterlist
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emma's gaze slid towards the dark-haired boy sitting beside her furiously scribbling down work for a class that most definitely wasn't for advanced french 2. the graphs and tables for sure screamed economics or something similar because she remembered very well doing those a few months ago before she graduated.
the blonde tore her eyes away from his work and tried focusing on the lecture at hand, but for some reason she just could not pay attention no matter how hard she tried. all emma could think about was the amount of work she needed to do once class was over while praying that a table was open somewhere in the library.
god knows everyone's trying to get ahead before the semester quite literally devours them. the professor started leaving her desk to mill about the classroom while she spoke and the boy beside emma hadn't even looked up once—too focused on econ.
the other thing was that emma was feeling gracious today, so she nudged the boy's leg so he'd at least look like he was paying somewhat attention when their professor walked by. his gaze shot to hers and emma just motioned towards their professor about to breeze right past them. gabe's head snapped right and he immediately hid his econ papers as the lady walked by.
"if you're not paying attention next time she walks by, i'm not helping you out," emma whispered. gabe's eyebrows rose, amusement on his features.
"jeez, okay. didn't ask for help in the first place," the boy shrugged as he returned his focus to his other work. emma studied him for a few moments trying and failing on getting the graph right.
an uncontrollable giggle left her lips at the boy's poor, poor attempt. his head snapped back in her direction, another eyebrow raised, "something funny?"
emma immediately shook her head despite the smile still tugging on her lips, "not at all."
"something must be funny if you're laughing," gabe sneered back. he's had a long day—being up since 6am for morning skate—and the last thing he needed was some girl he didn't even know making fun of him.
"i just think it's funny watching you do econ in an advanced french 2 class," the blonde shrugged lightly.
"it's not like i need to pay attention away. already know french."
emma blinked while the boy turned back to his laptop. why on earth was this kid in advanced french if he already knew french? "you already know french?"
"mhm. fluent in it, actually," gabe's cocky smile almost made emma wanna slap it off him.
"then why are you taking french if you already know it?"
"because i can and i want to. i think it's funny. do you know french already?" there went that stupid eyebrow raise again when gabe looked at her.
"i do, yes," emma mumbled.
"so why are you taking french if you already know it?" his little head tilt and stupid smirk didn't sit well with the girl. she didn't have time to respond though because the professor walked past their section again, eyes probably trying to find the culprits who were talking in class.
"see? didn't have to help me that time," god, he was insufferable already. maybe emma shouldn't have started interacting with him. life 10 minutes ago was a lot better than life now.
"don't you have time to do all this work later?" she didn't know what possessed her to keep talking, but something about this boy intrigued her as much as he frustrated her.
"not really, no. early morning skate then actual practice right after class. by that time it's late and i'm lazy," gabe shrugged and it all finally clicked for emma.
he was a hockey player. made sense now. no wonder why he never paid attention in class.
"don't you like get banned from playing if you don't keep up with your work?" emma didn't know that much about how sports worked here, but she knew if her brother didn't keep up with his classes, he couldn't swim.
"i keep up with my work, don't worry," gabe snipped a bit. this time emma raised her own eyebrow while trying to keep in another pitiful laugh.
"mhm, sure. tell that to your econ class."
the professor walked past their section again, definitely trying to catch emma and gabe whispering. the two watched her stalk by before heading towards the front again. the blonde's eyes were on gabe's homework again, working through the problem in her mind. she immediately saw his issue—he had the wrong numbers on his graph which messed up his calculations. it was an easy fix.
"your numbers are wrong," again, despite the boy's annoying attitude, she was still feeling gracious. her curiosity about him was too high not to help.
"huh?"
"on your graph. it's supposed to be by .02. that's why you aren't getting the right answers," emma pointed out briefly.
gabe studied what she just said and looked back and forth between his numbers and graph, slowly realized she was in fact right. "oh," he mumbled.
"next time i won't help you," emma smirked.
"not like i asked for your help in the first place," the hockey player mumbled as he started redoing his entire graph with the right numbers.
the two didn't talk again until the last ten minutes of class. gabe was still furiously working away on his econ homework while emma took occasional glances in his direction. she thought he was stupid for waiting until last minute to finish it, especially in another class.
he nudged her leg first this time and her gaze snapped to his, "hey. what else you know about econ?"
he probably had about ten more problems left with no finish in sight anytime soon. emma stopped another pitiful laugh wanting to escape her lips.
"a decent amount. why?" the girl raised her eyebrow.
