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#apology from her for being emotional often
tumblingxelian · 9 hours
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Personally, Chloe's been surrounded more by enablers but I won't deny that it can be its own form of abuse. They're just often a loaded words and I can't always tell how they're being used all the time.
Hope that came out right.
An enabler is "a person who encourages or enables negative or self-destructive behavior in another." Even if we only treat Andre as an Enabler, its still a form of abuse, just more round about.
& that is before we get into that he:
Shows he both can and will reign Chloe in when she negatively effects him.
Taught her to use bribery rather than to identify the thing she did wrong & apologize.
Explicitly teaches her to engage in corrupt & abusive conduct which makes everyone hate her.
Raised her to imitate her mother which is again super creepy.
Gets extremely possessive and seems to rely on her to be an emotional crutch or substitute for what he doesn't get from Audrey, which is multiple levels of yikes.
As well as seems to have largely left her to be raised by staff when he's not given her the worst lessons or using her as a living prop.
Keeps her in the human equivalent of a fish bowl with zero privacy or personality present.
Along with allowing and enabling his wife's verbal and emotional abuse, as well as negligence towards Chloe even while showing he can and will argue against her if she upsets him.
Andre fucking sucks.
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jacarandaaaas · 1 day
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What you hate about each Encanto character and what you love about each Encanto character?
oh this is such a fun ask! a hard question as I love all the madrigals and the fact they’re so flawed makes them more fun to follow!
alma: i love her commitment, how she vowed to protect all these people even sacrificing her own needs to provide for others, how she promised these people a place of refudge and was always there to provide.
dislike: An obvious one here but I dislike how controlling alma can be, how her need for perfection can blind her and lead her to disregarding her own families feelings as well as her own! Her generally dismissing a lot of the problems of her family like telling pepa to control her emotions or not realizing how hurtful her comments are to mirabel.
pepa: i love how emotional she is! when pepa loves she loves with her entire heart she pours her all into every interaction and she wears her heart on her sleeve! she’s so compassionate! pepa truly is an open book and I love her for it!
dislike: i would probably say how she can get irrational very quickly and cause situations to elevate fast! Although I really can’t blame her for this based on the circumstances!
julieta: i always describe julieta as warm and i feel like no other word can capture her comforting nature and gentleness. I just love her warmth and her soothing energy!
dislike: I would say how she tends to coddle mirabel a lot. I know it comes from a place of love but you can see it doesn’t help mirabel and only makes her feel more insecure because julieta doesn’t understand her.
bruno: for bruno I would say I love how selfless he is. It’s a big thing to sacrifice your own sanity like that for someone else and it’s touching how much he truly cares about mirabel to want to protect her like that.
dislike: i would have to say how he’s timid a lot of the time. It’s sad to see him become so resigned and almost accept his fate and stay in the walls possibly forever. He had no fight left in him.
felix: I adore how felix is just the epitome of life of the party! he’s so uplifting and I love how he never gives out to pepa for her emotions. He’s the best at cheering people up and a sunshine in everyone’s lives!
dislike: about felix? that’s hard to say I feel like we don’t see enough of him for me to really base my answer on anything so I’m just gonna say how he told pepa about the vision at dinner😭 dude that was the worst idea!!
agustín: i love how supportive he is! He continuously supports julieta he runs after luisa when she’s upset and he promises mirabel he would hide the vision to protect her! the fact both he and julieta tried to go after her when she ran for the candle too! He also fiercely stands up for mirabel in such an iconic way and he doesn’t back down!
dislike: I would have to say how he can often hammer in the fact he is also unexceptional to try relate to mirabel but it makes the situation worse.
isabela: I love how loyal isa is. She was doing everything for the sake of the family and was willing to sign her entire life away just to keep them happy. Her loyalty knows no limits and I just feel it’s such a defining trait for her.
dislike: probably how smug she can be at times a key example being the apologize scene! it is funny but it’s also infuriating how smug she was making mirabel apologize for something she didn’t even do. Also how she tells mirabel to shut up and her general rude remarks to her!
dolores: for dolores I would say I love how attentive she is! small scene but how she immediately notices alma needs help and goes to offer her support! She notices the small details even without her super hearing! Like how she points out how mariano talks loud even though she hears everyone’s voice his always stuck out to her <3
dislike: probably how she blurts stuff out without thinking it through! like we know she was trying to be helpful when she told the kids mirabel doesn’t have a gift but she didn’t consider how mirabel would feel about that.
luisa: I love how kind luisa is! she was always willing to lend a hand to the people who need her even when they absolutely could deal with a lot of issues themselves! She’s also very sensitive and soft and I love when she allows herself to be vulnerable!
dislike: this might be unexpected but for dislike i would have to say how she kept ignoring mirabel when she wanted to talk. I understand she was stressed and mirabels being irritating but she could atleast look at her, mirabels already ignored a lot already and all she wanted was to talk to her sister about an issue.
camilo: like how mirabel says in the opening song I love how camilo won’t stop until he makes people smile! whether it be through his humor or his compassion I get the impression he would always be there for people. the scene where he comforts pepa is such a key example of this!
dislike: he can be a bit too blunt at times where it’s definitely not called for! he also has a tendency to exaggerate the truth for dramatic effect!
mirabel: have always said this and always will mirabels core trait is her empathy! Her ability to see others perspectives and empathize with them is so important! I always think of the “I need you” scene as a key example of this. She put aside her own feelings and focused on supporting antonio making sure he’s ok! how when she learns of the other madrigals struggles she tries her best to help them or comfort them! empathy is such a strong defining trait for her!
dislike: when it comes to mirabels negative traits I would have to say her stubbornness is the most prominent. the entire scene in isabelas room is proof of this she would have rathered let that house collapse than apologize or even listen to isabelas struggles the fact she was supportive and empathic to everyone’s issues but isas (at first) she was too stubborn to put aside her issues with isa! but also her recklessness and impulsiveness tie into this as well.
antonio: I love everything about him he’s so sweet and caring and I love how he returns the support mirabel gave to him! he always believed in her and was her biggest supporter and best friend! also how offered his plushie to comfort bruno when he was nervous! antonio is just such a caring kid!
dislike: nothing literally nothing how can u dislike this baby?
