#I was so close to getting under 100 last year and I started at a heavier weight I just have to keep it up the rest of the semester | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghouldump · 4 months ago

Note

Your lestat x louis x claudia fic EATSSSSSSSS

If your are up to it could you do something with my pretty husband armand and his manipulative ways?

Beautiful Deception | Armand x Reader

ෆ moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

lol thank youuu so much, i hope you like this 💕 sometimes i take a while to post because i rewrite my work over and over until i think it’s good. this was a great idea and i don’t mind taking more.

“How long will you continue to claim that you are a vampire?” The interviewer, Daniel Malloy asked. Crossing your leg over the other, you smiled.

“It is merely one of many truths, but I will let you and the readers decide if it should be accepted,” you said.

It had been nearly a year since you turned 100. Since you made the blog, originally to share stories from your past. Despite all events being true, and the website becoming a success, it was all seen as fiction. You were seen as a character, an upcoming writer dedicated to your role, but it would be coming to an end. Daniel, someone you’d been studying for some time now, needed a story, something fresh. He was getting the raw unspoken truth, things you hadn’t shared before, publishing it along with an interview.

“Why now?”

“Why not now, Daniel? We live in a new age, where we people of the night should be known,” you smirked.

Just then, the door opened, and Armand, your partner of over 80 years entered. The sleek black turtle neck was perfect against his glowing brown skin. Turning to him, you looked up in admiration, as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, before sitting next to you.

“I hope you don't mind, my husband, Armand, joining us”

“Armand the vampire? You said some concerning things about him,” Daniel said, trying to get under both of your skin.

“We’ve moved past those times,” you said, as Armand intertwined your fingers.

“Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, shall we start?”

“Yes, let’s,” you smiled, nodding.

“Let’s start here…”

Run, run, don’t stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you’d drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

“Sir,” you called out, as you jogged to him.

“No, no, I’m closing,” he pointed at the sign.

“Please help me, he’s going to get me,” you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

“Come in,” he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping in glass.

“We have to hide,” you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

“You go,” he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes softened seeing your tear stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

“Please….”

“You’re moving ahead of yourself, Daniel, we have to start from the beginning, I had just moved to France-

“So Armand didn’t kill the shop owner and was about to kill you next?” He asked, as Armand clenched his jaw, glaring at the man.

“Daniel, you only get one session, you have to get this right, just let the story seduce you as it had done to me,” you said as he begrudgingly nodded, finally ready to listen.

"Here are your keys, rent is due on the third of each month," your new landlord, Henri said, handing the keys to your husband, Phillip.

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, while you giggled, your eyes exploring the place. Neither of you was the best at French, at least speaking it. Despite the previous months of studying and reciting, your articulation was still overwhelmingly, American.

He didn't say anything, giving you both a questionable stare, before leaving the small apartment. Compacted in size, and already cluttered with furniture, but it was your new home, and that's all that mattered. Shutting the front door, you walked over to the full-sized bed. This was the fresh start you needed.

“What do you think?” Philip asked.

“I love it,” you told him, jumping into his arms.

Living all of your life in the States, you were the youngest of two children. Your father, you never knew, not that it mattered too much to you. It was your mother who came from a wealthy family in France. Before she decided to move to its child, New Orleans.

She didn't talk about her time there much, only telling short stories about your grandparents or her early life in Paris. She was lonely as a child, and her parents were oftentimes neglectful, as a result of having her at an old age.

Having her own children, you and your twin brother, Elijah, from a hookup with an attractive soldier, she vowed to dedicate herself to both of you. She made sure neither of you ever went without, providing the best of your desires.

Around 9, you were certain you wanted to be a performer. It didn't matter how or what you did, the idea of being adored, captivating the crowd, your juvenile mind was set. Your mother soon paid for all sorts of lessons, dancing, singing, and instruments, she was just as determined that you would achieve your dreams.

While you were striving for your goals, your brother, Elijah, struggled with living in your shadow. You took up most of your mother's time, which is how she didn't notice the bullying. He had always been introverted, harmless as a butterfly, nose deep in a book. While you were holding onto hopes and dreams, your brother was guaranteed a successful life with how smart he’d always been.

However, there was a problem, jealousy. She was a demon, stronger than most, willing to compel whoever that would allow, to do whatever their deepest desires were. This is why, on that Saturday evening, on your 14th birthday, you and your mother left for the market, intending on baking a cake for the two of you, she attacked.

Bullies from his class saw him as he was taking out the trash. They never liked the boy, coveting the lifestyle he had been fortunately given. Attacking him, they only meant to roughen him up a bit, until he fought back. Then, filled with that ancient spirit of jealousy, one of them picked up a rock.

Thankfully, one of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running to save him, but the damage had been done. From that point on, your brother was different, as was your mother.

The life that he was once guaranteed to have was gone and your mother spent all of her time focused on caring for him. She still paid for your classes, but you were no longer a priority.

At 18, you met and eventually married Philip, a 22-year-old, journalist. He was very handsome with the most alluring brown eyes and soft wavy hair. He didn't have much money, but once he settled somewhere and established his career, he promised to give you the world.

Your mother disapproved of the marriage, how could you carelessly marry a poor man trusting his empty promises, she screamed at you. Which is why, out of spite, you told her you’d be moving to Paris. You watched as the hardened expression dropped, and sad memories flashed through her eyes. Throwing her hands up, she gave up with her argument, letting you leave, sending a parting gift of a few thousand dollars, before you were out of the country.

Now in the beautiful city, Phillip’s future seemed to be already looking up to be just as bright, as he had already been hired by a popular news corporation. Securing the apartment was simply the final step in your new life, at least that's what you thought.

Immediately, Philip worked day and night, hoping to begin to provide you with the life you deserved. Dates weren't as frequent as they once were in the States, but intimacy was just as regular as before, if not more.

Meanwhile, you oftentimes left home, looking for work. Not many places would hire women and the people who did expected their workers to work twice as much as they were paid. Until The Grand Cabaret, Edward, the head director of the restaurant/theatre was in dire need of new performances.

He'd stopped you on your way home from the store, captivated by your looks, giving you his card. Telling Phillip about the man, he agreed that it could be a good idea. Perhaps even a step towards becoming the big star you always wanted to be.

The next night you went, Philip was going to be out a little later than usual, finishing work. Anxiously, you made your way to the address on the card. Stopping in front of the building, you were surprised by the lack of guests. The establishment was nice, a few people were seated eating, and slow music was playing, but people continued to walk past.

“Ah, mademoiselle,” Edward smiled, as he stepped out.

“Not a busy night?” you asked him.

“People are more willing to eat with an equally lovely performance,” he said sheepishly, his eyes shifting to his left.

Following his eyes, you stared at the theater, Théâtre des Vampires. You could see the line of customers, excited to get into the theater. Although, the workers looked extremely rude and intimidating, dressed in the vampire costumes.

“I’m sure you just need the right act,” you told him, making eye contact with security, catching his brash expression.

“Do you sing or dance…?” He asked, waiting to hear your name.

“Y/n, and yes, I’ve been trained in both, I will admit, I am still not the greatest singer,” you laughed, as you accepted his hand.

“Please allow me to offer you a job here, as one of our employees. I trust your word, I am desperate, you’ll be paid weekly-

“I-when would I start?”

“Tonight…I mean, if it is possible,” he said.

“I can only stay for a while, my husband isn’t aware that I am away”

“Yes, of course, come right this way,” he said, leading you to the dressing room, allowing you to set your things down.

The cast members were all kind, introducing themselves as you glanced at yourself, checking your makeup.

“We have our newest act of the evening, the lovely and beautiful, Y/n,” Edward said, introducing you, before leaving the stage. He could already see the attention shifting to you, excitedly he opened the door, along with the windows, allowing potential guests to see.

“Just follow my lead,” you spoke to the small orchestra before you began singing a song you’d heard back when you lived with your mother. As the audience grew more interested, you felt your confidence rising by the second, as you danced freely, shutting your eyes, thrilled to finally be performing.

That night, for the first time, The Grand Cabaret was a full house. Everyone who passed wanted to see and hear more of your talent. As everyone clapped for you, and you could see now, you would be a star.

“What is the meaning of this?” Santiago frowned at Sam, wondering why he hadn’t been notified about any signaling of the play starting.

“Well…” Sam faced their leader, who stood, waiting for an answer.

“They’ve all gone to that stupid cabaret,” Estelle crossed her arms.

“Cabaret?”

“Apparently there is a new girl, American, she’s bringing them a bit of attention with her…performances,” Celeste told him.

Not saying a word, Armand furrowed his eyebrows, leaving the theater. His steps held a steady stride as he approached the building. Never since the theater had been opened had the place been empty. He had to see with his own eyes, this person, what had you done to take all of the loyal guests.

As he approached the entrance, the first thing he noticed was everyone wearing all black. The Dance of the Dead, starring the beautiful lead, Y/n,” his eyes skimmed the sign.

“Excuse me,” you said, brushing past Armand, and nearly running to the dressing room.

It had been a little over a month since you began working and although at first anxious, you were more than grateful for the opportunity. Edward was incredibly generous, wanting to keep his main act satisfied. You began to recommend themes, scenery, and new music, the guest needed to be able to visualize the show further than what you were giving.

The Dance of the Dead was a mockery of the vampire theater but with your own twist. A few people you'd grown familiar with had gone, telling you about how real everything seemed. How they’d managed to pull off some sort of screenplay, like movies. You never took the time to visit yourself, but saw the action as simply a little fun competition.

As the lights dimmed, Armand sat down, unintentionally gulping as you sauntered onto the stage. Immediately, the music started, along with your dancing. Armand watched as everyone focused, hypnotized as you were oozing in sex appeal. He nearly second-guessed himself about you, it shouldn't be possible for a mortal to captivate so many people in such a way, Armand thought to himself.

Going to your knees, as your head went back, he couldn’t help but think of how supernatural your beauty was, how luring your essence was. Going further to the floor, you faced the audience, your eyes meeting his. He smirked slightly, nodding at you, while you bit your lips.

As the song came to an end, you stood up, bowing your head. The audience cheered loudly, clapping and whistling.

‘Beautiful’ you heard, your eyes going to Armand, as he stood up.

“Thank you,” you blew kisses at the crowd, before going backstage.

He watched in amazement as they still cheered for you, the way that you moved ingrained into his thoughts. Coming from the dressing room, you looked almost different, blending in with the audience. He walked to the door, as you talked with your boss, accepting the envelope, along with a quick hug.

Moving outside, he stayed not too far behind you. Seeing that no one was around, he sped up, intentionally bumping into you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, as his hand brushed against your waist.

“No, it is my apologies, I may be mistaken, but do you work at the Cabaret?”

“Yes, I do,” he watched as your eyes twinkled with joy.

“I’m Armand, I am the director of Théâtre des Vampires,” he held out his hand.

“Y/n,” you went to shake his hand but froze as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

“I…I have to get home, my husband is waiting,” you told him, emphasizing the title, as he stared into your eyes. You couldn't deny the mysterious man was quite the sight.

“Allow me to walk you home,” he offered.

“Oh no, I wouldn't want to take up your time-

“Nonsense, a woman of your caliber should be escorted, perhaps we could talk business,” he said, making you smile.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to lead the way.

Armand was unnaturally enchanting in every aspect, a forbidden fruit your heart told you to stay away from, but your flesh tingled in his presence. It was an unspoken understanding that you could only see him at night at these shows. You anticipated seeing his youthful face, every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He'd sit within the audience, watching your every move. Then backstage, approaching you, he'd always have a fresh bouquet. You would give him a look and he’d say something along the lines of how a star deserves flowers.

“Knock knock,” Armand said, catching your attention, turning from the vanity.

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up, and closing your robe.

“For you, the beautiful star of the show,” he said, handing you the bouquet.

“Thank you, Armand,” you told him.

“You never have to thank me,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss on top. Pulling away, as your heart leaped, you shifted your eyes.

“I have to get home soon,” you said.

“Right, your husband…it is a shame he doesn't come out to support you,” Armand said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“He works a lot”

“Unfortunate, I mean for him, because I get to have you to myself,” he said, smirking.

“Are you walking me home?” you asked, your face burning at his shameless joke.

“I'm ready when you are, angel”

You admired Armand, greatly, how confident, bold, intelligent, handsome-wait. Being around Armand, you oftentimes had to remind yourself you were married, as well as him. He had no problem blatantly flirting and laughing as you froze up in embarrassment. The two of you were growing closer than you should have been, while, it seemed like your marriage was crumbling.

“I don't want you working there anymore,” Philip told you, as you replaced the water in the vase, setting it near the window.

“Why? The extra money is helping…” you said, still staring at the flowers, Armand crossing your mind.

“My colleagues have been talking about the place nonstop, they think you’re some exotic whore,” he grumbled.

“Okay? There opinions aren’t paying us,” you told him.

“I don’t need them having you as a subject in the paper, you’re quitting,” he began to raise his voice.

“Philip, the money is great”

“I told you, I would provide the life you deserve-

“When? We’ve been out here for nearly a year and you have no signs of a pay increase. Am I supposed to sit around and hope? My mother was right about you,” you spat.

“What did you say?” He stalked towards you, your hands went up defensively as he walked towards you, as if you were prey. Raising his hand, he held it high, ready to strike you. You’d shut your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

Opening your eyes, you watched as he stood still, realizing what he was about to do, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he began to repeat, reaching for you before you ran out of the building. As you made it down the flight of stairs, you mentally cursed yourself, realizing you forgot to grab your coat, but were too afraid to go back.

Instead you walked the streets, stopping in your tracks, seeing the familiar faces. The cast members dressed as creatures of the night. You were about to walk towards them when a hand lightly pulled you backward. Gasping, your face relaxed as you bumped into Armand.

“Hi,” you said, breathlessly.

“What are you doing out here, in the middle of the night?” He tilted his head at you. You could ask the same thing, they were all here, a good distance from the theater.

“Just walking around, clearing my mind,” you said, shrugging.

“Something happened?” He asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” you shook your head. Armand was the last person you wanted to burden your problems with.

“Then allow me to join you, we can clear our minds together,” he intertwined his arm with yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-

“Shall we go to the park? It’s quiet around this time,” he thought, leading you in the other direction.

“What are you all doing out here, in the middle of the night?” You asked him.

“Finding…inspiration,” he smirked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course”

“Do you think it is wrong to regret big decisions you’ve made?”

“I think there are no coincidences, your mistake can lead you to your biggest culmination, regret is unnecessary, stress about something from your past, but tell me, what is it, you wish could have been done differently?”

“Maybe stayed home, pursued my dreams there, found a husband who was a man of his word, who supported my ambitions despite if others thought negatively of me,” you said, you hadn't realized you were crying until you felt Armand's finger brushing the tears away.

“This is nothing to be ashamed of, your dreams are coming to reality and I am a man of my word, I couldn’t care what anyone has to say when you’re on stage,” he smirked as you started laughing.

“And why is that?” You stopped walking.

“Because my eyes are blessed to see an angel and I don’t want to miss any parts of your beauty,” he said, as he gazed into your glossy eyes. Stepping closer, he pressed his lips against your own, and your arms guilelessly went around his neck.

“Where have you been, all my life?” you peered into his eyes.

“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing your lips, once more.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you giggled as the kiss broke.

“You’ve been worth the wait, come, it is getting late, I’m sure there are still some hotels opened-

“I can go home”

“Y/n-

“Trust me, I’ll be fine at home,” you smiled, as he redirected the walk to your apartment.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Armand asked, as you both stood outside your door.

“Knowing Philip, he left,” you reassured him.

“Come to my theater tomorrow night”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“See you then,” he grinned, pecking your lips, before turning away.