"probably a long shot, but any chance you could help me out later? i really gotta finish this assignment it's already two days late and if i don't, coach will pull me," gabe almost begged, but his pride and ego were too big for that.
the look on his face and big, puppy dog eyes were hard to say no to for emma despite everything in her telling her no. she'd feel bad if she didn't, especially when his mistakes were probably easy fixes. if only she wasn't so nice sometimes.
"i can give you my number and you can text me. i'll be in the library for a few hours after class," emma motioned for his phone.
"really? you'll actually help?" gabe seemed surprised she said yes.
"i feel like i don't have a choice, plus econ is easy for me. you probably have stupid mistakes that are easy fixes," she started punching her number into the boy's phone.
"how long will you be at the library for?"
"i don't know. until 6?" a good three hours seemed like enough time for emma to grind out her three page essay.
"shit, i have practice then. any chance we can meet at like..9? i know it's inconvenient, but i don't have any other time," he was such a hard no. even if emma didn't know him nor did she even really care for him, she felt bad not helping.
"9 works. just text me," the blonde nodded.
a genuine smile painted gabe's lips as well as a somewhat relieved look, "thanks so much. i really appreciate it. i'm gabe by the way."
"emma," the girl smiled back.
man, she should've said no. emma didn't think he was coming. it was 9:15—fifteen minutes late—and no text or anything. she left to her dorm two different times and there was still nothing from the the boy. the only people in the library at this hour were her and the few who just didn't have a social life and completely studied their asses off at any second they got.
in some ways, emma was that person just a bit more dialed down. at least she didn't spend hours in the library.
she checked her phone again and nothing. a sigh escaped her lips because she really thought gabe cared a little bit somewhere inside of him to not completely flake.
when all hope seemed lost quick footsteps came up behind emma's table and suddenly, gabe's frame was beside where she sat.
"i'm so, so sorry i'm late. practice ran over and then my friends had to talk to me for..i'm sorry," his apologize was unexpected, but appreciated. emma managed a small smile.
"really thought you'd flake on me," she laughed.
"i was gonna text, but then i forgot. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to waste your time," gabe rambled on as he sat down and dug his things back out.
his rambling actually made emma feel a little bad, especially because he looked so flustered like he ran all the way here from the rink. "it's fine. don't worry about it. i'm here all the time anyway," she shrugged him off to not make him feel as horrible.
"i respect the pjs," gabe commented on emma's flannel pj pants and boston college swimming sweatshirt that was definitely tyler's that she stole.
"oh, thanks. had to be comfortable, you know?" the blonde flushed some. gabe nodded in agreement.
"i did a few more problems, but i'm still kind of..lost, i guess. i dunno. i don't really know how what i'm doing wrong," he pushed his paper towards her feeling semi-embarrassed he couldn't do what should've been simple calculations and graphing.
"let me see," emma pulled the paper closer. she scanned her his work trying to find what the issue could be.
"hold on, i get it. you're not multiplying the right things which i think is giving you the wrong numbers. trying going row x row," emma instantly saw what was wrong.
gabe did as told and five minutes later, everything made a lot more sense than it did before.
"oh, i get it now. i was calculating wrong," he mumbled.
"see? easy fix. the other answers should make sense now," emma nodded, smiling.
"how are you so good at this? i feel like i'll never truly learn econ," gabe's gaze met hers again briefly before they both looked away.
"oh, i don't know. i've always been good at like math and stuff," doing math had always been emma's strong suit. growing up her friends always went to her when they were stuck on a problem.
"i wish i had that kind of talent. it's never made any sense to me," the boy mumbled, smiling successfully after completing all the other problems. "does this look right?"
emma glanced the page over, nodding, "yeah, looks good. the graphs are the hardest part i think because if you don't get those, everything's wrong."
"thanks, i appreciate the help. sorry again for being late," gabe met her gaze again—his eyes looked flushed and tired like he hardly ever slept. that feeling of pity returned in emma's stomach the longer she stared at him.
"it's no problem, really," her lips pushed together into a small smile.
"do you think i could text you again whenever i need more help in the class?" the boy wondered as he packed his things back up.
emma studied him again. those books about the athlete looking for help from the smart, quiet girl was seeming a little too real at the moment. the look on gabe's face though said otherwise like he wasn't trying to mess with her. he looked genuinely interested in the help she could provide him.
"why don't we like meet every other day or something and i can like tutor you. maybe help you understand the class a bit better?" the girl suggested which honestly sounded crazy coming out of her mouth because did she really have time to be tutoring this hockey player? apparently.
"like for real?"
"yeah like for real," emma laughed.
the smile on gabe's lips reappeared when he realized emma wasn't joking with him, "o-okay. yeah, thanks. i'd appreciate that. is it okay if we meet at 9 then? i would do earlier but i like don't have time."
"yeah, 9 works."