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cringelordofchaos · 4 months
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absolutely despise (pos) it when a south park episode ends on a melancholy note. like youre just supposed to accept the world is sometimes horrible and not everything gets resolved.
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rinmemesuoka · 2 years
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*has been slamming through webtoons for three weeks voice* the villainess isekai fantasy of fixing your dad
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl
Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)
Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)
Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".
Content: Brandon.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.
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Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.
Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.
That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.
“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 
“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”
“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.
You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 
“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”
More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.
You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…
“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.
“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”
“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”
You blink. “You are?”
“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”
An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?
“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”
He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.
“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”
Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”
“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”
“Be safe, Ky.”
“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”
You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.
You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?
Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.
But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.
Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.
Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.
Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.
Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)
“Where are you going?”
You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.
“The Hay Festival,” you answer.
Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.
“Alone?”
You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”
The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 
“I need that suitcase.”
You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”
He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”
Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?
You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.
“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.
There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.
“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.
When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.
This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.
“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”
He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”
You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”
That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.
Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.
“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.
“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.
“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”
He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.
Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.
Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…
“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”
Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.
The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”
He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.
As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.
“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”
You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”
“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”
“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.
“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”
He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.
“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.
“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.
You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.
“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”
“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”
“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.
You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.
“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.
You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.
A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.
Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.
I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)
Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.
Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.
I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.
My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.
She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?
Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.
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starboyshoyo · 2 years
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Courting, Pining, or Flirting? 
Characters: All NRC students x reader (seperately)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Genre: fluff
Do the NRC boys court you, pine for you, or flirt with you? 
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HEARTSLABYUL
Riddle Rosehearts will do his best in courting you. Raised to be strict and formal, he has virtually no idea of what love is, or how to express it. The best he got was the fairytales of princesses and knights in his childhood. So he’ll follow their lead to the best of his ability. Riddle will give you his blazer jacket, and take your arm in his when navigating crowded hallways- he’ll even bow to you when saying goodnight, placing a tender kiss on your hand. Riddle might need a bit of a confidence boost before he performs a moonlight soliloquy under your balcony, though. 
Ace Trappola, unsurprisingly, enjoys flirting with you. What can he say, he’s a fun-loving guy! That extends to all parts of his life, including you. When the two of you are watching movies on his laptop in Ramshackle Dorm, he’ll tug the blanket away, forcing you to cuddle up to him for warmth. One day in class, a crumpled paper ball will hit you on the shoulder, reading: DO YOU LIKE ME? YES/NO ;) It’s childish, but somehow endearing.
Deuce Spade, ever the gentleman, will try (keyword: try) his best in courting you. His mom didn’t raise a brat! Listening to her advice, he’ll buy you flowers, ask you out on the weekends, and drape his jacket over your shoulders when you get cold. It’s a lot less smooth than it sounds, though. He’ll be a blushing, stuttering mess the entire time and accidentally spill his plans to you before he can execute them. Then he’ll apologize and spill even more of his plans- and alas, the cycle continues. 
Trey Clover is surprisingly good at flirting! Trey is confident in his ability to charm people. Even the most uptight of Prefects tend to relax a little around him. Of course, the delicious handmade pastries he often brings along with him are just a bonus. They’re an easy way to strike up a conversation with you, getting you to spill more and more about yourself to him. He’s comfortable to talk to, isn’t he? Oh, is that baked good your favorite? Expect a box of them to show up on your desk within the next week, along with a coy little note: Sweets for the sweet. 
Cater Diamond, on the surface, is definitely into flirting. He chases anything and everything within a fifty-meter radius of himself, and giving his posts on Magicam so much as a comment will result in a Hey cutie ;) popping up in your DM notifications at 1 AM. But with a person that Cater truly loves, face to face, he won’t do anything more than stay by your side as a supportive friend, pining from afar. He’s afraid of messing this up. Do you even see him that way? Please say you do. 
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SAVANACLAW
Leona Kingscholar does all three, in the order of pining, courting, and flirting. Hear me out: Leona pines, but not in a hopeless way. Instead, he just figures that he doesn’t have the time or emotional investment for a relationship. But once the feelings began to grow, Leona gets desperate. He doesn’t want opportunities to slip through his fingers without doing anything. So he’ll begin subtly hanging out with you more, until it reaches the courting stage. At that point, he becomes visibly softer and less harsh around you. He’ll only really be comfortable flirting and being playful with you once you’re in an established relationship, not before. 
Ruggie Bucchi is into casual flirting- Well, he’s into it until he realizes he’s fallen so hard that he can’t climb back out. It’s all fun and games to him at first. Oh, you want to pet his ears? Maybe trading that cookie of yours from the lunch buffet would be suitable collateral. You think he looks good in the PE uniform? There’s more where that came from. Want him to accompany you on a late-night errand? Of course! He loves spending time with you- Wait, when did that happen? 
Jack Howl follows his sharp instincts on everything, and every sign is pointing at him courting you like a true gentleman. He knows he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got no problem cleaning his act up for you. Putting on a suit and tie and using a bit of gel in his hair and around his ears is a small price to pay for your affection. He’s not particularly shy about showing you he has feelings for you, but outright telling you might take a bit more time and effort.
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OCTAVINELLE
Azul Ashengrotto is painfully, unequivocally deep in pining for you. There’s just no way around it is there? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to crawl into his tako pot and hide when you’re around. You’re on his mind every second of every day, and he lays in bed every night wondering if you see him the same way. Is he handsome to you? Is he smart? He wants to hold you so bad but he won’t do it until you tell him yes, I like you too, first.
Jade Leech, ever the calm, collected one, excels at smooth flirting. He just knows you like him as much as he likes you, and he’s not afraid to point it out. It’s not like you’re subtle about it either- with the way you sit in a corner booth of Mostro Lounge for hours, just to be able to talk with him after-hours over leftover pastries and tea. You wouldn’t mind if he did this with you more often, would you? 
Floyd Leech has his unique way of flirting, just like everything else in his life. You’re just so exciting, Shrimpy! Won’t you tell him a little more about your day? Even just the little things, like how many pages of notes you took in History of Magic class or an answer to a test question or two- he’s kidding, he’s kidding! All jokes aside, Floyd truly does enjoy your company and the ways you spice up his life. 