“Edward, I don’t understand?” You frowned, trying to fathom what he was saying.

“I think it’s better this way, I’ve been more than grateful for the business you’ve brought to us, but we can’t risk having the article released, it will do more damage than anything,” he explained, his eyes full of pity.

You had extra time on your hands, stopping at your job, when Edward gave you the news. He was firing you, not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had received an anonymous tip about the cabaret soon to be in the media, and not for anything positive - going as far as being compared to a brothel.

All coverage wasn't good coverage in Edwards's eyes and he knew the target audience would turn away from the establishment in an instant.

“I'm sorry, Y/n,” he said, as you sighed, before putting on your best smile. You wouldn't cry now, sometimes this happened to big stars, you told yourself.

“It is alright, I wish you nothing but the best, goodbye,” you told him, leaving the cabaret.

You never looked back, keeping your eyes forward as you approached the ticket collector. His eyes snapped to you as he slightly frowned.

“There is a line,” he told you matter-factly.

“Is Armand here?”

“You can find out after you get in line just like everyone else-

“Y/n,” Armand walked outside, giving him a look. You watched as he lowered his gaze, almost in submission.

“Come,” he motioned, reaching out. Smiling, you accepted his hand, letting him lead you to his booth.

“Is there a reason you look like you’re on the verge of tears?”

“Just trying to figure out why everything is going wrong in my life,” you said, with a chuckle.

“Perhaps your culmination is closer than you realize”

“I hope you’re right”

“I’m in love with you,” your eyes widened at his words as you spoke at the same time.

“Armand, I-

“Since the moment you graced my eyes, I’ve been bewitched by your presence and…and I don’t want to leave it. I can give you the life you deserve, a stage to perform, love unlike any other, and pleasure beyond comprehension, choose me,” he told you, his eyes went to your lips, before he turned, watching as the lights dimmed.

Throughout the play, you could hardly focus, as your finger interlocked with Armand’s. His thumb caressed your warm flesh, bringing your hand to his lips. You could agree with your former colleagues, the play seemed real, almost too real. If it wasn’t for Armand’s swooning, you would be panicking.

You watched as the girl screamed, begging to be saved, but death came to collect. Surrounding her, her shrieking faded away as the curtains closed.

“That was…intense,” you gulped, as Armand laughed.

“It is all apart of the show,” he reminded you.

“Yes, doesn’t change that it was a little scary”

“You would look ravishing on that stage, whatever you'd like, singing, dance, it's yours,” he told you.

“I have to go,” you bit back your smiled, flattered by his bold promises.

“Stay, for tonight”

“I can't, it has been on my heart to write to my mother, so I want to get a head start,” you told him.

“Then will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you nodded, accepting his kiss, before you left, making your way home.

Thinking of the steady decline of your marriage, you worried for your future, if you were headed towards a divorce. Your mother was the smartest woman you knew and although she was disappointed, you knew she would never turn her back completely. Like the prodigal son, you’d return home if it meant better circumstances, and your mother like the father, would accept you with open arms. Your heart wanted to believe Armand, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for more empty promises.

Settling back into the apartment, you sat at Philip’s desk. You wouldn't consider yourself nearly as good as a writer as he was, but he had taught you a few things to better your craft. Grabbing a pen, you started a bit formal, it had been a while since you'd seen your mother after all.

As your writing progressed, you poured your emotions out into the paper. Dealing with the suppressed feeling of being the reason for your brother's condition, your failed attempts at marriage, and your career, since leaving home. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you raised your eyebrows at the time. Had it already been two hours of writing? Albeit, there was a pile of crumbled papers.

Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.

“Philip?”

Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.

“Y/n, please, I won’t…just let me explain,” he said, opening the manila folder.

“It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you, I started an article, you were going to have an entire page. But…but then my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I could hardly think. Before I knew it, the article was on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone”

“You came to my show before?”

“Always, after the first time, you came home gushing, I promised to try to make it,” he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.

“This man, he came to every show, front row, bringing you flowers,” he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around you, his lips pressed against your own.

“Philip-

“Just listen,” he shook his head, stopping you.

“I went to his theater, to confront him, to win my wife back, but then I found this, in his office,” he pulled out more photos.

“He has been watching you since we came here, from the time we arrived, there are photos of you taken. Then, I looked around, and what I saw, they aren't human, none of them. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings,” he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.

“I think he has been getting in my head, since I began to suspect him, I’ve felt like another person is living inside of me,” he said, wiping his tears.

“I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, we have to leave, now, we can go home, start fresh, leave all of this behind us,” he stressed.

Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the boat. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.

Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the scariest glare set on Philip.

“Armand?” you called his name, hesitantly.

“Y/n, run,” Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.

“Philip-

“Run, now,” he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.

“Run,” Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.

Run, run, don't stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you'd drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.

"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.

"Please help me, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.

"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

"Please, don't kill me,” you cried, shaking your head.

“Shh, shh, there is no need to cry,” he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he married you,” he admitted.

“What are you?”

“A vampire,” he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.

“They weren’t acting,” you shook your head, trying to shove him away.

“Not at the end, no,” he confessed. Wrapping his arms you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly.

Lifting into the air, you gasped, realizing he was floating, no flying! Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head.

“We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the boat. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams but weren't putting yourself out there, so I sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are,” Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.

“I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?” he asked, a gloomy look in his eyes.

“He was my husband, he didn’t have much, but I loved him,” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have given you the opportunities you can have. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised”

“You killed him,” you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you.

“Because I love you, I can love you better than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I could give you the eternal gift, lavishing you, treasuring you, why can’t you see, has your love for me left that quickly?” he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart had turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.

“No,” you said, breathlessly.

“Then choose me, you have no need to fear me, we will be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel,” he said, a bloody tear slipping out of his eye. As he looked away, you snapped out of the trance, your heart ached to see Armand this way.

“I don't think I can forgive anytime soon, but I love you and I want you,” you told him, as you began to cry all over. Reaching towards his face, you wiped the blood away, before cupping his face in your hand. Searching your face for reassurance, you nodded.

“This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it,” he told you, softly pecking your lips. Swiftly dipping you, you held onto him, as his fangs sank into your neck.

“Then what happened?” Daniel raised his voice, leaning towards you.

“I drank from him, and became his fledgling. I would say the rest is history, but it’s on the blog,” you laughed.

“You forgave him, just like that, after what he had done to Philip?”

“She actually took nearly a decade before I didn’t hear anything anymore,” Armand said, lifting your hand to his lips.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to a few things,” Daniel said, writing on his notebook.

“Okay, let’s hear it”

“Philip said that he came to your shows, nearly every single one, up until you were fired. But, during your time with Armand, he always seemed to working”

“He was saying a lot of things that night, him showing up to my shows was the least important thing to me at the time, but it was like 80 years ago, I don’t remember it like it was yesterday,” you laughed.

“I understand, Philip and Edward both spoke about an article, did this said article ever come about?”

“No-

“The fire was talked about, it took any attention from Y/n,” Armand interrupted.

“And what of the Cabaret? The Vampire Theater?”

“As far as we know, no one made it,” Armand said.

“The Cabaret went out of business a few years into my new life, I hear it’s a bakery now, you should visit,” you told him.

“If I’m not busy, I will think about it. What about your mother and brother?”

“I checked on them a few times, but the bloodline has ended with me,” you said, your smile faltering.

“I see,” he nodded, writing a note down.

“I trust you will do well with my story Daniel, reflecting on my past, I was a child, I didn’t have a real grasp of love and what it meant. I cared for Philip, he is who influenced my writing, but I can finally understand how much I didn’t actually love him,” you told him before he stopped the audio recording.

“Well, that’s it,” he sighed, saving the contents, before closing the computer.

“Lovely, would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, as Daniel rubbed his head.

“No, I already made plans,” he said, his head feeling distorted and fuzzy.

“Awe, too bad, let me at least walk you to the door,” you stood, leading him to the front door of the spacious penthouse.

Sitting alone, Armand clenched his jaw, his eyes sharply piercing the air. Years upon years, nearly reversed in a single session. He could tell by the way Daniel was asking these questions, he wanted you to remember the obvious, but the truth was far too blurred for you to ever remember things how things were.

From the moment he saw you, he wanted you, filled with jealousy seeing you kiss him. He immediately began to find information about the two of you, watching from a distance. He did hear your thoughts, about how you wanted to be a star, which is why he sent Edward to you. The Cabaret had been nearby for some time now and hardly got any attention, you could work there for a while until you were ready for his stage.

Philip had been to nearly every show, but Armand was too far into your mind for you to ever notice him. Dancing and singing for the vampire alone, he had changed your memory too many times for you to even recount your performances. His breaking point was after stalking you, approaching your apartment, his heart shattered hearing you moan for him. The man he despised.

Lastly, he wished him turning you was as romantic as you made it out to be. After you told him you didn’t love him anymore, he promised that you would learn to love him again, before draining you. The thought of the fire infuriated him, his hate growing towards him. Philip ruined his plans and for that, he paid with his death. You were supposed to be turned, in the most beautiful way, becoming the lead actress at his theater. All of his plans, plans for you, the both of you, went to waste, because of him.

Armand knew some would come to this conclusion, and begin to question why. The answer was simple, so simple that many would hate him for his actions. He was jealous, seeing someone have what he wanted, so he took it. He had lived too long to care about his decisions hurting others and he held no regrets.

“Hey, are you coming to get ready for bed?” You asked, coming back to the entrance of the living room. Standing up, in an instant, he stood in front of me.

“Am I forgiven for my choices, my angel?” he asked, rubbing his face against your hands as you held his cheeks.

“You don't have to ask, don't let this story get to you, it's in our past,” you told him, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“I love you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you too,” you told him, kissing him once more.

“I'll join you soon,” he said, watching as you turned, walking away.

Armand would never admit how prideful and monstrous his nature could be. Selfishly, he has taken you away from any and everything you knew, keeping you all to himself. However, none of these things mattered, he had won, in the end. You were a star, only meant to perform on his stage.

#interview with the vampire #armand x reader #amc iwtv #amc armand #armand the vampire

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nonotnolan · 7 months ago

Text

Jock Cock, Part 1

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Adam Johnson, next year's star quarterback and this year's bane of my existence, looked up at me with his baby blue eyes. If he was trying to look small and unintimidating, it would have worked better without carrying 200+ pounds of muscle on a six foot frame.

Well, if he wanted to be melodramatic, two could play that game. "You know full well why I called you here, Adam." I thumped the stack of papers on my desk for emphasis. "You've been failing ECON 105 all semester, but suddenly you can score an 83% on the final exam? It's enough to get you D- in this class. It's not a perfect score, but it's still enough for you to avoid academic probation."

His face flashed with a brief moment of irritation before setting back into his normal, casual stupor. "Well, I wasn't studying before, and now I did. It's not like I scored all that great... sir."

"We both know that you don't know what 'sustainability' means, Adam. You tried to fly under the radar, you didn't cheat your way into a 100%... but it's still cheating. We both know that academic misconduct is a serious crime." I tried my best to sound stern and disappointed, but it was hard to be angry at a face this sexy.

Adam just laughed at me. "And if you could prove it, you wouldn't be calling me into a private meeting, would you?" He leaned back into a shit-eating grin, displaying his dazzling white teeth. This asshole had the upper hand, and he knew it.

"I checked every single essay!" I said, pounding the stack of papers once again. "Every essay, in every single TA's session of this class. You didn't plagiarize... but we both know this isn't your style of writing. And we watched you like a hawk during the exam itself, so you didn't cheat that way, either."

Adam leaned close into my face. "Professor Michaels has no idea that you called me in here, does he? You're just a Teaching Assistant on a power trip, and it's all because you can't stand knowing how I did it." He was right, and I hated him for it. Worse, when he stood this close to me, I could smell the musk of his body.

"Tell you what," he added, pulling off his tank top to reveal a set of firm abs. "You let me get away with this... sign off on my scores, whatever you need to do... and I'll let you live out one of your deepest, darkest fantasies." He struck a pose, showing off both his rippling muscles and his hairy pits. "We both know that you'll never get jock cock any other way. Come on, Teach. You want this."

Was I really that easy to read? "I-- I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Look, if you're going to stick to your lie about studying, then you can just leave. I don't... there's no need to insult my moral character. You're a student, Adam."

He responded by leaning in close to me, and placing his hand on top of my bulge. "Your body betrays you," he whispered, letting his fingers massage my inner thigh. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not your student. Adam and I swapped bodies so that I could take all of his final exams."

"I... yes, well..." That was the last thing I expected him to say, but it would explain a lot if it were true, somehow. It seemed much more likely than a desirable athlete like Adam coming onto me, at the very least.

"Be that as it may," I said, grabbing his hand and moving it away before my cock started leaking though my slacks, "that body still belongs to one of my students. And I still have meetings to attend today, so if we're done here..."

Adam, or the stranger in Adam's body, just laughed at me. "You're the one who wanted to have this meeting, remember? But that's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. But here's the thing-- once you submit grades at end of day, Adam's not your student anymore." He started typing something on his phone. "And honestly, I expected this from you. You're so uptight. Good thing you gave everyone your cell phone number on the syllabus at the start of the year. So if you change your mind... now you can have Adam's number, and a bonus pic from me."

"I know you don't know the real me, but trust me Kevin-- I've wanted to plow that uptight hole of your for months. And in this body, I've actually got a shot at it." The stranger slapped my ass before I could react, and swaggered out of the room. Whoever was inside of Adam's body, they knew my first name.

I looked at the retreating wall of shoulder muscles, and down at the teasing bathroom selfie the stranger sent to me. God help me, I was only human. And he was right-- how else was I going to get jock cock? He wasn't a student, not really, and that's what mattered. "You win. Tonight at 8pm, my place. Bring lube."

Check out Part 2 here. Check out Part 3 here.

#male body swap #gay body swap #after the swap #nerd to jock #muscle jock #queer romance #gay male story #jock cock

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hidtired · 7 months ago

Note

Hey, I love your stories for Daryl Dixon! If you wouldn’t mind I had a request? Daryl and reader have a pre established relationship (met at the querry, got together at the prison, got ‘married’ at some point) of a few years. During the line up, after Daryl hits Negan for killing Abraham, Negan can kind of figure out him and reader are together by matching wedding rings. To punish Daryl, negan can hang the reader until they ‘die’ (stop moving) and cuts her down. After Daryl is taken the group can realize, after being sad for a bit, that the reader is breathing and is alive and bring a her to hilltop. Negan could have put a bag over readers head or something before being hung so that once cut down its harder to tell she’s alive, and they could have even taken a picture of reader hung up to mess with Daryl in his cell. Dual POV. Extra extra angst, and happy ending/reunion when Daryl escapes please! If you could, could it be a few parts long? I understand if you can’t do that or even get to this request at all and that’s 100% okay! Anyways, love your story’s!

Someone cooked here... this is beautifully messed up. So right up my ally!

Hangman

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. To have a rope looped for your neck, intended for your death. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down.

2.1k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You met Daryl and slowly fell in love with him. Most say they fell in love at first sight. But you? It was slowly then all at once. He was a gruff man, but under that was the most caring person you ever met. You had caught yourself thinking of him differently while on the road after the farm fell. You were friends at the farm, joking and teasing one another.

"You bein' sweet on me?"

You sniffle wiping a tear and punching him in the arm. He had gotten shot by Andrea and had fallin on a bolt while looking for Sophia. The punch hurt your redden knuckles. You had turned and laid Andrea out on the grass. Her cry's of "Did I kill him?!" Sent you to shut her mouth. Your lip wobble trying to not met him eye to eye. Daryl sighed, "Come on girl. No water works for me." He chuckled at the sight, amused to see you so worked up for his sake.