"i promise i'll try not to be late, but i can't promise it," the two shared a laugh.
"don't worry about it. see you in class then?"
"yeah, see you," her and gabe left the table together, giving slightly awkward waves to one another as they went in different directions to leave.
it was safe to say both of them didn't stop thinking about the other all night.
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tikvin · 4 months
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Eshra's greetings and some banter
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-39—-20(negative)
"Out with it"
(sigh) "What?"
(tongue click) "And here I thought the day was going well"
-19—20(neutral)
(slight smile) "Yes?"
"You wish to chat?"
"You have my attention"
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21—40(medium)
"I am listening"
"You have something to say, yes?"
"How can I help, my dear?"
41—100 (high, exceptional)
"What is it, my dear?"
"Your secrets are safe with me"
"You look like you have a secret to share with me"
"What bothers you, friend?"
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Flirty:
"Well-well, haven't my day just got so much better"
"My attention is all yours, dear."
"Ah, I do like the sound of your voice, you know"
Romanced:
(leaning in slightly with a soft smile) "Hmmm?"
"My, oh my, remembered of little ol' me?"
"Got tired admiring me form afar, love?"
(raising an eyebrow with sly smile, she looks expectantly)
Romanced (rejected Bhaal) Will include all of regular romanced lines and additional:
"Since I stopped hearing the song of your blood, your voice got so much clearer, my love"
"To be free, to be loved, what more could one ask for? Well, to hear your lovely voice right about now, I suppose"
"My joy, my heart, what troubles you?"
"My darling, I am at your service" (bows jokingly)
Romanced (lost to Orin)
(looks a little lost) "Ah—? Oh. Yes. What is it?"
(in solemn tone) "Speak to me"
(agitated) "What!?" (snaps out of it) "No— not like that— I'm sorry, haven't got much sleep lately. Did you want something?"
Romanced (accepted Bhaal)
"My most beloved victim"
"Oh how I crave to crawl under your very skin"
"I hear the song your blood sings for me so clear. Beautiful."
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Banters:
Considering Eshra is more observing than prying type, I don't think she would initiate them much herself. Except maybe environmental ones and a bit of flirting here and there. I have just a few so far.
(Shadowheart/Eshra)
— "Do you dye your hair, Eshra?"
— "Hm? What makes you think so?"
— "I mean, isn't drow hair usually white or blond?"
— "Why, thank you for calling me special, my dear"
— "That's not— Nevermind"
(Eshra/Wyll/Gale. Underdark, after Eshra's amnesia revealed. Requires fighting at least 2 drow enemies, Minthara included)
— "Say, is drow hierarchy really as ruthless and strict as it is described in tomes about Underdark??" (G)
— "Gale, dear, I have no idea. Although the drow we encountered so far left only a bad taste in my mouth"
— "Afraid that you too did something cruel in your past?" (W)
— "Concerned I was a snobbish insufferable brat"
(Eshra/Tav Temple of Jergal or any temple ruins)
— "This feels familiar... somehow"
— "Hm? Were you a church worker?"
— "Of sorts, I think..."
(Lae'Zel/Karlach/Eshra on the elevator thingy on the way to monastery)
— "What a sight. We should stop for a nice little lunch, take it all in." (K)
— "Is the worm gnawing at your grey matter? We must find a crèche and be purified." (L)
— "Lae'Zel is right... A lunch after being freed from our wrigglers would be much sweeter, don't you think?" (E)
— "Chk. You're both are way too frivolous." (L)
(Minthara/Eshra shadow cursed land. Requires Eshra being recruited before meeting Minthara in act1)
— "So, my suspicions were correct."
— (sigh) "What are you talking about?"
— "The moment we met. I thought something isn't right about you. You look like a drow, but you're most certainly not one. So what are you, iblith?"
— "Careful, Minthara, don't make me regret not slitting your throat in that goblin camp, the moment our dear leader looked away."
— "You would've died in attempt."
That it for now! Will post more banters some time later.
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jaebeomsbitch · 1 year
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Out Of Control (R.R.)
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Summary: After years of working for Roman you're finally fed up by the late night calls and verbal abuse. You put Roman in his rightful place.
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, humiliation kink, degradation, verbal abuse, dryhumping,
A/N: The stills of Kieran innocently looking up in the actors on actors really wrote this
You were Roman’s first personal assistant. He usually chose to run by himself whereas his siblings had their assistants two steps behind them. He’d joke that they were corporate slaves and you were lucky to be working under him with that knowing smirk on his face. He had a certain aversion to you, something about your presence rubbed him the wrong way. You couldn’t stand him either, always telling yourself it was only temporary while you paid off your loans. Only a year until you finish, you promised yourself. 