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SCARABIA
Kalim Al-Asim does none of the three, surprisingly. He’s so bright it might not even occur to you that he’s interested until you’re already three layers deep. He’s always been a friendly person, so when he begins inviting you to hang out all the time, you wouldn’t give it a second thought. It’s only when you notice him trying to do things for you rather than just with you do you realize his feelings might run a little deeper than just friendship. He tries to be chivalrous, but it usually just comes off as him playing at being your prince charming. The closest you could get to describing what Kalim does is playful, friendly courting- albeit a very unconventional form of it. 
Jamil Viper is used to never getting what he wants. Somewhere along the line he stopped trying. So when you step into his life, shining but not blinding like Kalim, he hesitates. Is he ready to take such a risk? All he knows for sure is that he wants you in his life… someday. So quietly, in between classes and in the hallways, he’ll be pining for you from afar- hoping you’ll make the first move, so that he won’t have to worry about Kalim whisking you away.
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POMEFIORE
Vil Schoenheit thinks he has never met someone so beautiful before. You might even be half as beautiful as he is! It’s a huge compliment coming from someone like him. You’re also half as smart, almost as strong, and maybe he’d consider taking you out for lunch- but don’t get it twisted! He’s doing this out of the goodness of his heart. (He likes you. He really likes you. Please date him.) It’s not very good flirting, but he’s trying his best.
Rook Hunt is flamboyant and genuine in everything he does, which includes flirting with you, his longtime crush. You have the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen! Would you mind if he admired it for a while? He’ll brag about you to everyone around him, much to the irritation of Vil, who finds it offensive that his biggest supporter has ‘betrayed’ him for another. Rook doesn’t care, though. If you so pleased, he’d be more than happy to walk you to your next class. Anything to bask in your unmatched beauty just a few seconds longer. 
Epel Felmier is good at flirting, and he’s confident about it too! A rough and tumble farm boy like him needs a cute thing on his arm to show off, doesn’t he? Don’t laugh at him- he’s trying to impress you. He’ll do anything he can to prove to you that he’s a strong, capable person and your perfect match. Let him carry your books, and serve you in the cafeteria buffet line. When you share a snack together, he’ll lean just a bit too close, letting his cheek brush against yours before pulling away. Come on, look him in the eyes! Or are you too shy~
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IGNIHYDE
Idia Shroud has never met you in real life. You’ve never seen his face, but he’s seen yours through the camera of his tablet at housewarden meetings. Maybe it’s the pent up stress speaking, but wow, you’re way out of his league. Best to make casual conversation and repress his pining over a game of online chess, lest he screw it all up in real life. 
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DIASOMNIA
Malleus Draconia is a lonely soul who knows little more than a life of isolation. When you walk into his life, unafraid of the twisted black crown that sits on his head or the ominous aura that seems to surround him, he has to wonder if after all these years he’s finally found his soulmate. Immediately, he wants to make plans to see you every day, to listen to you ramble about anything and everything beyond the briar walls around his castle. Stay a while and talk with him, won’t you? Malleus is the true definition of patience and indulgence when he’s courting you. 
Lilia Vanrouge isn’t one for mere high school relationships. He’s a father and a general! He’s got a teenager to raise and armies to lead, on top the infamously heavy homework load from NRC classes. You’d have to be really important to him to find a place in his ancient heart. Sure, he’ll have his fun with flirting and all, but no one can really expect a thousand-year old fae to fall in love… right?
Sebek Zigvolt is shocked, no pun intended. There’s no way a fae like himself has fallen for a mere human! No, he won’t accept it. Sebek will turn in somersaults and bend over backwards to make any excuse on why he is not in love with you, he’s just a bit agitated today! Ironically, he makes things harder for himself with this mindset, condemning himself to pining for you from afar. 
Silver, like his name, wants to be your knight in shining armor- he’s just not quite sure how to go about it yet. He supposes he’ll ask for your parents’ permission to begin courting you, first. That’s the tradition in the Valley of Thorns after all. But when Lilia points out that it’s a bit old-fashioned, he’ll simply agree and go along with whatever terrible plans the rest of Diasomnia comes up with next. Be prepared to be barraged with an awful yet endearing mix of pick-up lines, cheesy love letters, and classic romance songs that this quartet comes up with in their free time. The best thing? Silver himself won’t even be awake for half of it. 
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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tamby-teeze · 6 months
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Okay, so I know a solid 40% of the new Fantasy High was about Tracker "There's still deep attraction here" O'Shaughnessy, but HERE ME OUT
Gertie Bladeshield is the perfect woman for Kristen Applebees.
Cause, like, look, there was a lot of talk in episode 11 about impulsivity and chaos as an aspect of Kristen's character, mainly in how it's mirrored in Princess "Kristen if she had money" Naradriel, but it's also been a general focus this season, especially in how she often uses it to guard her emotions. Think back to "That's what you think", an incredible improv moment, but if you look at the big picture, Kristen's estranged parents make an incredibly inflammatory statement about her religion right after actively bullying her little brother, and instead of honoring any of the actual negative emotions she's being filled with in that moment, she pirouettes away. It's brought up in the adventuring party after this exact episode how Kristen is a cleric, a high-wisdom class that is naturally insightful, but uses these silly deflections to hold other people back from being insightful into her (hence Mac & Donna's lifetime insight disadvantage)
This isn't just limited to small moments, too. To take a broader look at the season so far, Kristen's chaotic, shrimp-jumping, wrangler-wearing, salsa-dipping, middle-school-campaigning, steel-workers-union-supporting bid for class president is often shown explicitly as a distraction from her existentially important job as the only cleric of Cassandra. Even when trying to earnestly apologize to Cassandra and prove to them that she's gonna prioritize her over class presidency, the only way she can articulate it is "You're the meat, mama." Her emotions are always guarded by some amount of chaos and impulsivity.
Now, how does that relate to Gertie "I've had a crush on you for a really long time" Bladeshield?
In both of the two scenes we've gotten of The Best D20 NPC (/j (but I do really like her)), Gertie has shown a pretty similar propensity for making bold, chaotic decisions in the heat of the moment. However, in my observation, these decisions do NOT come from a place of emotional suppression. Quite the opposite, actually.