He learned you cared for him that day. He also learned how much he did when everyone was separated after the farm fell. He hugged you. More of shoved you into him practically about to lift you in the air.

“What? Getting sweet on me Dixon?”

It didn’t become romantic until the first night at the prison. Better know to Daryl as ‘THE kiss’. You had finally felt safe for the first time in a while, and you were thinking of him like crazy. So, when he was a little too close and looked down to your lips for a split second… you took action and ran with it. You had grabbed him with both hands and slowly lean into him. Didn’t last long, a peck— a test. He looked taken aback before it clicked and he was kissing you more. Now this moment was better known to you as ‘scarring T-dog’. He had gone to find both of you for dinner and found Daryl pinning you to a wall while making out.

The question of marriage wasn’t proposed as much talked about one late night months into the prisons development. You lay down legs tangled you smiling at him like a fool. The people of the prison loved Daryl. So when a new comer he saved reference to you as Mrs. Dixon it got you feeling a way. “M’ not sure I wanna ask what’s got you all giddy.” You rolled into him more, a dumb smile on your face, “You~”. He raised a brow at you. There were moments when you got all lovey, on him, normally when you were about to start your period. Or ovulating which was a different kind of lovey…

“What do you think about marriage?”

He was not expecting that. He froze thinking of his parents. “Never had a good example of it?” He just didn’t understand the purpose of it. What was to be married? More so with how the world is now. You lean your head against his chest, “I see it as just a promise. To promise myself to you.” He looked down to meet your eyes, “Thought ya were already mine?” You nodded with a smile, “Exactly, I’m already yours. But I would be caring your name as mine.” That is when it sank in, you a Dixon. The Dixons. Them. His hold on you became a little tighter. It would mean everything they already did. He knew the only death could part each other. Thats when you officially became his wife. Later with rings to match.

Till death do us part…

That lead you all to here and now. Face to face to death. Negan, finished with his brutal attack to Abraham. The remainder of what left of him desiccated. Negan swang the bloody bat splattering everyone with blood. His taunting made the hot head that is your husband try and attack him. He landed a crushing blow before getting pinned.

Your POV

It had happened so fast. Daryl was pinned with his own crossbow pointed at his head. The man holding it speaking, “I could end it right here.” You couldn’t even speak, you were shaking. Had a hand to your mouth trying to quiet your sobs. ‘Please don’t kill him… not him.’ Negan had noticed the ring on your finger and took a look to everyone’s face at that moment. He finally turned back to Daryl, “Nah, you don’t kill that. Not unless you try a little first.” A sick smile pulling his lips, “Put him back in line.” He eyed Daryl, “I don’t know what lying pricks you’ve been dealing with but I did say you only get one! No exceptions.” Negan leaned back before slowly turning to you and pointing, “Get her up.” You were swiftly pulled to your feet. Daryl’s voice booming in displeasure. Negan spoke again put to the group surrounding you, “We’ve never done this before! Simon… get the noose.” Some ooos rolled through the crowd.

Negan turned back to Rick. Daryl still wiggling free to help you. “See Rick I don’t like the look in your eye. Any of your eyes, you just don’t seem to get it!” It was Michonne voice urgent as she witnessed them set up the rope in a tree, “W-we get it. You don’t have to do that-“ Negans voice booming with amusement, “Oh I know you do but I did say no exceptions.” He turned his gaze to Daryl at the mention.

You were to be made as an example. To everyone but also for Daryl’s action. You couldn’t blame him for attacking him. He was a sick man doing horrendous things… and with a smile on top of it. You watched the rope go over a branch and someone put a wooden box down under the hanging rope.

You remember finding your Uncle hanging from a pipe in the garage. You were 8. The corners office stated he was hanging there for half a hour before he died, cause of death asphyxiation. The height he fell from didn't break his neck. The height of the box to the tree wasn’t high enough either.

Daryl was cursing and spitting threats as they dragged you to stand on the box. “I’LL KILL YOU, TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!!” But as the rope was looped around your head those threats turned to please, “No— PUNISH ME! IT WAS ME! NOT HER-“ He was crying and you looked on while he thrashed around. You smiled to him. You were scared sure, whether you were going to die fast or slow going through your mind.

Tears tracked down your face but you had stopped crying and had a look that could kill. Negan only seemed cheerful as always taking notice to your calming demeanor. You looked on to everyone on their knees as they stare at you with pure panic. You saw Rick’s hand shaking, mouth periodically opening to say something but he had nothing to say to get you out of this. Daryl had stopped thrashing and was looking to you with a face that pained you. He was pale from blood loss, eyes brimming with tears.

Your vision was blocked by a bag that was thrown over your head. You could slightly see through the fabric. Your heartbeat was in your ears. Negan had now come to stand next to you, “Now there is a new world order. You have shit I want so you give it to me or you could join— Hell her name?” You hear a savior state your name. “Ahh Y/N here… So let’s get this crystal clear for all of you now. You all belong to me.” He turned to you, “Any last words?”

You took a deep breath, “See you in hell.”

He chuckled. It was silent for a moment, air filled with anticipation. “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ He kicked that wooden box out from under you.

You felt gravity pulling you to the ground. Then the feeling of the rope tighten around your throat. Your ears picking up on the sounds of yelling and crying from your family. You had bobbed like a fish on a line. You put your hands to the rope on your neck. Struggling to breathe. Your body thrashing dangling from the tree. It wasn’t until you tilted your head back you got a little air. The noose didn’t seem to close all the way. Inside your mind yelled one thing, ‘go slack’. You slowly released your hands from the rope dangling with the rest of you. Soon after stopping any movement despite your body wanting to. You felt a pressure in the back of your eyes. The lack of sufficient oxygen making you feel like you were spinning. And the growing pain radiating around your neck was something you’ve never felt before. Like you were dying.

Negan had been talking throughout you struggling. But you hadn’t the mind to listen. It was Daryl’s sobs you recognized. He sounded like he was getting pulled away with the sounds of a heavy door slamming. A flash of light came through the bag on your head, click of a camera soon followed after. Negan talked again before you felt gravity pull you again. He had cut you down. You flopped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You felt the wind get knocked out of you. Whatever wind you had left anyways. It took you a second before your first real breath came to you. But you try to remain still, to play possum.

You still remained there on the floor, yelling in your mind to stay awake. Coming up with anything to remain conscious like, math problems or names of your childhood pets. You had the feeling like you were on choppy water. Swaying back and forth on a boat. The deafening silence pulled you from your mind. Maybe you had died? But you decided you needed to move.

Group POV

Everyone was still after the saviors left. The first shuffling of gravel was Glenn moving to his wife after snapping out of the shock. His movement snapping everyone out of it to. Maggie clung to him while sobbing, emotionally and physically distressed. The sound of groaning and raspy noises made them all turn to you. It was Rick who spoke, “She turned…” You body propped up on hands and knees. They looked on before it was Carl moved to put you down, everyone else had even yet to move before him. Carl only got a few steps before you pulled the bag off your head.

Everyone froze again. Your fist clenching around the rope still around your neck. The chocking noises and tears sounds as you struggle with moving, “Holy shit she’s still alive!” Aaron had ran past Carl to then kneel beside you. Removing the rope from you revealed a line of black and purple around your neck. The rest had made their quick approach to you in disbelief. You were clawing at anyone next to you, you were in pain and didn't know who to act other then to wither. One hand still to your throat. Your eyes were blood red and the noise you made while attempting to breathe was high and liquidy.

Sasha had moved up behind you looping her arms behind yours, “Quick we need to get her to Hilltop! Maggie to!” Michonne moving for your legs to carry you to a truck the saviors left. Glenn helping Maggie into the passengers seat. Eugene began to list facts about being hanged like, 'it takes 10-20 minutes before a person died. You had been hung by a 'suspension hanging' but the height you fell from wasn't sufficient enough. The Saviors lack of knowledge had saved your life.' It was mostly a nervous habit to provide the information, a sort of coping. He was watching Rick and Aaron put Abraham's body in the back on the truck bed.

Maggie yelled to support your head to Sasha who you laid onto. You were still fighting unconscious, tears streaming down your red eyes. Glenn slipped into the drivers seat. Maggie speaking out the windows, "We got her. Get back to Alexandria. Plan to kick those monsters in the ass." Just like that they were off to hilltop.

The rest stood to see the car go off into the distance. Still shaken but the littlest bit more relieved you hadn't died in the worse way imageable in front of them. When they finally got back in the RV to go back home Rick just couldn't help but spot the noose on the ground from the review.

Daryl had no clue about you getting back up from that monstrous act.

Part 2

Feedback welcome and requests always open and encouraged!

(If you or a loved one are suffering and having thoughts of suicide please seek help. You are wanted and loved. Its cheesy but true when people say it gets better.)

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff

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ghosts-u · 8 months ago

Text

When Charlie was first born things had been… tense between Lucifer and heaven. While they had never directly threatened the life of his child the angels had made their displeasure at the implications of Lucifer having children known. They had never said out right for Lucifer not to have more children. But the indirect threats and the particularly Brutal extermination the year that Charlie was born was enough for him to get the message.

Still he would never let them hurt his child he loved Charlie with all his heart and no matter what he would protect his daughter.

The angels did not want Lucifer having more children, and he was content with only having one child. He knew he was not the best father for Charlie a part of him did want to have a chance to try again but he never actually thought he would get the chance.

—

Lucifer’s heart swelled as he stared at the little bundle in his arms. Lilith stood looking at the child pensively she reached over gently touching the baby's cheek and sighs. “How do you think the angels will react once they find out about her?” Lilith questioned. And Lucifer was conflicted the last thing he would ever want is for anything to happen to this child but… He stared down at the baby snuggled soundly in his arms and he could never imagine anyone hurting her.

But he knew the angels would, especially if it was to punish him. Dark thoughts started to haunt him of what would happen once they found out. They never said directly he couldn’t have more children so maybe this time they would give him a direct warning? Or most likely they would just kill his baby…or possibly even Charlie to send a message.

There was an even higher possibility of them just killing both. And though Lucifer hated him self for it for a brief moment he contemplated Just ridding him self of the problem entirely to protect Charlie from the potential risk.

Cute little eyes look up at him as the little girl opens her eyes for the first time, and in that moment Lucifer knew he could never forsake this child, his baby. “They won’t.” He says rocking the baby in his arms his eyes filled with resolve. “They won’t ever know about her.” Lilith looks at him her eyes furrowed yet words seem to leave her as just by looking at him she can tell he’s made his choice. “And your sure that’s the best option? Won’t it caused even more trouble if they find out we hid this from them?”

“We are under no obligation to report to them when we have children. If we hadn’t announced Charlie’s birth they wouldn’t have known about her existence either. She is not the heir to the throne so there is no need to officially announce her birth.” Lucifer states walking over to the window and closing the blinds. “And what about Charlie are we going to tell her?” Lilith asks. “No, she’s more than 100 years old now while I'm sure she would be happy to have a sibling it’s not like they would be growing up together. Besides you know how she is I’m sure she would protest about her sister not being officially recognized.”

Lilith approaches Lucifer and tries to take the small girl but Lucifer pulls away. “You had gotten to raise Charlotte. I-I just…I want to be a real father to her. I want to protect her I don’t want her to have to suffer in this place, I want her to have better than this…” He says with a sad smile. Lilith eyes narrow and she looks away and with a heavy sigh she turns away from the two. “Fine. That’s fair I had Charlotte you have this one…”

“Y/N”

Lilith looks back momentarily. “What?” “Y/N it’s there name.” Lucifer says looking down at Y/N as if she was the only thing in the world. Lilith holds back from grabbing the baby in his arms she knew he would never hurt the small girl. Yet she could feel her heart dropping to her stomach as she watched the two. “I…it’s a Beautiful name.” She says before walking out of the room feeling as if she was running away.

Liliths and Lucifer’s relationship had been on the decline ever since Charlie was born and with the birth of Y/N it was pretty much over. Not that Lucifer didn’t love his wife he still loved her even if now every time she looked at him he could see a hint of discussed in her eyes. Even if they had moved to separate wings of the palace and she no longer made attempts at seeing Y/N as if it pained her to see her child confined. It was fine, he still loved her and as for Y/N he would just give her twice as much love to make up for Lilith.

“Daddy, Daddy! Look it’s a giant duck!” Y/N says with excitement looking at the Duck shaped boats. Lucifer smiled at the girl patting her head he had taken her to the private amusement park LuLu world he had made for Charlie. It was her 6th birthday today and though it was difficult for him to let her leave the palace he made an exception just for this one day. After all soon she would have all the space to run around as her heart desired. “Would you like to go on the ride?” He asked adoring the wide smile that lit up on Y/Ns face. He thought it was extra adorable how the wings on her back fluttered with excitement.

He noted he would need to trim them shorter next time as she was hovering a little to high off the ground for his tastes. It pained him to trim her wings so short, he would’ve at least wanted to wait until she was a little older but her wings just grew so fast… Ah! He Caught himself in his thoughts. Soon there would be no need to trim them anymore and he could just imagine teaching his little girl how to fly.

Lucifer let Y/N run around to her hearts content going on rides or looking around it wasn’t long before she had tired her self out. “Daddy?” Y/N said gently tugging on his coattail. “Can you carry me?” She whined and he obliged picking her up letting her rest her head on his sholder gently rubbing her back. Y/N looked up at the blood red sky towards the white shining sphere surrounded by clouds.

“Daddy what’s that up in the sky? Is it a Castle?”

Lucifer chuckled at the question. “No dear it’s heaven. It looks very beautiful doesn’t it? It’s where all the angels live and pure souls live. But no matter how beautiful it may look it’s rotten inside and it rots everything it touches until it’s a shell of its self and rotten too.” he says gently holding her cheek brushing his thumb over her cheek. “And if they can’t do that they try to destroy whatever they can’t rot.” He presses his forehead to Y/Ns holding her close to him. “They would want to do the same to you. But daddy would never let that happen to you.”

Y/N looks up at him with heavy eyes fighting to stay open. “Sleep. When you wake up you won’t have to worry about heaven ever again.” With a smile he looks at Y/N rubbing her cheek as sleep finely takes her. “I won’t allow my precious baby to suffer in this place with all these filthy sinners.” He snaps his fingers a portal opening up he steps through revealing an entire galaxy, stepping onto a floating planet completely barren. But It wasn’t for long as he wills a tree to form lush green leaves and beautiful flowers sprouting the roots forming in a thick dip allowing him to place Y/N in the middle.

“You don’t need heavens false paradise when you have me. Daddy will make a paradise so large and grand you won’t even know it’s a cage.” He conjures soft blankets and pillows making sure she was comfortable. He turned to the vast empty land and cracked his hands and smirks he had a lot of work to do

#platonic yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #Yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel platonic #yandere lucifer morningstar #Yandere Lucifer Morningstar x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere x reader #yandere platonic

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batsplat · 26 days ago

Note

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

#some of you lot really should be making more use of -#- the line 'because that's actually when problems can arise - if it's you that the italian falls in love with'#//#brr brr #clown tag #batsplat responds #i can also remember a post-retirement interview where he was up early to watch the motogp race and was suffering? can't find it though #im on the other side of the generational shift on this... the idea of approaching professional sport like that makes me twitchy #like so much of it these days is controlling every controllable variable perfect optimisation and all that. this feels so casual!!#and is honestly one of the things that makes his longevity the most impressive. one hell of a change to have to make mid career

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kaisacobra · 9 months ago

Text

Deal - Tara Carpenter

Summary: After a long time apart, you and Tara have to figure out if you can still save what you had or if you are too broken to be fixed.