Only one more year of being antagonized by Roman. He has this annoying habit of calling you at two or three in the morning, demanding you hand deliver some documents to his penthouse. He threatens to fire you if you don’t comply. Only one more year… twelve more months with that insufferable bastard. You stomp toward the elevator, giving the doorman a nod. He’s all too used to seeing you come in pissed off, steam practically blowing out of your ears. As the door dings open you try to remind yourself to keep calm. Don’t snap at him, he’d probably find pleasure in it. 
“God no, they’re soulless. I think every time they're on their phone they’re spilling company secrets. Shut the fuck up, no- No. Let me fucking talk Jesus christ. I don’t fucking– Fuck you!” he hangs up his phone call, startled seeing you at the entrance. He motions for you to come in, doesn’t even bother to greet you. You huff, handing him the documents then turning away, prepared to leave. 
“Wait,” He says, hand up in the air. You can’t help but roll your eyes, god even his voice was annoying. It was like nails on a chalkboard. 
“Yes?” You respond, voice a little more aggressively than you liked. You wanted to appear collected in front of Roman. Knowing he’d use your weaknesses against you. 
“These are the wrong documents, I asked for 12-15. This– you’re fucking kidding me right?” He scoffs, his anger seeping through the room. 
“Okay,” You nod stiffly, he definitely didn’t ask for twelve through fifteen but you knew how he operated. He’d always try to push your buttons, ask for one thing and then demanding the other. You learned to keep a copy of anything that’s relevant to him at the time. You look through your bag, pulling out the new documents. 
“I also need the documents for the LA contract,” He says, knowing you won’t have those. He hasn’t dealt with the LA branch in almost a year. 
“Right now?” You ask, already knowing how he’s gonna reply. 
“No fuckin’ tomorrow, yes right now. I can’t sit around and wait for you,” He sneers, a facial expression you’re all too familiar with. 
“Give me an hour, need any other document?” You hold your tongue.  
“An hour! What type of assistant are you? Jess would’ve had those documents prepared yesterday. You’re fuckin’ useless, maybe I should fire you,” He taunts, his finger pointed at you. 
“You know what, fuck this! I fucking quit asshole,” You yell at him. Finally at your breaking point, the late night calls, the beratings, the sexual remarks all too much. His eyes widen, not expecting you to snap. You’re always so calm and collected it honestly scared him. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, unable to mask his true feelings. 
“Yeah good riddance,” He gives you a half wave, not looking at you. He pretends to study the documents you handed him, he tries to keep his fear down. Another person in his life gone. 
“No- that’s not how this is gonna work,” You enunciate every word, your anger pushing you forward. The years of holding in your pent up emotions finally spilling out. 
“You’re a selfish fucking brat, you call me at three in the fucking morning for documents I know you won’t fucking read because you’ll make me read them for you. You’re a fucking piece of shit Roman– Worse. You’re worse than a piece of shit, I think somewhere deep down inside you know you’re nothing. You’re just the cowardly little boy of a billionaire. If only another fucking sperm won huh? Maybe they’d be more fucking competent than you,” You deride. 
He looks at you mouth wide open, he’d only ever been spoken to like this by one other person. However, you were more vile and a whole lot less controlled. He notices the way you shake in anger, shit… why was this kind of hot? He clears his throat, trying to drop the documents in his hand on his lap inconspicuously.
“You’re fired, you can leave,” He tries to say in an even tone but his voice cracks a little. You take your time to study him, “No– I’ve taken and taken verbal abuse from you for fucking years now. The least you can do is the same. I’m fired anyway right? Call your security if you’re so scared,” you mock. 
“You are the worst type of human, Roman, for someone who talks about his dick all day he can’t fucking use it. I’ve heard the countless stories of scared little Roman pushing women off of him. If you can’t get hard then maybe stop fucking talking to me about your dick. God even your fucking cock is useless just like you,” You sigh, throwing your hands in the air in frustration. 
“You seem a little obsessed with my cock for someone who doesn’t want to hear about it,” He chuckles to himself. 
“Do you think I’m stupid or that I haven’t noticed? Take the fucking papers off your lap Roman,” You gibe. 
“Is this what you like? Can’t fuck your girlfriends because they don’t tell you how fucking disgusting you are? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man,” You take a few steps closer, hovering above him, your breath coming out in puffs. He sits there dumbfounded, at your confidence. You are right, he’s painfully hard under the papers, precum already spilling in his underwear. You forcefully take the documents out of his hand, throwing them on the table. 
“You like being reminded how you mean nothing to the world? If I killed you right now, you wouldn’t even make an ATN headline,” You snarl, pushing his shoulder into the seat. He pants, unable to form sentences, random syllables spilling out, he seems like he's under a spell. 