Think back to her Grand Entrance into the narrative. Gertie, being one of the last people awake at Fabian's party, gifts her longtime-crush a jar of honey, something that connects directly to her passion/special-interest of beekeeping, in a homemade container designed as a pun on Kristen's last name. (in hindsight, the crush was very obvious) Then, in the middle of her infodumping to her about honey, Kristen's rich friend makes an incredibly dismissive remark about her good-natured gift. This obviously pisses her off, but unlike Kristen "That's what you think" Applebees, Gertie "I don't give a shit who's kid you are" Bladeshield lets herself feel those emotions very loudly, immediately starts a duel with possibly one of the most accomplished sword-fighters in the history of Aguefort, and declares him a life-long nemesis. She acts very brashly and impulsively, but in a way that doesn't hide her emotions, instead expressing them.
(I know there's a lot of talk about outbursts of anger being tied to Ankarna, but not only does the scene not really seem like foreshadowing to me, it's more interesting to see it through the lens of being Gertie's actual actions)
This trend continues with the 12th most noteworthy thing to have happened in episode 11 (which incredibly high acclaim), where after being explicitly asked to talk about bees by her crush, and being placed inches away from her face, kisses her on the lips. Now, excusing the albeit upsetting lack of consent, it once again shows Gertie acting very impulsively in a way that exposes her feelings to the people she likes. With these two instances of characterization being literally the only two scenes we get with her, it poses her as a very interesting parallel to Kristen, someone who shares in her willingness to make impulsive decisions, but differs wildly from her in the way she uses them to react to strong emotions.
However, does this really make Gertie the Autism to her ADHD?
(idk if Gertie really shows autistic traits, I just wanted to say that) Well, part of what Tracker a good companion for Kristen was that, as a fellow cleric, she naturally had very high wisdom, meaning she had enough insight to look past the layers of shrimp and salsa and engage with her on a deep level. However, clerics aren't the only class that cast spells with wisdom, so do rangers, including swarm-keeper rangers, which is a subclass that both has a good few abilities focused on spell-casting and was confirmed to be Gertie's subclass in an adventuring party. While her highest stat still could be dex (which, come to think of it, is a hilarious contrast to Kristen), there's no doubt that Gertie has a higher chance than most at being able to look past Kristen's barriers and see the complex hive of sweet, buzzing emotions underneath.
Hell, maybe that's where Gertie's crush comes from in the first place. Maybe, seeing this popular, proudly sapphic cleric be incredibly playful and chaotic on school grounds, she not only saw a bit of herself, but a little more. Perhaps, the type of mind that dedicates itself to allowing small, harmless critters to prosper even when no-one cares to join her club, is also the type of mind able to recognize when someone isn't allowing their truest emotions to prosper, making her wonder if they might have something to gain from sharing some of that chaos, using it not to hide, but to be free.
Or maybe it's just cause her last name has "bees" in it, idk.
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zombiefiilm · 9 months
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Next to You
spencer reid x fem!reader
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summary: sharing a room with the person in the bau that hates you the most makes you go through more emotions than you thought possible
warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, arguing, crying, no use of y/n, smut, nsfw - 18+ only, apology sex, soft sex, fem oral, protected p in v, praise, typical criminal minds death and unsub mentions
word count: 2.7k
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Last minute cases in desolate towns in the midwest often meant that there was nowhere for the team to stay. It wasn't uncommon for you to have to pair or group up with other team members in dodgy motel rooms.
The most recent investigation had brought you all to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska, a long day ending with a drive to an motel that housed 7 rooms in total.
You, Reid and Rossi were the last to arrive so when Prentiss handed you a room key and told you that you would be sharing with Reid, it was already too late to complain.
"It's for your own good" she she grinned, picking her go-bag off the floor beside her.
"I hate you" you sighed.
"Sure you do" she was already walking off. You've been face to face with serial killers regularly, and this was just surviving a few nights in the same room as Spencer Reid, you could do this.
You walked back outside to find Reid standing in the dark by the car, right hand in this pocket and his left leaning against the black SUV.
"Looks like you're with me, Reid" you announced and the way that his face instantly dropped almost knocked you over. It was almost like you'd told him you were about to kill him.
"Come on" you began walking down to room 4, Spencer following shortly behind as you unlocked the door.
Being met with just one double bed though was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The couch looked like it had been through the war and there was no way on earth you were even touching it. And the sigh that Spencer let out made you want to rip your own hair out.
"I'm gonna sleep in the car" you quickly turned around to walk out of the door.
"You're not sleeping outside with a killer targeting women the exact same age as you on the loose" he stopped you in your tracks. He was right. "I can take the couch".
You were a little surprised at the chivalry but thankful none the less. "Are you sure?"
He didn't answer, instead dropping himself onto the couch.
Feeling content with his actions, you dropped your own bag on the floor beside the bed and told him you were going to use the bathroom before cleaning yourself up and changing into the oversized t-shirt you were using as pyjamas.
Coming out of the bathroom again, you were going to tell Reid that he was free to use the bathroom now but he simply glared at you.
It was as if he wanted to make your life hell. He always scowled at you, made snarky comments on little details about you, gloated whenever you got anything wrong. He always drove you up the walls, since you first started at the BAU, and you never knew why.
It's not like you had done anything to him, from what you knew at least. You smiled and shook his hand when you met him and even thought he was cute, you treated him just like you did with everyone else on the team, but you quickly noticed how differently he treated you.
You gave him plenty of time to warm up to you before you let yourself develop any solid opinions on him. You were warned about how he took to knew people, and you were understanding at first. But after you were several months in, and now years, and he still treated you like an outsider, you were no longer shy to expressing your dislike for him.
Other people on the team noticed it too, you, JJ, Garcia and Emily often discussing it with each other, but if one of them ever mentioned Spencer's attitude to himself, he'd deny everything and brush it off.
You really tried to not let it get to you, especially with the support from others, But man, did it upset you.
Spencer eventually got himself ready in the bathroom and came back out, silently setting himself up on the couch as you sat in the bed and did some research. There was a nice silence for a while, and then:
"Could you stop turning the pages so loud" he sounded irritated already and you hadn't even spoken to each other in the past 30 minutes.
"What?" you matched his tone, was he really trying to start a fight with you right now?
"I can't even think with how much noise you're making"
"I'm not making any noise, Reid, what's wrong with you?"
"You're flicking the pages, I can't pay attention to anything else"
"Oh so the sound of paper is able to stop boy genius in his tracks?" you mocked, pissed off at what he was choosing to do do.