Warnings: A bit of angst (maybe)

Word Count: 3.9K

a/n: This is officially the end of the whole "second best" saga! Thank you so much for everyone who read it till here, it was really fun to write. I hope you guys don't mind the open ending 🤭

Fourth part/Alternate ending of Second Best

Tara couldn't remember the last time she felt this nervous. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for what must have been the hundredth time, adjusting her bangs again, sweeping them from side to side until they looked almost the same as they did initially. The bright light in the room highlighted her freckles and wide, brown eyes filled with anxiety.

It had been a little over a year since she last saw you, since you accepted a spot for a study abroad program after recovering from the injuries caused by the last ghostfaces attack. You went with Kate, and as far as Tara knew, you and the girl spent that time living together.

She vividly remembered the day you left, as everyone else bid you farewell at the airport while Tara drowned in her own misery in her room. She wanted to go, say something, maybe even plead for you to stay, but she didn't have that right. She had sworn not to get close to you again until she knew she had her emotions under control.

Still, she allowed herself to be a bit more flexible when she noticed that her contact was no longer blocked by you. She let her fingers type an honest and heartfelt message about her mistakes, how sorry she was, and her plans to become a better person in the future. You responded with a heart emoji and nothing more. Nevertheless, it relieved the weight on Tara's chest just to know that you didn't hate her as much as she feared.

Tara remained true to the promise she made, a kind of devotion to you and what you represented in her life. She continued her therapy sessions regularly and decided to set aside some of her pride when trying to find new coping mechanisms, even if some of them required the help of others.

Writing remained her favorite, and she had hundreds of pages to prove it. She would be lying if she said you weren't the most mentioned topic in her journals, but over time, she started expanding her writing, and it became common to see her with a small notebook in her bag at all times, ready to express her opinions and feelings when necessary.

But she didn't have the notebook in hand that day. It was Mindy's birthday, and Tara wanted to be 100% dedicated to her friends, actively participating in games, conversations, and any other activity they needed. She knew she had been a bit absent-minded since you moved away, and it made her friends uneasy, not knowing exactly how to deal with the situation and with Tara herself.

But the day was supposed to be happy and carefree, so that's what Tara was going to appear to be.

Or at least, that was the plan until Tara arrived at Mindy's apartment and heard from the birthday girl herself that you would be arriving any moment. From that point on, Tara only remembers feeling her heart almost leap out of her throat and rushing to the bathroom in a failed attempt to prevent hyperventilation.

She sighed again and gripped the sink so tightly that the knuckles of her fingers turned white. She was anxious to see you, but she had no idea how you would react to the encounter. What if you looked at her with distaste? Or if you didn't even want to look her in the face? Tara knew she would deserve that kind of treatment, but it didn't mean it would hurt any less.

Because the truth is, all this time, Tara just wanted you back in her life.

---

Ringing a doorbell should be a simple task, but still, you couldn't help but stand in front of the door, second-guessing before pressing the simple buzzer.

"You know, if you want, we can turn around and leave, but we both know that's not what you want."

You sighed, turning to look at the girl beside you. Kate Bishop had her hands in the jacket pockets and displayed a fond smile on her face, which you imagined was an attempt to make you feel better.

"I hate it when you're right," you scoffed, but both of you knew your indignation was just a joke, having spent enough time together to read each other's reactions like a book.

This wasn't what you expected when you accepted the offer for a year-long study abroad program at Cambridge, but you also couldn't say you weren't satisfied with how things turned out. You didn't even know you needed this change of scenery, but it made sense after everything you had been through. You needed time away from painful memories.

The British air provided a calmness you hadn't felt in a long time, without fear of seeing familiar faces on the streets or places that would remind you of certain memories or people. Of course, good company also played a significant role.

You could hardly believe it when Kate offered to share an apartment with you near the college. She had already done so much for you, being by your side and supporting you throughout your rehabilitation process after last year's attack. You didn't want her to feel obligated to continue taking care of you.

But Kate barely listened to your concerns, saying that she needed to go to other countries to try to expand her company's contacts and that it would be good to have a roommate to share expenses (even though you were pretty sure Kate had enough money to buy three apartments in central London if she wanted to).

It was one of the best decisions you had ever made, and quickly you and Kate fell into such a comfortable rhythm that it felt like you had always lived together. Your relationship even turned romantic for a while, but it only lasted until you both realized that you were better off as friends, which was agreed upon between the two of you.

"Come on, ring that doorbell already! I'm starving!" Kate lightly pushed you, and you rolled your eyes with affection, feeling a bit less tense with your friend's moral support.

"Starving," you laughed and actually pressed the doorbell, taking a few steps back to wait for the moment the door would open. Your hands were trembling, and you felt as though you were about to sweat even though it was quite cold in New York. Of course, you missed your friends, your family, but that wasn't enough to ease your anxiety.

When the door finally opened, you were faced with Mindy Meeks-Martin, with her signature sarcastic smile and her short, curly hair reaching her chin, much longer than the last time you saw her. "Well, well. If it isn't our new European! Do you only speak with an accent now?"

"You're ridiculous." With a smile, you advanced and enveloped Mindy in a long hug that she quickly reciprocated, both feeling the longing emanating through the touch. The contact lasted for a few long seconds until you both untangled yourselves again. "I hope it's not a problem that I brought Kate along..."

"Pfft! Of course not!" Mindy waved her hand, indicating that she didn't mind the newcomer. "It's even better you brought her because I needed to thank her in person for taking care of you." She looked at Kate with a playful smile. "I think we all know our y/n is too kind to be alone in a distant country. She would try to help a stranger on the street and get kidnapped for sure."

"Hey!"

"Wow, have you heard about the time she took the wrong subway, and then..."

"Okay! Enough about my misfortune! Can we go in?" You interrupted Kate, feeling your cheeks flush a bit. Despite being slightly embarrassed, you were still happy that two important people in your life had the potential to get along, and that was all you could ask for.

Mindy made room, and finally, you entered the apartment. It was new, considering the twin and Anika had recently moved in together, and it was sparsely furnished but beautiful and comfortable enough to feel like a home. You and Kate approached, she with her hands on your back as a silent support, and you greeted your friends with enthusiasm and a longing to catch up.

Chad looked stronger than ever, and he seemed excited about both college and his part-time job as an assistant at a gym. Apparently, he got a discount for training and using the equipment and was clearly taking full advantage of it. He and Kate engaged in a conversation about diets, weights, and workouts that you honestly couldn't follow, but you were satisfied to know that they had gotten along well enough to plan to train together someday.

Anika was happy and radiant, making you laugh as she always did. She wore a cropped top, revealing the huge scar forming a line in the center of her stomach, something she seemed to wear with pride. You never expected this reaction from her; on the contrary, you had imagined that she would want to distance herself from the group, out of fear or trauma. Still, it was reassuring to see that she had stayed for Mindy. They were the kind of couple you hoped would last forever.

Sam seemed somewhat lighter since the last time you saw her, as if a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. She was smiling, albeit not very widely, and welcomed you with a warm hug that almost made you cry with relief. Part of you always wondered if Sam was glad with your departure because of... well... your conflicts with her sister, but she seemed so happy with your presence that it was almost embarrassing that you had that thought in the first place.

And then, she came. A pair of bright brown eyes that haunted your sleep without permission. It was unfair how she looked as beautiful as the last time you saw her, as if time worked differently for her, and only for her. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart seemed to beat so fast it was about to explode.

How could it be possible that your entire system changed just by her presence? How was it possible that, with a glance, she could change your heartbeat and make your head spin like a carousel? Maybe she didn't even know she was doing it, but you couldn't comprehend why, even after so many years, your body reacted so instinctively around her.

It was almost humiliating to realize that your efforts seemed to have been in vain. You had gone to another country, met new people, explored new horizons, even had a girlfriend for a brief period. During this year, you had thought so little about Tara that you almost thought you could leave her in the past, that you had overcome your feelings, so pure but so conflicting. All of this, all this effort to come back and realize that you seemed to still be stuck in the same place, like the same foolish girl who would do anything for Tara Carpenter against your better judgment.

You could still hear her screams on that last night you had together when you thought you were going to die, and your biggest concern was that Tara had to leave that room alive. You still remembered the conversation you had before, Tara begging for your forgiveness and saying she loved you multiple times.

Those were memories that left a hole in your chest. You knew Tara had her problems, but you always lost so much when she distanced herself.

She raised her hand in an awkward greeting, and you think you gave a half-smile in response. It was too much. You were still feeling too much, and it drove you crazy. Still, you pretended everything was okay for a few moments, just not to create an uncomfortable atmosphere at the party. You talked to the others, sharing a bit of your experience in England, but your mind always unconsciously turned to Tara, analyzing her reactions and trying to read her thoughts.

Tara was quiet, maybe even quieter than you had ever seen her. You couldn't read her expressions very well, straining to see her only from the corner of your eye, but you could feel her attentive gaze on you, as if nothing in the world was as interesting as you.

Finally, you stopped talking for a while and found an excuse to leave and try to restore some of your sanity. The door to the balcony was open, and even though the view was nothing but New York's industrial buildings, the cold wind on your face helped alleviate some of the nervousness you were feeling.

A gentle touch reached your shoulder, and it was familiar enough for you to recognize the owner. Kate's image appeared by your side as she leaned on the railing, looking directly at your face in deep thought. "So?"

"I thought I had gotten over this. This is ridiculous." You responded with your head down, feeling ashamed to continue in this cycle of liking Tara Carpenter.

Kate shook her head and held your shoulder again, silently asking for your attention. "You can't control these things, you know." A second of silence passed, the faint sounds of the city serving as a soundtrack to your emotional confusion. "If it helps, she spent the whole time looking at you. She seemed... I don't know, regretful, maybe? I don't know her as well as you do."

"I don't even know if I still know her." It was a true confession. Even after everything, even the attacks and the message Tara sent you when you were leaving the country, you still weren't sure if she had the capacity to return to what she was before everything went wrong. You were afraid, and honestly, who could blame you?

While you were away, sometimes you checked your friends' Instagram, just to see what they were up to. Multiple times, the posts contained photos with Tara, and she seemed happy, maybe even lighter. You even wondered if the two of you were just destined to be apart, like a more brutal version of Romeo and Juliet.

"You're not obligated to anything, but don't you need some sort of closure?" Kate advised. "Just to move on, if that's what you really want."

"What do you mean by that?" You retorted defensively.

The blue-eyed girl smiled and shook her head slightly, as if dealing with an irritated child. "I saw how you looked at her when you arrived. I'm not saying you should do anything, especially because I have my doubts if she could really be good for you, but it's clear that you feel something for her that's bigger than you can control."

"Yeah, and that's pathetic."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I understand that your situation is complicated." Kate placed her other hand on your shoulder, now holding you face-to-face with her. "But you know you'll have to face this someday, right? Whatever the conclusion may be."

"Yeah, I know." You sighed, but eventually a smile broke through, lighting up your expression. "When did you become so wise, Bishop? Last time I saw you, you were trying to put aluminum in the microwave."

"Shut up." She grumbled while also having a smile on her face and pulled you into a hug that you didn't even know you needed. That was Kate, a warm person who always gave her best to the people she loved. You couldn't be more grateful to still have her in your life, even though your relationship didn't work out.

The affectionate moment almost made you forget your conflict. Almost.

Until the reason for all your doubts appeared standing in front of the door, staring directly at you.

Tara regretted going after you.

She should have expected, especially since you came to the party with Kate, especially because you spent this whole year living with her. But that didn't mean it hurt any less to see you embraced with her, looking so comfortable that you wouldn't need anything else in this world.

Especially if it was someone known for hurting you and breaking your heart repeatedly.

She stood there, rooted to the ground like an idiot, until you two separated and noticed her presence. When your eyes met, she looked like a deer in the headlights and immediately started stepping back, embarrassed to have been caught like that.

Tara was already planning how to hide from you for the rest of the party when Kate stopped her. "Hey! No need to leave."

The Latina girl halted her route and looked suspiciously at both of you. You didn't seem to understand the situation, just like her, but Kate seemed sure of what she was doing because she continued. "You two need to talk once and for all. No imminent death or text messages, just eye to eye."

"Kate." You called her, grabbing her arm as a form of protest. Tara couldn't help but wince when she noticed how just how much you were against the idea of being alone with her. Not that she could blame you for it.

"Thank me later." That was all the other girl responded, and with a short nod towards Tara, she returned to the living room, leaving two tormented souls by themselves on the balcony.

Tara took a few small steps forward, analyzing what your reaction would be to the proximity. You seemed to be doing your best to ignore her, looking into the distance as if there were something interesting in graffiti-covered billboards and dimly lit lamp posts. She leaned on the railing, trying at least to have a view of your face. "Sorry if I interrupted your intimate moment; I didn't mean to."

You released air through your nose, but Tara couldn't tell if it was a laugh. "You talk as if Kate and I were dating."

"And aren't you?" The younger Carpenter replied, trying to contain some of the excitement she wanted to show. That had been one of the best news she had received in a long time.

"No, not for a while. I thought you saw it on my Instagram; I unblocked you." You finally looked at her, and Tara could see that you were analyzing her, as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

"Yeah, I stopped checking a while ago. Thought maybe it would bother you."

"And it wouldn't bother me for you to say you love me and not visit me in the hospital once after almost dying in front of you? It wouldn't bother me that the only news I had from you after that was that message before I boarded the plane, since you didn't even bother to show up at the airport?"

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and she accepted each of your frustrations as a penance. God, she would probably accept a punch from you if that would make you feel better. "I had promised myself that I would only get close to you again when I was better, okay? When I sought help and there was no risk of being an idiot with you again. I didn't lie when I said I love you, and it's because I love you that I knew it was better to stay away until I could be a version of myself that would be better for you."

A minute of pure silence passed, and Tara almost thought the conversation would end there until you spoke again. "And did you? Get better, I mean."

She sighed and crossed her arms as if that made her less vulnerable. "I think so. I don't feel as much uncontrolled anger as before; I also don't feel the need to take out my frustrations in drinks or parties. It's been a while since I argued with Sam, and I think that's good for both of us. And my therapist is nice, even though he's old enough to not know what Twitter is." Tara laughed, even though she was full of anxiety bubbling inside her. "But he advised me to write, and that has helped me a lot."

You looked at her with curiosity. "Write? About what?"

"About everything." Tara shrugged, almost as if she were relaxed. "My day-to-day life, college, my friends... you. Writing makes what I feel not stay trapped inside me, so I have no reason to explode. Everyone wins with this, and I must say that my essay grades even increased after that."

A short laugh escaped your lips, and the sound made Tara minimally satisfied with herself. "You write about me?"

"Yeah, actually, most of my journals have something about you. Memories of our childhood or what I feel for you." Tara admitted, feeling her own face blush with embarassment. You didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care, because you continued to look at her very carefully. "But most of it is about things I regret. Things I said, things I did... I'm really sorry."

"I want to believe that. I mean, I believe you, I know you're not lying, but..." You placed your hands on your head and closed your eyes, your elbows resting on the railing. It seemed like you were trying to block your own thoughts. "It's all so complex, and I feel so much... pain."

"I understand. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I'm willing to spend the rest of my life apologizing if necessary." Cautiously, Tara took a few steps towards you. "But if you want me to stay away, just say the words, and I'll go."

You sighed with evident exhaustion. "Of course not, Tara."

She took a few more steps, and now her arm almost touched yours. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... do you still love me? Or do you think you could love me again someday?"

"Of course, I still love you, Tara! Don't you see that's the problem?" You moved away from the railing, raising your voice as the conversation stressed you. "I shouldn't still love you! I shouldn't still want you around! What does that say about me?"

Tara waited a few seconds until you calmed down, keeping the distance between you to avoid making you more irritated. When your breathing started to slow, she continued in a weak voice. "I hurt the person I loved most in this world. What does that say about me?"