“God, what if someone found out hmm? They figured out how the ‘illusive’ Roman Roy likes to be pushed around in bed? That his little dick gets hard at people degrading him?” You push your fingers into his chest. His eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, breath rushing out. 
“Get on the floor,” You command, walking over to sit on his couch. He sits there dumbfounded for a second, blinking in confusion. 
“Are you fucking stupid? Get on the floor right now Roman,” you say more forcefully. He slowly climbs out of the seat, sitting on his knees. He looks down, embarrassed but he can’t fight your command, your voice has him under some sorcery. That familiar cadence in your voice brings him something he craved. 
“Crawl to me, like the disgusting fucking dog you are,” You order, crossing one leg over the other. There is a certain pleasure in watching your annoying boss crawl to you on all fours. His head unable to look up at you as he crowds your leg. He hangs his head in shame, his humiliation seeping in as his cock presses against the zipper on his slacks. He can’t help but shudder at the feeling. 
“Is this what you wanted, hmm?” You say sarcastically. 
“You acted like a spoiled fucking brat so I can treat you like this? If you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked, like a big boy. So tell me, is this what you wanted?” You ridicule. He can’t look up at you, the words stuck in his throat. It feels like he has honey in his mouth. 
“For someone so chatty you sure are quiet now,” You roll your eyes, uncrossing your legs, and leaning forward. You grab his chin in your hand, forcefully pulling him to look at you. His big hazel eyes are watery, he almost looks innocent, but you remember all those times he’s called you nasty names, all his insults. 
“Answer me moron,” You bare your teeth, face centimeters from his. 
“Y-yes,” He sighs, finally maintaining eye contact. 
“‘Yes’ Yes what?” You mock him. 
“Yes, I-I called you here to make you mad,” He admits, his eyebrows furrowing making his face look somehow even more innocent. 
“What did you want to happen Romulus?” You use his full-name knowing it’s only reserved for when his father is really mad at him. It feels foreign in your mouth and yet perfect. You feel powerful as he shivers under your piercing gaze. 
“I- d’know,” He slurs his words, trying to look away from you. His embarrassment hanging heavy as your prod. He truly didn’t know what he wanted… He just wanted to be dominated. You seemed like the perfect person. You were cool and collected with a sea of rage hiding underneath the surface. He was attracted to you the first time he saw you working for Kendall. Something about stealing his brother’s prized possession felt good.
You slip off your shoe, putting it on his couch not caring if it stains it. You press the bottom of your sole to his chest, pushing him deeper onto his knees until his ass hits the floor. 
“God you’re pathetic,” You scoff, looking at his big hazel eyes. You run your foot down his chest, he looks down following your path, you drop it to the bulge in his pants, lightly pressing against it. His breath quickens, eyes closing shut as you start moving your foot back and forth. He tries to ground himself, grabbing onto your calf, his nails digging into your skin. 
“Who said disgusting pieces of shit like you are allowed to touch me?” You push his hands away from you, his eyes opening. 
“Now, what do you want?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest, your foot stops, giving him a chance to think. His mouth opens and closes. 
“I- I– I–” he can’t form a full sentence as you start rubbing him through his slacks again. 
“ ‘I- I–’ Look at you, you’re all stupid already. Your underwear must be a mess, huh? Fucking useless pervert,” You smirk, enjoying the huffs of his breath filling the room. His hands twitching at his side, his cock throbbing at your words, he lets out a little sound. 
“What’s wrong? Already gonna cum? Gonna ruin your pants before you’ve even got your cock in me?” His hands grip the sides of his pants, his hips following your foot. He mewls when you stop, you drop your foot in between his thighs. 
“Be a good pup and get yourself off,” You command. He looks at you a little lost but scoots closer, he takes a tentative buck against your leg. He tilts his head back, eyes shutting at the friction, he can’t help but moan.. 
“Look at you, what would your dad think? What would think seeing his pathetic son humping his assitant’s leg like a fucking dog,” You say. 
“Ye- Yes, be so disappointed,” He moans, he bucks his hips faster, losing himself in the feeling.
“Look at you humping my leg like a bitch in heat. You’re fucking pathetic, you disgust me,” You snarl and it pushes him over the edge. His hips twitch, he bites down on your knee, his cum leaking all over his underwear, as he gasps trying to catch his breath, practically slobbering on your knee and inner thigh. 
“C’mon,” You pull him up by his armpit onto the couch. He’s shaking, this all was too much, his feelings overflowing. 