He glared at you in response, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.
"I don't know how to help you here, Reid, I'm trying to work on the case"
"Yeah, trying, it's not like you've ever actually done anything important for one" his voice had raised slightly.
"What?"
"You're practically incompetent, how you got recruited to the bureau, I'll never know" you hadn't even noticed him standing up, but it suddenly made you feel uncomfortable so you got out of the bed too, standing on the opposite side of the room.
"Excuse me?" you were completely shocked now, how had he gotten so far.
"You heard me. You have no place on this team. All you do is mess things up, you can't figure anything out and then you go and let our unsubs go"
Oh
You knew exactly what he was talking about. During one of your first cases, you had unintentionally informed an unsub that the FBI were searching for him during an interview with his wife and he got away. He was dangerous and you had never forgiven yourself for the people who had died before he was finally caught.
You just broke down in tears after that. It felt like he'd re-opened the wound right there and then.
"Fuck you" you spat through tears. You couldn't even look at him now, turning your back to him to sit on the bed.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" it was like he had suddenly snapped out of the unexplained rage he was just experiencing.
You felt the bed dip as he sat down behind you, and then a hand rest on your shoulder.
You were edging on losing the ability to breathe. It wasn't even just remembering the worst experience you had on the job, it was the fact that Spencer had used it against you just to get a reaction out of you. You wouldn't have even expected that from him.
He just sat behind you as you attempted to regain some sense of composure, not saying anything else. Was he finally feeling some sense of remorse for how horribly he had been treating you?
Once he noticed that your breathing had slowed, he called out your last name, your work name. It felt so impersonal in that moment. Not that you'd ever been on a first name basis with him, but you gave no reaction to him.
He tried again, squeezing your shoulder this time. You gave him nothing.
But then he whispered your name. Your first name. It was quiet, apologetic.. desperate.
You sniffled, wiping the tears from under your eyes before you turned around to look at him. He was sitting right behind you in the bed now, his big brown eyes practically burning a hole in your head. You knew you probably looked like a mess now, face red and wet, eyes puffy, and hair mangled.
"God, I'm sorry" his hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek "I'm such an idiot, I can't believe I said that".
You flinched at his touch, not saying anything back to him.
"If I could take that back I would, I did not mean it. It was just in the moment" he tried to hold your face in his hand but you avoided his touch.
"In the moment?" you repeated "What even was that moment. It's like you wanted to have an argument with me for fun".
"I don't want to argue with you, I just.."
"You just hate me" you finished.
"No! I don't hate you, I'm just stupid and don't know how to deal with how I feel about you"
You looked directly into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "How you feel about me?"
You managed to catch his gaze as it briefly flicked down to your lips. It felt like something was drawing you closer as you moved towards him.
"Please, let me make it up to you".
"No. Are you saying you've treated me like this because you can't figure out what to do about your feelings for me? What are you? Twelve? You've made my life miserable."
The tears spilled out again, what was he even saying?
"Please, just let me show you how sorry I am"
His voice was laced in what could only be described as desperation, it was making you want to hear him out, forgive him, and you didn't quite know why.
"Please" his voice was on the verge of breaking.
Your walls were crumbling down, it was like he'd cast a spell on you
"please"
You only nodded, allowing him to to lean in closer to you, finally cupping your head in his hands and softly pressing his lips against yours.
It was like he was purposefully avoiding any roughness as he gently kissed, from your lips down your jaw and then down your neck. He looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question. And you nodded.
He loosely grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you let him lift it up over your head.
He didn't touch you yet, kissing your lips again as he began to slide your underwear down. You manoeuvred enough for him to take them off you completely. He was so gentle that you didn't even think of feeling self-conscious being completely undressed in front of him.
He urged you to spread your legs and quickly laid down on his stomach in between them.
You barely had time to blink before his lips were on you, kissing up the inside of your thigh. as his hands wrapped around you, holding you down.
Then, he was softly licking up your cunt, softly moaning to himself as he tasted you. He avoided your clit, dragging his tongue everywhere except where you needed him most.
"Spence" the nickname drove him crazy, he finally felt like maybe you could be his.
He finally flicked his tongue over your clit and you couldn't help but push your hips against his face, a whine slipping from your lips.
He only egged you on, using your legs to pull closer to his mouth. He kept circling your clit, increasing the amount of pressure he used as your squirmed under him.
Every few moments, he'd bring his tongue down again, dipping into your hole gently, gathering your slick, before suckling at your clit again.
Slurs of his name, swears and a few 'oh my gods' were the only coherent sounds that could leave your mouth. He had gotten you incredibly sensitive and you felt like you could tip over the edge at any moment.
Spencer himself couldn't stop himself from moaning at your taste, your sounds, how your skin felt under his hands. The vibrations pushing you further.
He suddenly sucked a bit harsher, almost nipping your clit before going back to his previously gentle movements.
The contrast between the rare harsher movements and his gentle attention had you bucking into his face, only to be stopped by his hands pushing you down.
All of a sudden, you felt your release. You moaned much to loud as you writhed under Spencer's mouth, him carrying you through your orgasm.
Just as you felt yourself come down, you went to pull yourself away from Spencer, but he refused to let you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as he let himself taste your release.
"Spencer, please" you were so incredibly sensitive at this point, your body jolting at every small movement. You had to bite the side of your hand to stop yourself from yelling out from the pleasure.
He suddenly pulled off of you with a soft *pop* ad sat up, quickly kicking his trousers and boxers off as you reached forward and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.
Now that he too was undressed, you felt more equal, it was almost metaphorical as if he was agreeing to end the weird tension between the both of you.
He sat between your legs again, lifting your legs around his hips. You hadn't noticed the condom he had taken out from his pocket until you heard the crinkle of the foil as he opened it.
He quickly rolled it down his shaft as you finally got the chance to look at him. You felt yourself clench in anticipation.
He finally lined himself up and you were subconsciously pushing your hips down towards him.
"Please, Reid" you practically begged as he leaned forward but he stopped at your words.
You looked into his eyes, pleading for him to fill you up, but he didn't.
"Spencer" you whined, and he quickly rutted his hips into you.
"Thats it, good girl" he praised as the air was knocked from your lungs.