You didn't say anything in response. She spoke again. "Why don't we make a deal?"

"A deal? About what?" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your voice.

"Let me prove that I've changed, that I've improved, that I deserve a place in your life again. We can start slowly; I won't force anything and will respect any boundaries you want." The girl pleaded, almost clasping her hands and kneeling at your feet. "And if I do anything, anything at all, that makes you uncomfortable and hurts you, I'll leave you alone forever."

"What's the point of that?"

"To stop this doubt that I know we both have. Stop us from wondering about the 'what ifs' and really put to the test if I've changed. That's what you want, isn't it? To know if there's any chance the old Tara can come back? Well, that's all I want too."

You stared at her, clear doubt and apprehension in your eyes as you thought about the presented arguments. Tara's foot tapped rapidly on the floor, demonstrating her nervousness.

A few seconds passed until you spoke again. "What does this mean for us?"

Tara's expression softened as she understood your caution. It was understandable, your fear. "I don't know, but we can find out together. Do we have a deal?"

A few more seconds, and then, a nod.

"Deal."

#scream #scream vi #scream 2022 #scream x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x you #scream imagine #scream movies #scream franchise #✮: 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

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piedinthepiper · 3 months ago

Text

Your girl pt. 2 ☆

Yandere!Jungkook x Namjoons gf!reader

Summary: After the horrific stay at the resort you find it hard to forgive and forget. But when one thing leads to another you end up in the same position, but now without your boyfriends helping hand.

Warnings: noncon!, he’s waaaay crazier in this one, swearing, mention of mm, angst

Wc: 3.2k

| pt. 1 |

A/n: I’ve been so bad at writing lately, I’ve taken a little break so I really just needed to get this out. I’m working here and there on your reqs I just have no motivation. Hope you enjoy this tho, cause I do!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

“Have a good day, sweetheart.”

Namjoon said and kissed your forehead. You smiled at him. It was a calm Saturday morning. All you wanted was to cuddle up to your new fiancé, watch a few movies and eat snacks. But Namjoon was called into work for an emergency, so it looked like you would be watching and eating alone.

“Do you have to leave?”

You pouted at him as he started putting on his shoes. He smiled at you and kissed you softly on the lips, cupping your face.

“I really don’t want to.”

You nodded understandingly. He turned around to reach for his jacket, but found that the jacket he usually wore wasn’t were it was supposed to be. He reached for another one.

“By the way, do you think you can stop by Jungkooks place today? I left my jacket there last week and I need it for tonight.”

You looked at him, not sure what to answer. It was a year since the incident at the resort. But you still felt uncomfortable around Jungkook sometimes. Especially when you were alone with him.

“Baby, it’s been a year.”

“I know.”

You answered quickly, wiping your tired face with your hands.

“And he apologised. You were the one that told me to forgive him.”

You bit your lip, zoning out and focusing on the floor instead of replying.

“It’s fine, if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I’ll wear another coat tonight.”

He reassured you, before kissing your forehead yet again and opening the door.

“I’ll see you tonight, love you.”

He said before stepping outside and closing the door. You stood there for a few seconds. Still zoned out. Why were you so afraid of Jungkook? Like Namjoon said, he apologised. He told you he would never do it again. He would still be the same Jungkook you remembered from middle school. Right?

“I’m so sorry, y/n! Please- I don’t know what came over me!”

Jungkook was on the floor crying his eyes out, bowing at your feet. You had just told the guys what he had done after they had overheard parts of the conversation. Namjoon did not take it lightly, grabbing Jungkook and pushing him against the wall. He had screamed in his face, told him to say sorry to you, and to never get near you again. Once that was over Jungkook fell to his feet, and now he was on the floor, crying and begging.

“Please forgive me! I’m so stupid! I never meant for this to happen!”

You looked down at him. Still in only his wet bathing shorts. You sighed.

“Get up, Jungkook.”

You told him, and he finally looked up at you. His eyes were red and his eyelashes had started sticking together from all the tears. But he did listen, and he got up.

“Do you mind giving us some privacy?”

You asked kindly, and looked over at the three guys standing by the door. All were still in shock. Namjoon, who was standing in front of them with his arms crossed, looked back at them with a strict look. The guys trembled and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Come here.”

You said to Jungkook and opened your arms with a towel. He let you drape him in it, covering up his naked torso. You made him sit down on the bed, trying to calm him down.

“I forgive you, ok?”

“I don’t!”

Namjoon interrupted with his deep voice. You looked over at him.

“Namjoon please, he’s crying his eyes out.”

You told your boyfriend strictly.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. You know I would never do anything to ruin our friendship. But I was still stupid enough to do so.”

He bowed his head down, starting to cry even more. You sat down on the bed beside him.

“I promise this will be in the past. We can continue our friendship like this never happened, ok?”

His eyes lit up. How great.

You were outside Jungkooks apartment. You decided that this was the time you healed your relationship with him. You couldn’t keep running away from it. Either you followed your promise, or you would have to cut him out completely. One last chance. You rang his doorbell. It took a few seconds before his voice came through the speakers.

“Who is it?”

You turned towards the voice and went up to the camera.

“It’s me.”

You said and went really close to the little camera, trying to joke with him like the two of you always did. He didn’t laugh, he sounded surprised instead. But not in a good way.

“Y/n?! What are you doing here?”

He asked shocked. You took a step back.

“Can you just let me in? It’s raining!”

“Give me a second!”

Jungkook wasn’t expecting you. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but definitely not you. He knew what happened at the resort a year ago made you question him, even if you told him it was ok. So when you asked to come in he quickly found his abandoned sweatpants on the floor. He had definitely not been jerking off to your Instagram just minutes before you were outside his door. He placed the dishes hurriedly in the sink to hide them, before he ran over to the door and pressed the button. He straightened the pillows on the sofa while waiting for you to reach his apartment. A knock at the door. He combed his fingers through his hair before taking a deep breath.

“Hi!”

You went in for a hug, and he was honestly caught off guard. Something inside him felt like you hated him since the incident. He at least hated himself for revealing everything to you so quickly. If he could’ve just taken you out for a nice dinner and told you about his feelings in a romantic way, you would probably be his fiancé now, not Namjoons.

“Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.”

He said once you broke off the short hug, that he honestly wanted to last forever. You smelled so good, and only you could manage to look good in yoga pants and a hoodie. Namjoon’s hoodie he noted. You would look even better in his own.

“I brought you an iced americano.”

You said and handed him the drink. You were always so considerate.

“Such an angel.”

You laughed awkwardly at his statement and he mentally cursed himself.

“I just came to get Namjoon’s jacket. He said he left it here a week ago.”

He knew exactly what jacket you were talking about, but he gave you a puzzled look regardless.

“I don’t remember seeing a jacket.”

He told you as if he was completely clueless.

“Why don’t you come in? I’ll look for it after I’ve had the americano.”

You smiled at him and started removing your shoes.

“Great!”

The two of you sat down on his sofa. You took a sip of your iced tea before placing it on the table.

“So, why didn’t Namjoon come for his own jacket? Lazy move to send his own girlfriend for the job.”

He laughed. You laughed back before crossing your legs and getting more comfortable.

“Job emergency I’m afraid. He won’t be home until 8.”

He could tell it upset you.

“I’m more than just his girlfriend now you know.”

The disappointment on your face turned into giddiness as you looked at your hand, carrying a gorgeous ring.

“As his fiancé I’ll have to take the shit jobs as well.”

You said and laughed. You looked so good, Jungkook couldn’t help but look at you. It’s like he fell in love all over again every time you laughed.

“Wow, thanks y/n.”

He said sarcastically. You laughed even more.

“Let me see it.”

You stretched your arm towards him, letting him take your hand in his to inspect the expensive ring.

“Damn, that’s a nice ring.”

He pretended to inspect it for just a second longer. He liked the feeling of your soft hand in his.

“Well since you won’t be busy until 8, why don’t you stay here for a while? We can play video games and order some food later. Like back in the day.”

He saw a flash of doubt in your eyes. Was he too forward too soon? He was expecting a no, he was ready to go back to his room and jerk off to you yet again.

“Sure.”

You said and shrugged.

“But only if you cook me something. I’ve missed your food so much.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t understand how you do it? Everything you make is so good!”

You said and closed your eyes letting out a small satisfied moan. He let out a small laugh, adjusting his sweatpants after he felt them get tighter at your praise.

“What your fiancé can’t cook for you?”

He smirked. He knew Namjoon couldn’t cook, he just said it to tease you. And with the tilt of your head and upset eyes he knew he succeeded.

“Namjoon has many talents, cooking is not one of them.”

You laughed a little at your comment before taking another spoonful.

“If you were my fiancé I would’ve cooked for you every day.”

He tested the waters. Making sure to mumble, so that maybe you couldn’t even hear his remark. But you did. Of course you did. You were always so bright.

“Well you’re not.”

You answered bluntly. Jungkook felt his heart shatter at your words. He felt his blood boil. He made you dinner, how about a little gratitude?

“Could be.”

He quickly spit back, looking you deep in the eyes. You shook your head.

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

Your eyes didn’t back down, winning his little game as he broke the eye contact and grabbed your plate.

“Why don’t we play Mario kart? Still think you can beat me?”

He said while washing the dishes. He knew he couldn’t get too upset with you, cause then you’d leave. And maybe never come back.

“We both know you’re the one that needs to beat me. I win ever single time.”

He looked back at you, a competitive smile plastered on your face.

“You won’t win this time.”

Time passed, and you had successfully beaten him five times. You jumped up from the sofa once you saw the results, cheering loudly at your victory.

“Who won? Huh? Tell me, Jungkook!”

You teased him, as you sat back down again. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m just letting you win so you won’t feel bad.”

He said as he started looking through the maps for the next round. You didn’t answer him, in fact you went completely quiet. He looked over at you. You were focused on your phone, your nails tapping against the screen as you were texting.

“Which map do you want to do next?”

He asked a little louder, slightly annoyed that your attention wasn’t on him. You didn’t look up from your phone.

“Hmm.”

Was the only answer you gave him. He put his controller down on the table and took a sip from his glass of wine. He was clearly upset now that you were ignoring him. He looked back at you.

“Who are you texting?”

He asked in almost a sour tone. You looked briefly up at him, before looking back down at your phone.

“Just my mom.”

Relief washed over his body, thankfully you weren’t texting your fiancé. Of course he would let you text her. He would love your parents as his in-laws.

“Let’s play.”

He said playfully before stealing your phone out of your hands. You looked confused at him, before you understood what he did.

“Jungkook, give it back!”

You laughed as your arms stretched out for your phone. He laughed back as he moved his arm further away.

“Then get it.”

You shook your head but crawled closer to him, tickling his side. He moved his upper body even further away from you. You sighed, but continued the fight. Unconsciously placing one of your hands on his thigh for support, as you stretched out over him. Even if you didn’t notice, he noticed. He moved his hand even further away, wanting to see if you would touch him more.

“Oh my god, just give me the phone!”

And within a second you were basically straddling his lap. Your hand got ahold of your phone, and you were about to retreat. But Jungkook was quicker. In the heat of the moment, he let go of the phone and used both his hands to push you down into his crotch. A small hiss escaped his mouth as he felt your heat touch his clothed dick.

“What are you doing?”

You asked him, still with a playful tone as if you thought it was an accident. Your hand found his that was tightly holding your hips as if they would run away if he let go. He knew you might run away if he let you go now.

“Jungkook, let go of me.”

The playfulness in your tone had started to fade. You started wiggling, trying to get out of his grasp. But stopped quickly once a moan escaped his lips.

“What the fuck!”

He didn’t know what to do, he had done it again and you were about to leave yet again.

“I won’t let you go, y/n! Not this time.”

You jumped as he rapidly stood up. His strong arms lifted you swiftly over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. It took a few seconds for you to comprehend what he was saying, but you quickly started to protest when you caught up.

“Let me down!”

You banged your fists against his large back. Wiggling the best you could. It was starting to freak you out that he seemed so serious, and that he was carrying you towards his bedroom.

“Jungkook, seriously! It’s not funny anymore.”

You said as he opened the door to his bedroom. It took maximum two seconds for him to throw you harshly down onto his bed. The bed creaked loudly at the impact.

“It was never a joke, y/n. I’m sick of pretending like I don’t fucking need you to be my girl!”

The last time you saw him this upset was at the resort.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to argue with you right now.”

You started scooting towards the end of the bed. When Jungkook moved quickly towards the door you stopped in confusion.

“I’m not letting you leave.”

Your blood ran cold as you realised you could not be saved by Namjoon anymore. You didn’t tell him, or anyone for that matter, that you were going to Jungkook’s. Your breathing got heavier by the second as it dawned on you. You were fucked.

“You’re not leaving here until you understand that we’re meant for each other!”

He raised his voice even more now. Yelling at you in a way that made you look away. He scared you.

“I- I can’t fucking stand seeing you with him anymore. I’m sorry, y/n but I hate Namjoon for stealing you away from me. I hate that he made this so complicated. We were always meant to be. I’m sorry-“

“It’s ok, Jungkook. No need to get upset.”

You tried to calm him. Your fear speaking for you. His eyes met yours.

“Really?”

He asked, his eyes were glossy. You swallowed thickly, but nodded.

“It’s ok.”

Was all you could mutter. You practically jumped out of your skin as he crawled onto the bed. Your entire body stiffened as he sat down beside you. His arm swung around you like it belonged there. Uncomfortable silence filled the room for a beat.

“So we can be together now? You and me? Is that what you’re saying?”

He pulled you closer and closer, forcing you to lean into him. You looked down at the bed, simply not daring to answer the question truthfully. It didn’t help when you noticed the very visible tent in his grey sweatpants. You had to run.

“Of course.”

You managed to say, using all your willpower to look up at him and smile.

“I just really have to pee, ok?”

The panic in your voice was almost nowhere to be heard. You tried moving off the bed, but his grip was too strong.

“You’re being honest, right?”

He asked. You nodded yet again. Your focus turned to your nails. You had to look away from either his face or his hard on.

“Prove it.”

He almost whispered in your ear.

“Kiss me.”

His words were simple, but enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry, I really have to-“

He grabbed your face and crashed his lips onto yours. You realised that you had no other choice but to kiss back passionately, and so you did. You placed your hand on his chest and deepened the kiss. Putting on your best performance. He moaned into the kiss. Finally he thought to himself. You tried pulling away, but were only met with a hand at the back of your head. Your heart was beating out of your chest for all the wrong reasons. You needed to convince him to let you leave the room. And with that you dreaded slowly moving your hands down his torso. Another moan escaped his lips when you placed a firm hand over his erection. That was the signal for his hands to start roaming as well, and once he tried to push you over his lap you finally got to pull away. You had never considered yourself an actress, but in that moment every instinct in your body told you to give the best performance of your life.

“I really want to fuck you, kookie.”

You whispered to him seductively. He started nodding hysterically.

“Do it, please just do it baby!”

You pouted at him.

“I just really have to go first. I won’t be able to enjoy our first time fully if I can’t use the toilet first.”

He pushed a strand of hair out of your face and smiled warmly towards you. To an outsider the two of you looked like nothing but lovers.

“Be quick, I want you so bad.”

You smiled and voluntarily pecked him on the lips to lay it on thick. You swayed your hips as you walked towards the door.

“Leave the bedroom door open.”

He said behind you. His lovey-dovey voice was suddenly really strict. He could see the bathroom door from the bed, he didn’t completely trust you. But you did as he said. Your heart was beating fast as you realised you could reach the front door if you just ran for it. And so you did.

“Y/n!”

An infuriated voice yelled after you. You heard his heavy footsteps hit the floor, sprinting closer. But you didn’t look back, you couldn’t do that now.