“Shh.. it’s okay,” You pull him close, rubbing his back as his emotions crash over him like a wave. He rocks himself back and forth in your arms as you soothe him, you pull him onto your lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent until he’s calmed down. Isn’t this a bitch? You have to calm him down. You’d feel much differently if this was a scene and he was your sub but he decided to take the difficult route.
“You okay?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. He doesn’t know what to say, he needed the release, craved it but now that it’s over he’s left with that hole in his heart again. If only you both were different. If you weren’t his assistant and he wasn’t an asshole. 
“Yeah, I’m good. So good,” He scoffs, removing himself from your lap. He doesn’t look at you, walking into his bedroom and changing. After about twenty minutes of waiting you decide to leave, clearly he wasn’t emotionally mature to talk about whatever happened between the two of you. 
To your surprise you get a phone call in the morning, “Where the fuck are you, god you’re so incompetent!” Roman grumbles on the line. His words have no bite now that you know how to put him in his place. 
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Text
Somebody I Used to Know
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Abby Anderson X Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: smut, trauma, implied PTSD
Friends to Enemies to Lovers Arc
A/n: did this turn out three times longer than I meant it to be? Yes. Is it edited? Barely. Enjoy!
It had been years now since Salt Lake, but some things hadn’t changed.
Abby still avoided you in the halls, had you assigned to patrols she didn’t want to go on, glared you down in the canteen as you made your way to their table. Having a sworn enemy is hard when you share the same friend group.
You had been thick as thieves growing up. Abby’s dad had become yours when you turned up at the hospital running from a group of bad guys that had managed to kill your parents before you slipped away. You had begun to show signs of starvation, bloody and bruised, clutching a large knife with both hands as soldiers had to subdue you to get you inside.
When you woke up, she was there: changing the wash cloth on your head, all but forcing a glass of water down you as they tried to break your fever. Inseparable since that moment, you did everything together. You found his body together.
She wouldn’t let you go when they dragged you out of the room and onto a truck. Sobbing, pounding her fists into your back as you helped them drag her away.
In the back of the truck, red rimmed eyes and a firm scowl, she looked up at you.
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to make him pay.” Your throat constricted, chest burned, and all you could do was nod and clutch her tightly to your chest.
It was a few days later when she brought it up again. Laying in sleeping bags on a hard concrete floor, she rolled over to you.
“Y/N, you awake?” You rolled over to face her, barely illuminated by the moonlight breaking through the rotting roof panels. “I was serious. I’m going to track him down, and I’m going to kill him. You’ll come with me, right?”
“Abby, I miss him so much.” Tears filled your eyes, tipping over the edge and trailing at an awkward angle down your face. “I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t think he would want that for you…” she rolled over in her bag before you could finish, face hardened.
“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”
She didn’t talk to you again, betrayed by her closest confidant. How could you not see that this was her only option? Her only way to heal, to honour him?
For the first year, you approached her in the halls, included her in conversation, and was always met with cold silence and a flat glare. She slipped even further away when she started dating Owen. You had always known they would end up together at some point, but you couldn’t have imagined how insufferable he would become when they did.
Every opportunity he had his hands on her, poking and teasing, whispering in her ear. You watched as she swooned and giggled like a little girl, turning away from the sight and doing your best to ignore them. The resentment grew. It wasn’t just him anymore, it was her too. She had replaced you, with him.
Then came the Bonfire Incident (as it was known in the group). You had been buzzing about it for a month. Isaac had finally given the go ahead for a small celebration for the patrol squads after the new territory was secured. You would christen the new ground with a good ol’ fashioned bonfire, complete with barbecue and bootleg liquor.
The best part, Lexi was going. You had a small crush on her, and had heard through a mutual friend that she thought you were pretty. You had high hopes. All hopes were confirmed when she dragged you off to a dark section of trees, toting a bottle of smuggled whiskey she found on patrol. You drank, flirted and eventually, she had you pinned against a tree, tongue in your mouth and a hand down your pants.
“Fuck, yes, there.” You panted, leaning your head back against the tree as she dug two fingers into just the right spot and ground the heel of her hand against your throbbing clit. “Shit, so close.” Her lips dragged across your collarbone, and up your neck. A rustle caught your attention, and you tipped your head to the side, catching Abby sneaking between the trees. She stopped, holding your eye contact, expression switching quickly from caught to determined. Her jaw tightened and twitched, thick arms folding across her chest as she watched the scene unfold.
You held her gaze, letting out one final moan as you contracted around Lexi’s fingers, cumming so hard it took your breath away and made your toes tingle. Abby never looked away. Lexi moaned into your neck.