He started slow, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to finally caress your skin. It was like he was trying to memorise the curves of your body with one hand. He grabbed at your hips, held your waist, squeezed your breasts, as he slowly picked up his pace.
He couldn't get enough of feeling your body as he pinched your nipple, marvelling at the way it hardened further.
"God, you're so beautiful" his hand finally fell down to your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.
You couldn't even get a single word out at this point, too tired and desperate to say anything.
"I'm so sorry baby" if he didn't have your attention before, the name had definitely gotten it now. "I'll be so good for you from now on" you could tell he was close from the waver in his voice, but you too felt your 2nd release approaching.
"You're so perfect" his rambling was interrupted by groans, "never want to leave your side ever again" his thrusts had last there rhythm as he circled your clit quicker, desperate to get you to cum before him.
It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, vision blurring as he continued his thrusts. Not much after, he plunged into you one last time. You could feel him coming inside as he filled up the condom, his chest now flush against yours.
You both laid there for a few moments, enjoying the hot, sticky embrace as you caught your breathe.
Silently, Spencer pulled out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling his boxers on. He then got you cleaned up, helping you put on your own underwear afterwards, before you got into the bed.
He tried to walk over to the couch but you were not letting that happen. “Get in here Reid" you muttered, laughing quietly as he practically jumped in beside you.
As he faced you in the bed, he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry, about everything" he kissed you once more, it would take more time for you to forgive him, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.
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cupidsdolll · 3 months
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The Feeling Came Late
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Prologue
pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem!sunshine!reader
summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?
overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.
chapter .5/? (wc: 1.5k)
masterlist
- - - - - -
Fond memories ignored, thrown away in a second as if they meant nothing to him. Like the years of laughter were all just a dream, but they’re not. They were real and it drove him crazy. Harry only stared at the wall, face red and tears streaming down his face angrily. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. He was angry, angry at the world, at himself because that was his best friend and at her. 
He was just a boy, a kid when it happened. Happy in his “prime years” of high school, he was thriving academically and socially. He was on top of his class work and one of the top students in all of his classes, alongside his childhood friend. They stayed friendly whenever they competed against each other, giving their congratulations when the other won in anything. Harry enjoyed the thrill of trying to be the first one to turn in his assignment though, he enjoyed the friendly banter they shared afterwards and during. It became their normal, he looked forward to it. 
Then it happened, and he was left broken. A shell of the smart and extroverted boy he once was. He can remember every detail of that day, he had just come home from hanging out with his childhood best friend – they had just gotten done studying and finishing the last episode of the season of their favorite TV show – when his mom walked alongside with him. The ride back home from her house to his was silent, filled with a sense of sadness and Harry couldn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. His mom was happy when she dropped him off at school that morning. She sat him down in their living room and said that this was important, and told him. She kept apologizing and trying to reassure him that everything was being done, tried, efforts were being done. They were going to fix this, help him. 
Of course, Harry’s just a kid who’s already dealing with all the new emotions of puberty and teenage feelings, so he screamed at her. Yelled something along the lines of “No, you’re lying and I hate you” but that’s still up for debate, he doesn’t think of this day often. He’d stormed away from her crying figure, her apologies are no good to him, won’t make everything better. He cried, screamed and threw things. He destroyed his room, tearing down pictures and throwing trophies, his vision was blurred from all of the tears in his eyes. He hated himself, it wasn’t his fault though. Nothing he could’ve done would have changed what happened, he couldn’t have stopped it. He knows that deep down, but he has to put the blame on someone, and it only makes sense that it has to be him. 
When he calmed down some, he’d taken all of his pictures off the wall, he couldn’t look at all of the times he was happy. It only reminded him of the feeling in his chest, and he stashed them all away in a box to be kept in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind he hopes will be the cause, but he kept two pictures. He couldn’t bear to have them forgotten, even if they were going to be locked away still. They were special, the people in the picture were special. They’ll always be special, so he cried some more as he placed them in his nightstand drawer. He spent the majority of the night crying, the tears seemed never ending and he hated it. He ignored his mom calling him for dinner and his sister who knocked on his door to check on him. She only sighed and reminded him that she loves him and will be there for him if he needs anything before she left him alone and headed back to her own room. 
Over time, he changed. It wasn’t gradual though, it was very noticeable. He stopped trying to compete with her, stopped trying to be the first anything. He stopped raising his hand, stopped putting efforts into presentations and powerpoints, stopped caring. He started getting into weed, he refused to try any of the harder stuff – not like his friends would give him any, they still had somewhat good morals and he also tried drinking. (A good thing about having older friends is the easy access to these types of things.) He stopped wearing soft and colorful clothes and started wearing darker clothes, jeans with rips in them and short sleeved shirts tight enough to showcase his growing muscles. He worked out more, wasn’t the lanky little boy she used to know anymore, his language expanded, started using more curse words and his tone grew disinterested and mean.
 He knew she watched him from a distance with sad eyes, he knew she tried to help him. He listened from his doorway as his mom talked to her, saying any excuse she can think of to not worry the little girl. 
‘Harry’s just not feeling very good, dear.’ ‘Harry’s just tired, he’s had a long day.’ ‘You know teenage boys can be difficult dear, he’ll come around soon,’ and other excuses were told to his friend when she came to check on him. He couldn’t exactly make out what the girl was saying in response to his mom, she’s always been such a soft speaker, and it upsets him more. He just wants to be left alone and she cares so much for him that she just want to help in any way,  and he doesn’t want to be rude and tell her to fuck off so he has his mom deal with it. She’s the emotional support thinker, not him. 
After a couple of minutes he hears the door shut so he closes his bedroom door and sits back on his bed, the two pictures laid out on his bed as a reminder of the love for his two closest friends, but also as a reminder of the pain he feels and the tears shed over something that wasn't his fault, the blame he put on himself. He sighs sadly as he looks at them once more before he gathers them and sets them in his nightstand drawer. He tries not to look at those pictures too often, he hates how they make him feel. Any time he looks at his best friend’s photo, it fills him with overwhelming sadness, bitter and hurtful. It fills his chest and makes him feel like he’s drowning in sadness, there’s sometimes a hint of anger but that’s never at him. It’s always directed towards himself, not his friend. He could never be mad at him, he was the closest guy friend he’s had and will ever have, he won’t have another one. When he looks at hers, it used to be happiness, love and adoration but it’s turned into anger and  jealousy. Her name will always leave a bitter taste in his mouth, his lips will always turn into a frown at the fleetest thought of her. 