“You fucking bitch!”

A wave of relief washed over you as you reached for the door handle. You managed to pull it down and open it slightly before two large arms wrapped around you, slamming you against the door. You were able to reach the door, but not able to step outside the door.

“You fucking liar! You lied to me!”

He was beyond pissed off now. There was no calming him now, you had never seen him like this.

“I showed you my love and you just fucking used it to get away from me.”

He pressed you further and further against the cold door.

“I’ll show you y/n. I’ll fucking show you that you belong to me and me only. You’re my girl!”

——————————————————————————

Tag list:

@m7omo @vkjmjjk @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @darkuni63 @kimedicii @luvaryu @aenishas @milajeon @zera10

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

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jeanmoreautemple · 5 months ago

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Thea Muldani: a rant

I feel weird about Thea but I can’t really put into words exactly why? So I’m writing down some things I’ve thought.

I honestly didn’t think much about her before TSC, like she was okay (I wish she’d been introduced earlier tho or that she hadn’t graduated already so she was a recurrent Raven player or something).

After reading the extra content I wasn’t bothered about the age gap between her and Kevin but yes a little bit about the fact that Kevin was fourteen when they first met + the -you fuck like a virgin, maybe some practice will make you better at it- comment that Nora included. It was uuhh weird but the rest of the Kevthea story was okay, and Thea is 100% not a groomer. Plus, Nora technically deleted the extra content so in theory nothing there is canon yet.

Now in TSC we get her sole appearance in TKM from Jean’s POV, who has known her since he was fourteen (like Kevin- this is important to keep in mind). The scene starts out cute! We find out she took him under her wing and even had nicknames for him like Paris and her little duckling🥰. So the fourteen year boy that just arrived from france with broken English looked up to her, Thea was ~21 at this point.

We know Jean is going through HELL during this time:

And we also know the Moriyamas were always particularly cruel with Jean, getting more physical him than with Kevin. Even though It’s said that Riko would torture Jean and Kevin (broken hand incident) in private, hence the other Ravens not knowing the whole picture, how can a fourteen year old kid hide such pain? But apparently , as we later find out, Thea was too deep into the Evermore raven cult mindset that she didn’t find anything strange about the coach and Rikk’s behavior towards Jean.

At 15 Jean is given a number and place in the perfect court, but only at 16 joins the lineup. He gets a lot of hate, especially from the other defensemen, whom Thea works with:

Although the Ravens are know for being extremely violent training, at least in the court Thea must have noticed that the defense line were especially brutal to Jean. Or SOMETHING.

But here comes the worst part: during this same year Riko forces Jean to sleep with 5 defensemen. By the time Jean is a junior most of these have graduated which means they were 20 or older. So Thea had been playing with each of these guys for at least 2 years (except for Grayson), she knew them.

They went on to joke and talk about the whole ordeal as Jean paying for his perfect court number. Thea also being in the defense line could have heard all of this first hand, we don’t know. But It’s so widely talked about that it reaches Tetsuji and we do know Thea witnessed Jean’s punishment:

Coincidentally Thea starts a sexual and emotional relationship with Kevin this year (it’s her last too).

So here’s the part that made me dislike Thea very much. In TKM she goes to Kevin demanding answers, Kevin then brings her to Jean, who is looking like this:

It’s been three years since she graduated but she’s still wearing her Raven number in a necklace, and when she sees Jean’s state in TSC she comments how if Kevin hadn’t said anything she’d think it normal:

By now it’s clear she at 26 is still 100% brainwashed, but this next line of hers cemented it:

YOUR OLD TRICKS ?!

So let’s break that down:

1. The immigrant kid (16!) she watched over for two years from age 14 to 16 suddenly starts having sex with members of HER (23!) defense line who are all around her age and openly hate him for 5 consecutive nights and she doesn’t suspect anything?

2. Said defensemen then brag and shame Jean afterwards calling him a whore, which leads to Jean getting beaten half to dead by their coach and still nothing?

3. Years later she recalls the incident as Jean being up to his little tricks and being rightfully beaten to a pulp?!!!!

I can’t. I know she’s also a cult victim but no. It was super common for Ravens to have hate sex with each other but her being close to Kevin (and somewhat Jean) during the time Jean’s (a 16 year old!) assaults were happening and still remaining this clueless… I’m sure she must be lovable for both Kevin and Jean to respect and care for her so much but her one scene convinced me she’s way too deep into the Raven spirit and her presence around Kevin and Jean would be just so harmful.

But I have to give credit when it’s due, apparently after some hours with Kevin and 7 years later she believes her King broke Kevin’s hand:

In conclusion:

Thea is absolutely no groomer but if one takes a look at her attitude towards Jean’s sexual history when he was 16 and how her relationship with Kevin was happening simultaneously, her you fuck like a virgin, maybe some practice will make you better at it and tell me you weren’t up to your old tricks comment combo, it all makes me dislike her. Cause you’d think someone who at 22-23 was dating a boy who had just turned legal would be careful or mature enough to choose her wording better when talking about the sexual activity between a boy close in age to her own boyfriend with people around HER age, but nope. The fact that Kevin married her, has a child and lives happily ever after with her seems unbelievable to me.

PS: Her and Kevin’s (we don’t know if he believes Riko) apparent ignorance or lack of suspicion of Jean’s freshman year assault was the most hurtful part of TSC tbh (not counting Elodie). Imagine having the closest people to you misunderstand/ believe lies about such a traumatic event. I guess this is why Nora didn’t include a Andrew POV, I would have died or wanted to kill Nicky and Aaron for not looking deeper into Andrew’s attitude.

#jean moreau #the sunshine court #kevin day #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tsc #Thea Muldani #analysis

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drawing-prompt-s · 9 months ago

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GoFundMe: Getting the kitten to the vet...

for a rabies shot, FIV testing, and a possible upper respiratory infection!

So someone sent in the last $305 I needed while I was asleep. I'm transferring it to my account now which means I'm a) shutting off the GFM as soon as the transfers process and b) taking in the kitten as soon as the money becomes available to me - so likely by Friday I'll take her in, or Saturday or Monday (they do half days Saturday, and are closed Monday).

GoFundMe Link Paypal Link

Venmo Link Cashapp Link

Multiple payment options available because I am typically asked for alternatives to GFM and PP.

$350 / $350

-------------

INFORMATION + VIDEO UNDER THE CUT!

From the GoFundMe description:

Hello!

So, unplanned, there is a new kitten in the house as of Feb. 22, 2024. (Not Jolene's, she is fixed). When at my friend's house - where I will be moving in a few months - we found out that a cat that comes to visit often is not only owned, but a mom. However, the neighbor doesn't want the kittens, so he always puts them outside and leaves them there. I could no, in my right mind, leave the kitten outside by a trashcan and under a tire in February of all months, so I brought her home.

So far I have treated her for hookworms, given her the vaccines I can do myself, and looked into getting a spay voucher from one of the local shelters. The kitten is roughly 3 months old.

However, current concerns are that she may have an upper respiratory infection (and there is always the concern that she could be FIV+). She has an inflamed eye with a regular and concerning amount of discharge and has for a few days. I have also caught her sneezing and she has started coughing on more than a few occasions. She also has a few other signs of sickness - anemia, the runs, and some blood spotted in it. If it is a URI, I need to catch it as fast as possible because I also have Jolene, my 3 year old cat. She absolutely also needs FIV testing and a rabies shot because of that, and because where we are moving there are other cats.

Jolene and the kitten have both been getting along well. The kitten loves to follow her around and Jolene acts more like the disgruntled big sister (don't let her fool you, I have caught them playing regularly - she just needs her alone adult time too).

I have already altered a bit of my projected finances and removed money from my savings to care for the kitten and help her. But there is only so far that can go as I also need to be able to afford gas, food, and furniture for the upcoming move (I'm going to start buying things soon so I can put it together and move my stuff prior to the official move date). I was trying to put off a full vet visit until sending the kitten in for a spay, but with her eye and the possibility of infection spreading to other cats, it can no longer wait.

I am shutting off this GFM as soon as I reach the goal. The vet said to budget for a little more than $300, between the base cost of a visit, FIV testing, rabies, and potential treatment for an Upper Respiratory Infection- assuming it's nothing too major. And I added a little more to what I am expecting because GFM does take a fee from donations.

If the kitten does end up being FIV+ we do have rehoming options available or I will find someone better suited to handle an FIV+ cat (either already having one of their own or a home with no pets).

I tried to take a video of the eye, but as you can imagine, a 3 month old kitten isn't the most keen on staying still, haha.

-------------

Let me add in the breakdown as well, now that I think about it:

Base cost for my vet to see a new cat (even as a pre-established client with other cats treated there): $100

FIV testing: $40

Rabies (and other vaccines I may be missing I was unable to do myself): $35 - $45

And the vet recommended budgeting about $100 for medications depending on what they find (if she still has worms, if she has other parasites due to being outside untreated, if she has a URI like the current concern is): $100

The rest is tax, the % upcharge for using a card, and to negate the fees that GFM with-drawls from each donation.

#prompt prophet #promphet #gofundme #mutual aid #kitten #cat

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green-thots · 1 year ago

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That Fucking Compression Shirt - Ran Takahashi x Reader

A/N - I’ll be honest this took absolutely forever but my absolute obsession with Ran Takahashi overpowered my writer’s block. Also I’m pissed that Tumblr gets rid of my indents every time I take a story from my docs and I’m too lazy to go back I and add it again.

Warnings - 18+ content, smut, reader is thirsty, lowkey choking, use of “good girl”, brat taming, & edging (if I missed any please tell me)

WC - 2782

I used to hate co-ed practice. The gym would always smell like ass and if it weren’t for the combination of my defense and our libero’s, we never would come close to winning a scrimmage.

But, dating a member of the opposite team makes practice just a bit more fun, especially when he decides to wear that oh-so-slutty compression shirt that he knows drives me crazy.

I’m convinced he only started wearing that to co-ed practice because on our first date, after a few too many drinks, I admitted that I would 100% jump on his dick if he ever wore his practice compression shirt around me ever again.

We’ve been practicing hitting lines for the past fifteen minutes and with the coaches on our ass after the last match, there’s no end in sight. My only saving grace is getting to watch sweaty Ran smack the ball about as hard as I’d like him to smack my ass, but he already knows that.

His shorts are shorter and tighter than usual, allowing me the wonderful view of his quads as he jumps into the air to reach the top of the net. But somehow, my view just gets better. His long sleeves make his biceps look large enough to choke me, which they are, and his abs tight enough to ride. I’ve seen his high school pictures, he definitely grew out of his twink look alike phase.

“I can smell the thirst from here,” Yuji mutters, snapping me out of my trance-like state. He’s standing with his hands on his hips with that self assured smirk on his face.

I turn to him with a glare, “I’m not thirsting over him, he just looks good.”

“Oh, you’re definitely thirsting over him. You’ve been eye-fucking him for practically the entire practice.” Yamauchi chimes in, popping into line behind Yuji and I.

“You two are absolutely insufferable,” I grumble, turning back around to the front of the line.

They both let out a laugh before Yuji spits out, “We’re just simply stating what’s true.” Earning an eye roll from me.

“Alright everybody, we’re switching to digs for a bit,” Coach yells, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention, “y/n, you’re up first.”

Goddamnit, this woman is going to be the death of me. It’s almost like she knows my head is as far away from volleyball right now as physically possible.

I walk into the middle of the court as Ishikawa is getting ready to spike at me.

Ran just so happens to be directly left of me so I bend a little lower than I normally would for a dig just to give him a better view of the ass he’s left his mark on. I smirk at him and his brows furrow, a dangerous glint in his eyes. To an outsider, he looks pissed, but I know that he’s just worked up and I’m more than happy to let him take his anger out on me once we get home.

Ishikawa approaches, swings, and slams the ball down toward the ground. Ishikawa is good, but I’ve been perfecting my digs for years. Just in time, I get my arms under the ball, popping it up into the setters box. The impact stings like a bitch but you get used to it when you’ve been practicing with Olympic level players for almost two years.

I walk back over next to Ran, Yuji taking his place next for digs.

“Stop being a brat,” he mutters in my ear. He side eyes me with a smirk on his lips.

“But it’s just so much fun watching you get all worked up,” I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. He glares at me, adjusting his shorts. Yeah, I knew you couldn’t resist me.

“You won’t be having this much fun when we get home,” he bites out, careful to not let anyone else hear our conversation.

After a brutal practice, filled with many more lust filled glares from my lovely boyfriend, I’m shaking in anticipation as I take my gear off and get ready to go home.

Ran walks over to my place on the floor, duffle bag in hand, “Let’s get out of here.”

I nod my head, pulling on my crocs and using his outstretched hand to pull me up off the ground.

“We should all go out for sushi,” Ogawa exclaims, murmurs of agreement sounding off around the gym.

Ran begins to pull me toward the gym doors, “we can’t, we already have plans for the night.” Ogawa pouts in disappointment, he’s always been pretty close with Ran.

As Ran and I walk out the door, Yuji shouts loud enough for the entire gym to hear, “try not to leave any visible marks this time!” He really never has any shame, even at the expense of me, his self-titled ‘best friend.’

Ran muffles a snort with his other hand. I throw up a middle finger behind me as I walk out the door.

Yuji knows Ran heavily enjoys marking, since after our last team beach trip, I had forgotten about the copious amount of hickies on my thighs until Yuji started cackling hysterically.

“I’m gonna kill him for that,” I say as we step out of the elevator into the parking garage.

I barely even get a second to kick off my shoes and drop my bag before I’m being slammed up against the wall, Ran’s lips on mine. His kisses are hungry and devouring.

Pulling away from my lips just barely an inch, he mutters, “why do you always make me pop a boner whenever we’re around friends?”

Although it’s most likely a rhetorical question and he’s not really expecting an answer, I tease, “Because I know you’ll punish me as soon as we get home and we both know I enjoy your punishments much more than I hate them.”

He gives me a knowing look then presses his lips back on mine, biting slightly on my lower lip. “You’ve got such a dirty little mouth on you,” he says against my lips.

I smile, playing with the hem of his shirt, starting to ride it up over his stomach. I drag his shirt up slowly. Over the entirety of his abs, up to his chest, and over his shoulders, pulling it over his head and outstretched arms, throwing it somewhere across the room. Usually, he wouldn’t even let me get this far. He would pin my hands to the wall before I could even touch him and stop any seductive plan I had my mind set on.

He moves his hands to fondle my ass through my shorts, his lips traveling down onto the sweet spot where my jaw connects with my neck. I throw my head back and let out a whimper. It’s almost like he knows my body as well as he knows his own.

I run my hands through the roots of his thick waves, tugging slightly when I reach the crown of his head. He lets out a low growl, continuing his assault on my neck that is sure to leave marks but looking up at me in warning.

I know I’m beginning to tug at the ends of the already short leash he’s letting me have, but it’s just so much fun when he gets mad.

“Jump,” he growls, his face still buried in my neck. Not wanting to push my limits, I oblige. I jump and wrap my legs around his waist, his hands still planted firmly on my ass, holding me in place.

He quickly moves us out of the entryway, up the stairs, and into our bedroom without much hassle. He throws me down onto the bed and lurks over me. I think this might just be my favorite version of Ran. His hair fluffy and wild from my hands just moments ago. He’s breathing heavily and his abs are glistening with the still-lingering sweat from practice. And to put the cherry on top, there is a very obvious tent in his pants, as if the gray sweats didn’t already leave more than enough to the imagination. He’s a heavenly sight. I would even go as far to say he’s god-like in my eyes.