“So fuckin tight, doll. Bet you taste as sweet as you sound.” You looked around as she gently pulled her fingers from you, leaving you empty and pulsing. She brought her fingers up to your mouth, and your jaw dropped open. She placed them gently on your tongue, and you lapped up your own juices. “You’re so fucking hot.” She pulled her fingers away and pressed a quick hot kiss to your lips.
“What do you say we finish this later?” You asked, pulling away.
“Whatever you say, hun. You coming?” She pulled the whiskey back up to her lips, taking a swig.
“Just gonna straighten myself out.” Lexi winked, walking away. Once she was far enough, you turned to face Abby still leaning against the tree.
Abby stepped back out from the tree she had taken cover behind.
“The fuck was that?”
“Aw, Abby, Owen not taking care of you?” Abby let out a mocking laugh.
“I meant your choice in partner. Seriously? Lexi?”
“What’s wrong with Lexi?” You defended, folding your own arms over your chest.
“Nothing, nothing.” Abby held her hands up. “Just thought you had better taste than that.”
“Since when did my taste in women have anything to do with you, Anderson? Especially considering your own clear lack of judgement.” Abby’s face hardened.
“Fuck you.”
“You wish you could, Anderson. I’m just not sure you could keep up.” You pushed off the tree, reaching down to zip up your pants as you stalked back to the fire, leaving her in the dark.
You only found out the next morning that Owen had broken things off three days prior.
You felt awful, but pushed it down. She had spent the past couple years treating you like shit, and the one time you returned the favour, you suddenly felt guilty?
You shook it off, and returned to the normal routine. Until today.
You headed to the armoury, opening your locker and pulling out a slightly battered sniper rifle, a 9mm, and restocking your pockets with ammo. Pulling on your pack, you headed out back and hopped onto your assigned truck. You pulled a small book out your sack, and waited as everyone got loaded on.
It was tradition by now, everyone had learned you didn’t partake in the pre-shit show banter and chatter. You read, you shot, and then you chilled.
“The fuck is this?” You didn’t look up when you heard her voice. “No, Manny she shouldn’t be here.” You heard shuffling as Manny pulled Abby aside and talked her down. A couple minutes later she hopped onto the back of the truck and sat as far down the bench as possible.
“Apparently I’m covering your ass today.” Abby grunted, and you flipped to the next page. Tony chuffed, and looked over at Abby.
“She doesn’t talk before runs. Or during actually.”
“The fuck…” You tuned out Abby grumbling, zoning into your book until you felt Manny clap you on the shoulder.
“It’s time.” You nodded, stowing your book and standing. You followed him into the building, ignoring the gunshots that covered your entrance. You made your way to rooftop, Abby moving silently in your wake. Busting the door open, you quickly made your way to the edge, and began setting up the rifle. Abby stuck by the door, and you let out a chuff of your own.
“Heights.” You remembered. “Are you going to be able to do this?” You called to her.
“I’m fine. Worry about yourself.” Abby turns her back, focusing on the doorway.
Half an hour later and the street below was littered with corpses of runners and Scars alike. The Scars had come first, pushed out of hiding by the runners, all part of Isaac’s brilliant plan. The silencer on sniper mostly concealed your location, Abby had been stationed just incase any managed to slip through the building clearing or the first defence line. You had spent the whole time with your eye to the scope, all other sounds or distractions tuned out.
“All clear, fuck!” Manny came to a halt at the doorway. You hauled yourself up from the ground, disassembling the rifle, and packing it back up. You turned to see the pile of bodies Abby had left. Three scar, one much larger than the others, and five clickers. Abby was sat leaning against an air duct, rewrapping the bandages around her knuckles and wrist, a deep gouge oozing blood down the left side of her face.
“You’re welcome.” She grunts in your direction, standing and grabbing her rucksack.
“Thanks.” You returned, straight faced.
Abby stares at you for a moment, then laughs and stalks away. Manny looks between you, before following Abby.
The truck was silent on the ride back, two people lighter than on the way out. You sat, staring at the floor, ignoring Abby’s eyes on you. She had seen it when she got to the ground floor. The devastation you had left in your wake. At least four times the amount of her own kills. You had seen the way she looked at you as you got onto the truck. She hadn’t realised what living at WLF had turned you into, she hadn’t been paying attention. She’d never seen the look in your eyes after a run, hollow and empty. Hadn’t thought about why you didn’t want to talk about what went down on runs with the group, why everyone but your friend group tended to eye you as you walked down the halls. They’d fashioned you into a killer, and stollen the light that used to shine in your eyes. They’d done the same thing to her.