He hates her, hates how smart she is, how she’s always somehow better at everything than him even when he spent hours working on something. He loathes how she just always knows what to say. He hates how she never fell off or even wobbled off the hill she was on no matter what was going on in her life. He dislikes how much he wishes he could be like that. He abhors how much even though he wants nothing to do with her right now that he still longs to be those little kids playing together and studying and gossiping. He especially hates how deep down he hopes that she’ll wait for him or beg for him to let her in, how he actually wants her to fight for their friendship. He loathes how much he misses her.
Instead of acting on those terrible ideas in his head on rekindling their friendship, he focuses on his popularity. High school ends and during the summer he experiments with his look, becomes a ladies’ man and immerses himself in that. He enjoys sex, the feeling of it all. The intimacy of something shared between two people, the feverish kisses and the sounds of his partners enjoying themselves. It’s a very good distraction from the one person who doesn’t seem to leave his mind. His reputation as a ladies’ man and a very skilled person grows, he becomes popular not only with the ladies in school but also with the fellow jocks of the school. He dabbled a little bit in the sports aspect of his education, he also tried out for the soccer team at his school. He’s always loved the sport, even as a little boy, something about the running and kicking balls amused him. He was also a pretty fast learner which helped his case a lot, but he still passed. He dabbled in a lot of different sports, not wanting to tie himself down to just one thing which applied to multiple different areas in the boy’s life. He tried anything to rid himself of one of the two names that haunts him no matter what.
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donetbhlmao · 3 months
Text
every time i rewatch the bear i think about how sydney (often) actively resists opening up emotionally to/getting closer to carmy - more under the cut
moments that immediately come to mind:
when carm asks syd about her dad in s2 e2: she interrupts him and brings the convo back to food.
when carmy asks syd about her new place and how her dad is feeling about the move in s3: i don't remember the actual episode but she interrupts him again to talk about work. what was the reason!!!
when carmy initially asks about syd's mom in s2: she has shown that talking about her mom is difficult (see: her convo with marcus at her place when she made him a beautiful meal), so this could be ambiguous but i think still worth mentioning.
WHEN CARMY TELLS HER SHE LOOKS NICE IN S3: she immediately takes off her bow???? i havent been able to stop thinking about this beat because why does she do that. does she not want to be perceived by him that way? does she feel guilty because she just got back from meeting with another chef for another position (thereby potentially dissolving her and carmy's partnership)? WHY WHY WHY (also she's so real for this because i think it's at least partially meant to signal that she's uncomfortable with his attention if he's not going to accompany it with meaningful communication). yes she favors scarves in the kitchen and she was getting ready for work but i think there's something else going on and have been rotating this scene in my head like it's a rotisserie chicken.
the fact that she half-lied about why she came to work at the bear in the first place, and, relatedly, that he made the best meal she ever had: maybe carm caught onto this one but she doesn't ever openly tell him that she's a fan of his work (and that he made the best meal she ever had!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) i say half-lied because she almost immediately tells him that she knows who he is. so.
i've been thinking a lot about syd's feelings for carmy and how she likely fears emotional intimacy with him. it's a stark contrast to how easily she opens up to marcus or asks richie questions about his daughter or even mentors/becomes friends with tina.
carmy is deeply interested in syd as a person and SHOWS it - in fact the few times in s3 that he's civil to her is when they are not working in the stresses of the kitchen and he's asking her about her life.
i can't think of a time where syd asks CARMY about his family (remember - she asks richie about michael), and when he opens up (without prompting from her!!!) about michael being an addict to her she lightens the mood with a joke, and when he opens up about how donna was a nightmare and he's trying to reclaim cannolis, all she says is "whoa." (btw i actually love sydney because she's so emotionally stunted like that's my girl <3)
she will open up about sheridan road, and her fear of failure (so inherent to who she is and her motivations in the show!), but not so much about HERself and her personal life. it's fascinating.
an exception to this is when syd tells carmy to call richie and apologize - even then it's not syd "asking" per se, but it is her taking a step and knowing what's best for carmy (and the kitchen) in that moment.
i think this is meant to indicate how carmy is different from everyone else in syd's life - almost like he doesn't "fit" into any of the other boxes she has for people.
now, i personally read this as romantic. there's something BIG blocking sydney from accepting that, though, and i think it's that carmy is so tied to her passion, her profession, her LIFE'S WORK, and she will not, cannot, fuck that up. we all talk about claire being an obstacle to a potential romantic connection between the two - and she is - but i truly think sydney's unwillingness to confront her interest in carmy is a bigger, more substantial hurdle (though not at all impossible to overcome!)
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velaryqns · 6 months
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Could you do a House fanfic where after failing at treating a patient, House takes his stress and anger out on the reader? She then considers quitting being a doctor. House is confronted by Dr. Cuddy and his team, causing him to go comfort and apologize to the girl.
Uncontrolled Anger
Gregory House x Female Reader (I took it romantically for fun)
Universe: House MD
Summary: Maybe you should have known better than to question House about his feelings.
Warnings: Patient death, mentions of addictions, angst
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You sat silently, your eyes on the dead body in front of you. You had watched as the team fought to help the man, all for it to fail after multiple misdiagnoses and wrong solutions. You, being a doctor, knew what they were going through. You’d gone through it a few times with your patients.
Sighing, you rest a hand on Taub’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. He returned it, then watched you go as you made your way out of the room and eventually wandered to House’s office. When you reached the glass door with his name on it, you stood silently for a moment with your arms crossed. He had one hand in a fist by the side of his head and the other filling out paperwork.
You brought your hand down to the handle, allowing yourself into his office. You took a few paces, then turned your attention to the big yellow chair by his bookshelf. You lowered yourself into the chair, watching him silently for a moment.
“How are you?” You asked gently, not wanting to annoy him while he was in the middle of scribbling on the sheet.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” he muttered, still keeping his gaze away from you.
“You could at least say that you’re okay,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as you shook it. You knew he handled emotions horribly, in ways that often required you to intervene, “Greg—“
He slammed the pen down and looked at you. And you could see why he had been avoiding your gaze to begin with, “You’re not a therapist. In fact, you’re presently the reason I could end up needing one. I just want some peace and quiet because excuse me for not being Doctor Y/N Y/L/N.”