He leans down even closer to me and swipes off my shirt and sports bra in one smooth motion. My nipples harden at the sudden rush of cold air from the constant use of the air conditioner.

Softly but so demanding at the same time, Ran puts one large hand around my throat. He doesn’t apply much pressure, but he uses my neck to push me down flat onto the bed, chiming, “You’re so naughty, aren’t ya’ babe?”

I try to nod with what little motion of my head his hand allows. If I wasn’t dripping while staring at him during practice then I sure am now.

He glides the hand around my throat down to fondle my chest, using his other hand to prop himself up over me.

“I know how much you love it when I feel you up,” He purrs, his breath hot over my stomach, “but I don’t think you deserve that.”

“You’re just gonna keep torturing me all night?” I whine, threading my fingers through his hair once again.

“Maybe,” he says, pausing to leave a kiss right above the waistband of my spandex, “I guess that will depend on how good you are for the remainder of the night.”

With the hand he was using on my chest, he pushes my legs apart. He starts to rub my inner thigh, so close enough to where he knows I want him but so far it’s frustrating the hell out of me. I huff in annoyance and he lets out a short, raspy laugh.

“Well I’m very happy my pain brings you amusement,” I snark, pulling his hair enough to make him jolt a bit.

His eyes are glazed when he looks up at me from in between my legs, “Based on the way your pussy is soaking through your shorts, I know you’re enjoying this.”

Okay, maybe he does have a point.

He grasps the waistband of my shorts and panties, letting his fingers brush against my bikini line. I lift my hips up off the bed, giving Ran the chance to tug them off.

“Motherfucker,” he mutters, just barely loud enough for me to hear, “you must be really worked up.” He runs a finger through the slick that has already gathered at my entrance, a devilish smirk on his face. The sadistic side of him enjoys how much he affects me when in reality he is doing so little.

He leans closer and closer until his nose brushes my clit. He licks a painfully slow stripe up my cunt pulling a moan of both pleasure and annoyance from my lips. He hums in response to my noises, his voice vibrating my pussy in the best way. At an almost torturously slow pace, he circles my clit with his tongue.

“Please,” I beg, “just go faster.”

“Only good girls get to feel good,” Ran hums against me, his words barely even register in my head as he slides a long finger inside of me. He takes it slow but finds my g-spot with the tip of his finger almost immediately.

He thrusts his finger into me, slow enough to tease, but fast enough to keep me from complaining. He slips in a second finger and then a third, keeping pace by upping the speed of the circles around my clit.

I arch my hips closer to him, pressing his face harder into my pussy and trying to get his fingers to go as deep as they can.

With all the anticipation from the day and the yearning from not getting the chance to fuck in almost two weeks, I’m already on the edge.

“Oh my- Fuck,” I moan, squeezing my eyes shut, “I think I’m gonna cum.” Immediately, he stops everything. He stands up, pulling his fingers out of me. They’re slick and nearly dripping. He makes a show out of slowly licking them clean, his glazed over eyes staring so deeply that I’m sure at that moment he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Now why’d you have to go and stop? We were just getting to the fun part,” I pout, throwing my arms over my head. God, being a brat really is my favorite.

He’s stepping out of his sweats and boxers, “Didn’t I tell you that you weren’t going to cum unless you prove you can be good?” Ran shoots back with a hint of humor in his voice. His cock is rock hard, resting against his thigh and the tip is beginning to drip with precum. I just know he must be itching to fuck me into next week right here, right now but he’s holding back all for the sake of teaching me a lesson when we both know I’ll be right back to being a brat within a few days.

He strokes his cock slowly, letting the tip drag up and down my pussy. He uses his other hand to squeeze my thigh, surely leaving bruises that will be hard to cover up during tomorrow’s practice.

“I promise I’ll be good, babe, just please fuck me,” I give him my best puppy dog eyes as I beg. We both know I’m full of shit but Ran takes immense pleasure in watching me beg for just an ounce of pleasure from him.

He lets out a laugh that I truly believe rivals the epitome of happiness and finally slips the tip of his cock into my cunt, “Lucky for you I might cum in my pants if I don’t, but I haven’t decided if you deserve to cum yet.” He’s fucking cruel but I love it.

He slides all seven inches to the hilt, filling me up so good. Although we’ve been fucking like rabbits almost daily since we started dating nearly two years ago, I’ll never get tired of the way he makes me feel so whole. He starts thrusting slowly, his cock head nearly bruising my cervix with every thrust. His hands now rest on my hips, his fingertips digging into my skin, leaving red marks that are sure to turn black and blue eventually.

A mix of my own moans and Ran’s echo around the room as he picks up the speed of his thrusts. His head is thrown back and his eyes are pressed shut. In turn, I’m gazing at the beautiful sight of Ran in pure bliss before me, which enhances my own pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck, y/n,” he moans, his eyes now open and looking down at where our bodies are connected, “god you feel so good.” By now, he’s pounding me so hard I might just struggle to walk in the morning. He has the mix of fast and deep that we both enjoy perfected to the point where I’m at the edge again after only a few minutes.

“I’m gonna cum,” I stutter out, feeling so much pleasure that it takes too much brain power to form just one coherent sentence.

He’s gazing into my eyes now, “I’m nearly there, just wait for me.” If it was even possible to go faster, then he’s picking up his pace to that point, fucking me so fast that my body is vibrating at a frequency that I didn’t even know was possible until now.

“Ran, please, I’ve been so good” I beg, tears in my eyes from pleasure so intense it’s borderline painful. He grunts, his jaw clenched as he reaches to rub my clit with one hand.

“Come on now then, sweets,” he says. I can feel his cock pulsating inside of me telling me that he won’t last much longer either.

With one more thrust, the stimulation becomes too much, pushing me over the edge. I cum with a moan so loud the neighbors two floors down are sure to file a noise complaint again.

Within seconds, Ran is cumming, too, spilling so deeply inside me. He slows to a stop, his cock still buried inside my pussy. His breathing is heavy and the way he’s looking at me can only be described as love in its highest form.

“Maybe you should start being a brat more often if it’s going to result in some of the most mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had,” He jokes, pulling out of me to rest on the bed next to me.

“Well then maybe you should start wearing that compression shirt around me more often if you wanna get lucky.”

#ran takahashi x reader #ran takahashi #yuji nishida #Akihiro yamauchi #smut

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grey342 · 1 year ago

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Daddy's home

baby daddy phil x reader

synopsis - phil picking up your daughter but his car breaks down and is insisting to stay the night.

warnings - MDNI 18+ content, masturbation (F), being caught, Oral (F receiving), P in V and slightly possessive!Phil.

authors note - *insert 'Hey Daddy' by Usher* - p.s this was waaay longer than i expected it to be so sorry not sorry :)

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

He's late again.

You'd think after nearly a year he would have the drop off and pick up times down to a tee but no.

Your daughter was sat watching her favourite tv show whilst you paced in front of your window, constantly checking your phone for any new texts or calls but that was wishful thinking.

This is always how it goes. He turns up late, blames traffic, flirts with you and he always tries to get his 'goodbye kiss from both his girls' whilst you’re shoving him out the door.

You and Phil have known each other since high school. You've always been pulled to each other like a moth to a flame. Always on and off, one week you'd be the happiest couple on campus and the next you were screaming at each other in between classes.

This constant cycle followed you all the way through college too until, you ended up seeing those two pink lines. When you told him he was over the moon. However, the novelty of family life wore off three months in and you came up with this co-parenting plan that you have to this day.

Being too caught up your thoughts, you didn't hear his car pull up on your drive. It's only when he knocks on the door you actually realise he's here.

"You're late. Again." You say opening the door.

"Aww, now that's not a nice way to greet me. Is it sweetheart?" He says looking you up and down, and licking his lips.

"Don't call me that and stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" He replies, changing his position to leaning on the door frame with his signature smirk plastered on his face.

You gulp and feel a shudder spread it’s way down your spine.

"She's waiting for you in the living room." You manage to get out, trying to avoid his gaze.

He chuckles and enters the house but not without "accidentally" brushing his hand against your arm. You take a deep breath in trying to compose yourself because you were not letting him know what kind of effect he still has on you. Even though, you're almost 100% sure he knows.

"Hey baby, ah daddy missed you so much. Have you been taking care of mommy like a good girl hm?" He coos to your daughter, looking straight into your eyes.

"Here's her bag," you hand him a pink bag with all of her things, "I need her back here by two on Friday. It has to be two it can't be any later." You declare.

"Yeah, yeah i know." He mutters still looking at you.

"Good. Bye baby mommy loves you so much, i'll see you Friday," you give her a kiss on the cheek, " be good for daddy." You hear him take a sharp inhale after that last statement.

He makes his way out the house and you stand in the doorway to wave goodbye. But when Phil tries to start the car up it backfires. You see his confused expression as he tries again and does the same thing.

After a couple attempts he opens the car door and makes his way to the other side to get the baby out.

"What do you think you're doing?" You shout out to him.

"I'm gonna have to spend the night," sensing you're about to retaliate he continues, "no one’s gonna come out this late just to check the engine. It's only one night. I'll sleep in the guest room and i'll deal with her if and when she wakes up okay?"

"Okay." You sigh, giving in.

"Good girl." He says walking past you and into the house.

It's gonna be a long night.

...

It's only when you hear your daughter go down for the night and the guest bedroom door close you can finally relax. You don't know how he does it but even after all these years, he still gets you hot under the collar. In more ways than one.

"Fuck." you whispered. All this time you were thinking about Phil and now your panties had a small damp patch. You decided to just ignore it and go to sleep but it wasn't that easy.

After lots of tossing and turning you chose to just give in. Reaching your hand down you began to rub slow circles on your clit through your panties, letting out a sigh of relief.

You began to think about Phil. Every little detail that you know and love. His soft hair that you loved to grab and slightly pull when he was eating you out. His beautiful ocean blue eyes that would burn holes into your back when he was pounding you from behind. His hands. God you loved those hands. The way they would be an expert at everything they did and the veins that lightly protruded through the skin.

You began to rub faster and harder. Panting now. But there was something missing. Without realising, you broke into a small chant of his name. Barely whispering it as if it were a secret you wouldn't even tell the devil.

"Phil.. Phil," they started to get louder and louder with each one, "Phil.."

"Yes?" A voice in the dark whispered back.

You squealed, immediately sitting up and turning your dim, bed side lamp on. Seeing him stood there with no shirt on and grey sweatpants with a growing tent in them.

"What the hell are you doing!" You spoke, not too loudly to not wake the baby.

"Oh baby, how iv'e missed those sounds God, you have no idea." he states walking closer to the bed.

"Phil, I-I can ex-"

" There's no need. Just," he takes a deep breath, "lift up the covers and let me see what we're dealing with mkay?" He says raising an eyebrow.

"Wha- What? No!"

"Come on, stop kidding yourself. We both know you need me and I need you. Just one more time hm? for old times sake?" He says now sat on the end of the bed.

The more you think about it, one more time wouldn't hurt. It would get it out of your system and maybe you would finally be able to move on from each other.

"Okay." You breathe out. He looks at you whilst licking his lips.

"That's my girl"

Wasting no time he instantly leans over connecting your lips as his hands find sanctuary in your hair and yours on his chest. He slowly moves forward laying you down in the process and began kissing, nipping and sucking your neck. Your breaths turning into pants.

You feel his hands pushing the bottom of your shirt up, indicating that he wants it off. You carefully lift yourself up and take the shirt off revealing to him that you are wearing no bra.

"Jesus fucking Christ" he mumbles, staring right at your chest. He looks up at you his eyes never leaving yours as he begins kissing your right boob with his hand groping the left.

He smirks when he begins to hear the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. He then takes your nipple into his mouth and began to lightly suck it, now pinching the other one with his index finger and thumb. He switches over repeating the process.

He slowly starts to kiss down your stomach and kisses the stretch marks that were left behind after your daughter.

"You're beautiful. Every single inch of you." He declares looking into your eyes. He goes further down until he kisses your clit through your panties.

You suck in a deep breath as he smiles looking at your face. He slowly pulls down your panties but then wastes no time latching on to your clit and sucking.

He lets out a deep groan and you give him a quiet moan in return. He then shoves his index and middle finger into you beginning to move them in and out of your sopping cunt.

"Oh fuck.." You whimper.

"I know baby, I know.. But I gotta prep you it's been a while." He murmurs back to you.

"Phil, please.. I need you," you sigh deeply, "now."

"Yes ma'am." He says whilst pulling his pants and boxers down. You sit up lightly and your eyes widen. You could never forget how big he is but it still takes the breath from your lungs.

He rubs the tip along your slit then slowly pushes himself in. You both let out a moan at the same time as he fills you up. He starts to move in and out of you slowly, testing the waters.

When he realises you're okay he starts to move faster and harder, knowing exactly what gets you going. Your moans, his grunts and the sound of skin slapping, being the only thing you can hear.

"Fuck what I said before," he says through gritted teeth, "i'm not going anywhere. Oh shit. You're mine and i'm yours."

"Phil," you moan, "i'm getting close." You wrap your legs around his torso and dig your nails into his back.

"I know, shit, me too baby. Me too." He brings his hand in between your bodies to rub your clit. You let out a loud whine in response.

"At the same time, okay." He stated.

He begins to rut into your faster, his fingers also speeding up. Your nails dig deeper into his back as he shoves his head into your neck. His moans and whimpers being right next to your ear.

"Oh fuck..Phil."

"Let go baby, let go." As soon as he says that your eyes roll back into your head, letting the pleasure take over you.

"Fuck." He drawls out as his cum fills you up.

He pulled your panties and pj bottoms back up and slumped beside you, tucking you into his side.

"I meant every word i said, i'm done with this bullshit we're meant to be together and you know it." He declares.

"Can we at least go out on a date first?" You question.

"Woah, that might be pushing it." He says, hiding his smirk.

"Phil." You scold.

"I'm fucking with you," he chuckles, "of course we'll go on a date." He finishes with a peck on your lips

"But you're paying" You slap him on the chest, trying not to smile, as he laughs.

#phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #smut #the hangover #hangover #x reader #grey342

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arcanestage · 2 years ago

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THESE ALLERGIES! THESE FEELINGS!

characters: yuno / fuegoleon / nozel x gn!reader

summary: you keep having these brief but pretty intense allergic reactions when they come near you and perhaps the only cure is to confess and tell them about your feelings. (antihistamines won’t work sorry!)

a/n: inspired by marta cabrera from knives out (2019) where she literally vomits every time she tells a lie. this is 100% crack like i don’t even know what is going on

also hello sorry i haven't posted anything since *checks notes* january of last year ok anyways enjoy!

yuno

the exact moment you felt your heart beating erratically every time you look at yuno, you knew it was over for you. you were in love and hated every second of it.

it started out as harmless little sneezes with you sniffing every now and then. but then as the days went by, your symptoms started to become bothersome and pretty intense. intense in a way that mere eye contact with him would set off your allergies. crazy, right?

at one of your missions, he flew right beside you on the way to the location. you sneezed so hard you fell off of your broom. yuno, of course, having lightning speed reflexes, swooped you up before you could hit the ground.

these feelings of yours will get you killed quite literally.

the very close proximity to him, however, triggered a massive wave of sneezing.

“y/n, are you alright?”

“fine, fine.” you waved him off with your hand. “must be the awful weather.”

you were so embarrassed you couldn’t even look at him. you needed to look unbothered though, so you got up but felt pretty lightheaded and with knees wobbling. yuno grasped your forearm to try and steady you.

“t-thanks,” you reeled back, suddenly feeling something itchy. true enough, rashes were forming on the area on your forearm where yuno had touched.

you muttered curses under your breath. yuno said nothing but was quite worried upon seeing you distressed.

you took a deep breath and clasped your hands together. “you can go on and catch up with the rest of the gang. i’ll just fly back to the base and get some rest,”

“let me accompany you th—”

“NO!” you blurted out a little too loudly.