The showers were running hot that day, the fog they created obscuring her vision slightly as she watched you. You stood under the hot water, head tipped back, eyes shut as tears camouflaged with the water. Behind you eyes, a movie of your killing spree played out like pantomime. You saw each of them go down, saw their lives up until that point play out until the moment your bullet found them. Then you scrubbed it all away, and drifted back to your room with raw skin, and blurry eyes.
The knock came not long after.
“I know you probably don’t want to talk, but…please let me in.” You paused, hand over the handle, before you opened the door and walked away. You sat on the small couch and gestured to the coffee table. Abby sat, legs spread wide, leaning forward on her knees.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, and you pulled your knees to your chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable in your pj shorts and sports bra. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I’m sorry for leaving you alone, I’m sorry for putting you on the shit patrol runs. I’m sorry for everything, fuck, Y/N.” She runs her hands over her face, finally looking up to see your vacant eyes staring back. “I’m sorry for scaring all those girls off when they tried to talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. All of it, I fucked it all up… Somewhere in her rambling, your eyes hardened, became piercing. She watched you reassemble yourself, piece by piece, shut down and toughen into something else.
“You should go.” You cut her off. Her breath caught, noticed the way your fingers tightened around your calves, your breath became stilted. Suddenly you shot off the couch, moving towards the door. “Get out. Now!” You were on the edge, about to slip and the last thing you needed was Abby fucking Anderson witnessing you crumble. She stood, walking over to you. A breath wheezed in your chest, hands shaking, you recoiled away from her.
“Y/n…”
“Please. Leave.” The gasp that left you seemed to puncture the bubble around you, as your knees gave way and she caught you. She shoved the door closed, and pulled you into her lap, feeling you shake and gasp. Her arms coiled around your back, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your spine, letting you bury your head in her shoulder. “I hate you.” You whimpered into her, arms in a vice grip around her shoulders, nails digging into her shoulder blades.
“I know, I don’t blame you.” She sighs, pushing her head into your neck, rocking you back and forth. Slowly, your breathing returned to normal, body becoming limp. You pulled back, moving a hand to the side of her face as you looked down into big blue eyes almost as wet as your own.
“Don’t leave me again.”
“Never.” Abby sucked in a quick breath before pushing her lips to yours. It was gentle, tender as she waited to see how you reacted. She expected a slap, for you to crawl away, hurl the lamp at her. Instead you pressed yourself closer, hand moving to the back of her neck, tilting her head up and slanting so you fit together perfectly.
It got messy quickly, panted breaths and wet tongues. Somewhere between kisses her hands dropped to your hips, gripping and pulling. She groaned when she felt your hips roll against her, bucking up to press closer. The second time she did it, you let out a whimper that almost made her heart stop.
“Fuck, you make such pretty sounds.” She groaned, dropping her lips to your neck, down to your collar bone. You pulled back, tugging off the sports bra, and watching as she quickly wrapped her lips around a nipple. A hazy mix of tongue and teeth had your eyes rolling back.
“I want you so bad.”
“You’ve got me, I’m right here.” Abby shifted, laying you gently on the floor and trailing hot lips down your torso. She had your pjs and panties pulled down around your ankles before you could process the cold air that goose bumped your skin. She pushed your knees apart and up, latching to the soft skin of your inner thigh, teasing her tongue around the very edges of you. She teased until your hips were bucking up and your groans turned to whimpers before she ran her tongue over you.
“Fuck, you do taste sweet.” She groaned, delving back in to part your lips with her tongue before wrapping around your clit, licking and sucking until you were keening and begging for more. She teased a finger at your entrance, feeling the way you tried to suck her in, looking up to see watery eyes looking back at her. As your mouth parted to beg, she slipped a finger in gently, your head dropped back and hands shot to her head.
With hands full of her braid you pulled her closer, feeling her finger curl inside you, triggering a pulse so tight it rippled up through your abdomen. Her finger moved gently as she sucked your clit harshly into her mouth, flicking her tongue over the sensitive bud until your whimpers turned back into full out moans.
“So close, Abs.” You cried, hips wriggling as you tried to find the right spot to tip you over the edge. Abby slipped another finger inside, curling up again and speeding up slightly. She flattened her tongue, and the added pressure launched you over. “Fuck!” Your back arched almost painfully as your legs shook beside her head, she slowed, letting you ride out your high, hips jolting slightly.
Once she was sure you were done, she gently eased out and away from you, running her hands up your sides, and picking you up from the hard floor. She cradled you in her arms, placing a kiss on your forehead before settling you on your bed.
You were still floating as she tucked you under the covers, pulling her pants off and getting in beside you. She pulled you to her, and you nuzzled into her chest.
“I’m never leaving you again.” She placed another tender kiss onto your hairline, stoking your hair as you drifted off to sleep, a soft smile curling your lips.
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