“no,” you say again, this time more composed.

“okay,” he said, ever so stoically, and then handed you your broom. “page me if you need anything,”

what are you, my boyfriend? you thought.

“what?”

so you might’ve said that out loud. whoops!

you pretended not to hear and instead tried to mount yourself on your broom. yuno is usually not one to pry or meddle into other people’s business. unfortunately for you, today is not that day.

“y/n.” he grabbed ahold of your wrist. “what did you mean by that?”

you pulled your hand back out of reflex but yuno’s grip only tightened.

rashes were forming on your wrist and they were starting to get itchy. you sighed really loudly.

“it means that you are not my boyfriend and therefore not required to act so concerned about me,” you huffed, your impatience growing each second. “can i go now?”

yuno glitched for a minute; no movement, no reply, nothing. he was still holding onto your hand but you felt his grip loosen.

“do you…” he hesitated for a bit. “do you want me to be… your boyfriend?”

oh you felt like you were going to be sick.

much to your horror (and yuno’s), you were caught up in a seemingly neverending loop of sneezing.

yuno kind of panicked, the shock very much evident in his features.

“let me call mimosa. i’m sure th—”

“no it’s okay! *sneeze* i know how to stop it,”

“okay. how can i be of help then?”

“just… listen,”

a slight pause and then…

“i like you. more than squadmates, more than even being friends. i wanna be with you but like if you aren’t into me that way then that’s cool too like i’d be okay with us being friends i guess—” you rambled nonstop, stumbling over your words.

before you could continue, yuno suddenly pulled you into his arms. you were pretty shocked at first but soon relaxed and let yourself melt into his embrace. he was so warm.

after a few moments, he finally released you. he cupped your cheek and looked at you ever so fondly. “let me repeat. do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

“yes,” you whispered then proceeded to close the gap between your lips and his.

fuegoleon

never in a million years did you think you’d develop feelings for this man.

you admired fuegoleon from afar like any of your squad mates would. every time he was around, you would subtly stare at him because let’s face it he’s good to look at! most of your squadmates admired him in a way that differs from yours but hey, they’re admiration all the same.

apart from being super good looking, he had an equally amazing personality too, reinforcing your infatuation with him all the more.

so now, the mere sight of him makes you feel sick — the butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach non-metaphorically. you couldn't believe that a MAN could possibly have this much effect on you. you'd been so in denial for a few days, ignoring whatever feelings you were harboring for him. it was manageable at first. but then your darned body started to react violently in the form of allergies.

you and your team were summoned by fuegoleon for a post-mission report. while your other member was giving out theirs, you suddenly sneezed.

“s-sorry,” you apologized immediately, covering your face in embarrassment.

fuegoleon chuckled. “what a cute sneeze, y/n.”

your life has never been the same after that. these allergies of yours were so bad that sometimes you could feel your throat tighten seemingly not being able to breathe.

all these over a man? CRAZY

you were afraid of dying so you tried as best you could to avoid atleast being in the same room as him. every thing was going well until…

“y/n!”

your friend made their way over to you during lunch break. they seem so giddy, like a toddler with too much sugar consumption.

“y/n, how come i never see you anymore?”

“well we somehow never get shuffled into the same team lately,” you laughed.

which was obviously a lie. you had always been in missions spearheaded by fuegoleon himself but ever since The Thing happened, you always begged off from anything with fuegoleon in them.

"i miss being team mates with you!" your friend sulked. "even captain fuegoleon notices your absence,"

you almost choked. the butterflies in your stomach were going feral.

"yeah, he's always looking for you. y/n this, y/n that."

needless to say, this whole ordeal changed your life yet again. so instead of being a pussy for eternity, you thought about telling him. no, you WERE going to tell him.

you lingered for a bit outside his office, suddenly not as confident as you were 5 minutes ago. but before you could completely chicken out, the door swung open revealing a startled fuegoleon.

"y/n, i didn't expect to see you here. did you need to discuss something with me?"

you stood there as frozen as a block of ice. you couldn't breathe, you couldn't say anything.

"y/n? is there something wrong?"

"no, i just...i--"

fuck it, you thought

"i'm here to tell you that i like you. that is all."

(that was embarrassing and did not go as planned but atleast you're now free from those dreadful allergies.)

you were about to run off but before you could move your feet, fuegoleon spoke up.

"you know," he cleared his throat, as if he was preparing to say something embarrassing. "i find myself thinking about you a lot these past few days,"

the allergies may have gone, but the butterflies were still there.

"oh. that's... that's nice?"

he said nothing. an uncomfortable silence then proceeded to fill the space between you.

"so um, is this the part where you tell me you like me but not enough to be in a relationship with me?"

"no, no. not at all. this is the part where i ask you out on a date." he chuckled. "forgive me for my silence, i was trying to think of places i could take you to for our dates,"

nozel

it would be a lie to say that you didn’t look up to nozel. you’ve occasionally worked with him in a couple of missions and your relationship sprouted for nothing to casual hi-hello’s when passing by each other around the silver eagles headquarters. sometimes you’d notice him looking at you, his eyes lingering more than you think they should. that or you could be delusional or maybe even hallucinating.

the thing about him is that he notices EVERYTHING. he is quite perceptive, a characteristic fit for a captain of a well-renowned squad in the kingdom. so when you started showing up at his office looking sick, he was concerned.

“y/n, you look quite ill.” he put his pen down and frowned. “and you have rashes all over your face. have you had those checked?”

he got up and made his way to you to inspect your face. the closer he got, the itchier your face felt.

and when his fingertips touched your chin to tilt your head up little? you felt like you were about to combust, your heart banging around inside your ribcage.

that’s when you knew that your rashes were triggered by no less than nozel (and your feelings for him).

you backed up a little, a shaky laugh coming out of your mouth. “i-i should go and get this checked like you said, captain.”

with that, you sprinted out the door and headed towards your room. as if on cue, your rashes disappeared. you dusted yourself off as if nothing happened and continued with your day praying you won’t run into nozel by the corridors.

the whole afternoon went by without a hitch with you successfully avoiding nozel… or so you thought.

you were finishing up your last chore for the day aka cleaning up one of the rooms in the headquarters when suddenly someone entered the room.

you’d been sneezing like crazy a few minutes before that someone entered the room. you knew it was him.

“y/n—”

“DON’T come any closer,” you spun around and held up your broom menacingly.

in his list of things he did not expect to occur today this was at the top. he was stunned, and gave you a “what is WRONG with you” look then proceeded to just roll with it.

“i do not know why you’re acting this way but i came by to ask about how your check up with the doctor went. hopefully those rashes of yours don’t pose any serious threat to your health?”

“they’re just allergies,” you quickly responded, still hypervigilant, watching him like he was a predator on the loose.

nozel ignored whatever the hell was going on with you and took a step forward.

you took a step back.

nozel quirked an eyebrow up. “are you perhaps in a delirious state because of your illness?”

“what? no!”

“bitten by a rabid animal?”

“NO!”

“then wh—”

“okay fine! i’m so in love with you and it’s making me sick!!!”

in the same list of things he did not expect to happen today, this was second. he was — yet again — stunned to say the least.

he was silent too. so silent you swear you could hear your confession echoing through the room.

after realizing he had spaced out for a while, he cleared his throat. you knew he was embarrassed.

“come have dinner with me at 7 o’clock. wear something nice,”

as turned around to leave, you caught a glimpse of his cheek and giggled. he was blushing.

guess that's enough proof that he likes you too!

#yuno grinberryall x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #nozel silva x reader #black clover x reader #yuno x reader #fuegoleon x reader #nozel x reader #black clover imagines #black clover scenarios #black clover headcanons

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ihrtsevyn · 6 months ago

Text

HOW TO GET THE GIRL: A LOVERS GUIDE

CHAPTER NINE: about jiwoo. (1.6k)

WARNINGS: angst, reader is referred to as woman.

◃ previous ep. ⊹ masterlist ⊹ next ▹

Weeks have gone by since you started tutoring Riki. To say you've started to like him more was a vast understatement. Once you dropped your "cold" act that lasted for a mere 3 sessions, You started to become accustomed to him.

Although you had gone many years without interacting with each other, it felt like the spark you had imagined between you two never left.

The both of you had grown comfortable with each other to the point you started to interact with each other outside of the usual library doors.

At first, it was embarrassing to have your name shouted at the other end of the hallway, however, it turned into a typical routine where instead of keeping your head down and speed-walking away from him to avoid lingering eyes, you'd wave back.

During these study sessions, you learned more and more about him. How he microwaves his strawberries, he has a dog named Bisco, he can play piano, and he has a large fear of bugs that you've sadly had to learn the hard way after he accidentally pushed you aside to run away from a nearby wasp.

Something else you learned about Niki was that his grades did not match up with his knowledge. Sure, he was inconsistent with his attendance and would rarely turn in classwork if any at all, but he was smart and an extremely fast learner.

It had gotten to the point where you'd just set a small bulk of his past-due assignments in front of him and study for your other classes until he finished.

The study sessions quickly turned into more of a hangout. Staying in the library together hours after completing whatever workload had stacked up over the week to share hushed laughter and talk about everything under the sun until the library had to close down for the night.

You'd even go as far as to call him your friend, and so would members of the Newspaper Club.

"You're in a rush." Lily offhandedly mentioned as she typed away on the school's computer. Her posture had straightened at the sound of you hastily packing away your belongings but her eyes refused to stray away from the screen.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to meet up with Riki." you answered before slinging the book bag over your shoulder.

"To do what exactly? It's a Friday and I thought you only tutored him on Sundays." J suddenly butted in, a playful yet accusatory tone to her voice as she suddenly invested herself in the conversation.

"I don't know actually, he asked to meet me at the school gates when our session ended."

"Oh? Is he walking you home? That's pretty cute." Yoon commented, a teasing smile growing on her face. "I don't know why he would, I mean— he's never done it before. So, I don't see why he'd want to do it now." You replied with fake unconcern.

You were being honest when you said you didn't know why Riki had suddenly made this decision to meet you at the school gate, but if it was to start walking you home on a frequent basis, you're 100% sure your knees would give out.

"Did you guys need any more help before I head out?" You suddenly questioned, trying to shift focus away from your last comment.

"Nope, we got it from here. Only thing we have left to do anyway is restock the printer paper." J assured with a small smile before hoisting herself up to sit on a desk.

"Okay, I'll see you guys later then." You quickly replied as you made your way towards the exit,

Lily only hummed in response to your statement before saying "Have fun, don't get into any trouble."

A smile crept onto your face as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how much she sounded like a Mom sending her daughter off. "And text us when you make it back home!" Seeun responded, suddenly bordering out of the storage closet with a box filled to the brim with different bulks of paper.

"Okay, Moms, will do."

"About time." Riki groaned out, loud enough for your approaching figure to hear as you made your way into eye view. "Oh, shut up," you said as he pushed himself off of the gates.

"I feel like I've been waiting for forever." He whines as he follows behind your figure. "Yeah, right. Couldn't have been waiting that long since it looks like you went home to drop off your backpack." You pointed out, silently relishing in the feeling of freedom as you got farther and farther away from school grounds.

"I didn't feel like carrying that thing around all day. Plus, it'll be easier to carry yours." He stated nonchalantly.

He reached over to slip your bag off of your shoulders before flinging it across his own, his delicate fingers brushing over your own as he did so. But just as quick as his touch arrived, it was just as quick to leave.

His simple actions shouldn't ruffle you like they do, yet it still happens. You know that when Riki does things like this he never has an underlying intention which makes it all the more pathetic when you feel your stomach brim with butterflies the moment you make skin-to-skin contact with him.

You cleared your throat before wrapping your arms around your stomach, a meek attempt at trying to calm the raging storm of feelings that was happening inside of you.

"So, why did you want to walk me home all of a sudden?" You asked, shifting your gaze around the growing shrubbery to avoid looking in his direction.

"Oh, right. I wanted to ask you something." He shyly uttered, his free hand that wasn't holding your bag made its way to the back of his neck, nervously rubbing it as he looked down at his sneakers.

You glanced in his direction to see that whatever was on his mind had been weighing in on him for a while. "Yeah, what's up?" you asked softly before shifting your gaze forward.

"Um, you're friends with Jiwoo, right?" he asked, out of the corner of your eye you could see him turn towards you. Trying to gauge your reaction and see what you'd say.

It took a moment for the question to fully translate in your mind as if he was speaking a foreign language you had never heard before. Once it did register in your head you couldn't help the shock that overtook your body, nearly making you stumble over your feet.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, it was as if you were a fish out of water. Your mouth had suddenly gone dry and it felt as if you saw the fantasy of your TV romance crashing in front of your eyes. "Yeah, Jiwoo and I are really good friends." You finally managed to push out.

"Why do you ask?" You quickly follow up, your eyebrows unknowingly furrowing.

"I asked because I wanted to know if she was single." He replied, his tone went from nervousness to giddiness in a matter of seconds.

You couldn't turn towards him because you could hear the smile in his voice at the mere mention of her name. You were afraid that if you saw how he beamed at the thought of her that the butterflies that were swarming in your stomach just a few seconds earlier would escape onto the concrete in front of you.

"She's single," you affirmed with a stiff nod.

"Do you think you could set me up with her?" He immediately asked, a hopeful tone in his voice. Each word that came out of his mouth felt like a blow to the gut, killing off each butterfly one by one.

Your head shook 'no' before you could even form the words. "I-...I don't think I could."

"Oh, come on, please?" He suddenly pleaded, turning towards you once again. He wanted you to look at him, whether intentionally or not he knew that if you made eye contact with him you'd fall into his trap just like everyone else.

"Just get one of the basketball players to help. Or one of their cheerleader girlfriends." you tried to reason. "It's not the same," he muttered, tilting his head towards the sky, another whine threatening to come out of his mouth.

"Come on, you'd be the perfect wing-woman. you're good friends with her so it'd be easy and less weird when someone she barely knows tries to set her up with me," he argued, adding onto why he wanted you to set him up with her.

You bit your lip in contemplation. It felt like the obvious answer was 'NO!' but another part of you wanted to agree to set them up. You were happy with the relationship you and Riki had started to build together and you didn't want an elementary crush to get in the way of that.

There was always the lingering possibility that you and him were only ever meant to be friends and nothing more, and maybe, just maybe, Jiwoo was the one for him.

"What do I get out of this?" You quietly asked after the lingering silence.

"Anything you want. If you do this for me I promise I'll pay you back" He swiftly responded before stopping in his tracks, instinctively making you stop alongside him. "Please, just do this for me." He begged, his hands fidgeting with the rings on his fingers as he waited for your answer.

"Fine, I'll help you."

TAGLIST: @sakiimeo @sakuxxi @ilyjxdz @artstaeh @rosas-in-the-garden @k1ttylvr @stilesks @enhagvrl @yourssincerely-mimi @rizzanna-soda @saursoob @haechansbbg @nishislcve @winuvs @kyrojackson @suhiiiies-blog @rikisgeef @soobs-things @jumigurumino @ssukiyakii @baribaaari @eleanorheartschishiya @rikibun @seunghancore @wonik1ss @sheepgardenbahhhh @rksbae @lukesboo @moomis @luvvvash @conwunder @yvjw @bunnbam @eilidiii @riksaes

#ihrtsevyn #enhypen niki x reader #enhypen fic #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #riki nishimura x reader #niki x reader #nishimura riki fluff #enhypen niki #niki fluff #ni ki x reader #riki smau #riki fluff #nishimura riki x reader #riki x reader #htgtg #enha smau #enhypen smau

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