“What —“ You cut yourself off, truly hurt by his words. His blue eyes held no remorse for what he said, and you quickly stood and left the room. You bumped into Chase, but ignored him entirely as you made your way down the hall with the intention of going to the elevator.
As you stood silently in the elevator, waiting to go down to the main floor to leave for the evening, you processed why you continued to try and support the man that. You stared at the metal doors, jaw clenched as you finalized your decision.
You didn’t want to work in the same building as someone like Greg House. Cuddy wouldn’t fire him, he’s too good.
Once you reached the main floor, you went to the clinic, seeing if there was any help you could offer and breathing a sigh of relief when you were able to step in. You dove into working throughout the clinic, waiting patiently to be able to talk to Cuddy about what was going on.
You filed patients in and out of the room you were using, only stopping for nurses to clean and sterilize everything between each patient. However, your consistent flow was ruined by Foreman's sudden intrusion into the room. You stared at him.
"Do you need something? Because I would like to treat my patients," you informed him.
"Just checking on you," he shrugged, tucking his hands in his pants pocket and leaning against the door, further preventing you from leaving the room, let alone treating your patients.
"I am fine," you muttered, tossing a file on the counter and crossing your arms. You leaned against the counter, "I am tired of him behaving like a child; I never thought I'd consider leaving my position because Cuddy refuses to fire House."
"I can talk to her for you,"
"Not worth it," you shook your head, "Now can you please go?"
Foreman was reluctant for a moment, but then nodded his head and walked out of the room. Your next patient came in, and you returned to your job.
Little did you know, Foreman was taking matters into his own hands despite your protests. The team liked you, there was no denying it, so of course he turned to Cuddy because of what you'd said. It was hard to believe, especially when you typically had a strong relationship with House, even when he was being childish.
House was in his office when Cuddy went search for him, her hands on her hips. He stared blankly upon her arrival, a frown on his face as he waited for what she had to say.
"You're going to make her quit,"
"Her?" House asked, shaking his head and shrugging as he waited for an elaboration. He looked toward the office door to see the team staring at him with disapproving looks, which caused him to sigh and roll his eyes, "Y/n's choices are not my fault."
“You’re pathetic,” Cuddy muttered. House shrugged. To him, there was no point in denying it. Cuddy clenched her jaw, “I thought you liked her!”
“She’s ear grating, like you,” Lisa frowned and House shrugged once more.
“I can’t lose another good doctor because of your antics, House,”
She spun on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving House to his own thoughts.
It was early in the evening, you’d showered and done some dishes, when there was a knock on your door. You were less than enthusiastic to open it, especially after peering through the hole to see House on the other side. He leaned on his cane lazily, a bag of what was clearly takeout food in his other hand as he looked down at you.
“What do you want?”
“I come bearing food,” he held the back up to emphasize his point.
You rolled your eyes and moved to slam the door in his face, but it made contact with his cane instead. House let himself in, limping toward your couch and plopping on it. The smell of the Chinese takeout hit your nose, making your mouth water as you pushed the door shut the rest of the way and turned to face the man on your couch.
“What do you want?” You repeated, less than enthused and lacking the emotion you usually had when speaking to House.
“Not a lot of hospitals would be willing to take you,” he spoke matter of factly. He dug into the brown paper bag, pulling out bulls of food and beginning to eat out of his own, “Foreman struggled to get a new job when he had to leave—“
“Foreman was accused of malpractice, and caught,” you reminded House.
“Malpractice is a common occurrence in this hospital, you think any other Dean would hire someone who’s worked with me? You’re poorly mistaken, Dollface,”
“You’re a piece of shit,” you spat, shaking your head and storming into the kitchen, “You know that?”
“I just call em like I see em,”
“If you don’t have anything genuine to say, then leave,”
There was silence, and then you heard your couch creak as he got up. Good, he got the point. That was what you thought until you heard his cane moving across the linoleum floor of your kitchen. You turned to see Greg House standing over you, and you gulped.
“What do you expect me to do here?” He questioned.
“Oh I don’t know, apologize?” You countered, side stepping him to grab a glass from a cupboard, “I was helping you. Making sure you were okay and not going to do something stupid after losing a patient — but apparently that wasn’t good enough, hm?”
“Y/n—“
“No, all I wanted to do was help you,” you faced him, “everybody in that damned hospital does what they can to help you, and this is how you repay us? That’s real shitty, House.”
House. Unlike everyone else, you rarely used his last name when talking to him. When speaking of him, sure, when in professional settings, almost always. But never in the privacy of you two or amongst friends. That’s when he realized the reality of what he’d caused.
“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he spoke, taking a step toward you. He leaned his cane on the counter and placed his hands on your waist. You didn’t move your arms from your sides, merely looking into his blue eyes to see if he was being genuine.
It seemed too good to be true.
“Accept the apology before I’m forced to take it back,”
And there it was.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” you muttered, moving your hands to rest on his biceps. House squeezed your waist, knowing that he got what he wanted. You rose to your tip-toes, your lips just barely touching his before you pulled away, “Now come on: that take-out is calling my name.”
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kinopio-writes · 6 months
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Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?
Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)
I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!
A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.
Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.
Words: 2,328 (edited)
Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam
———
Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader
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• ha, this man is also sensitive himself
• well, sensitive about himself
• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive
• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam
• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours
• you easily know what makes someone tick
• you’re selfless
• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize
• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves
• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better
• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable
• you’re everything he isn’t
• because you fit in Heaven perfectly
• you deserve to be there
• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)
• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself
• and he’s envious of it
• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar
• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you
• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)
• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to
• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say
• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)
• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often
• he definitely makes fun of you for it
• and also mocks you
• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too
• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset
• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!
• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more
• and he…doesn’t like it
• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you
• and the fact that you hog all the attention
• and the fact that people see you as perfect…
• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?
———
Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.
You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.
When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.
HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)
Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.
You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.
Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.
You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.
SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)
You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.
DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)
You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.
i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)
When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.
Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.
Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.
You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.
•••
“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”
Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.
When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”
Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.
“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.
“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”
You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.
Not as if Adam had much to say about that…
You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!
You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.
It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.
“What’s this?”
“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”
“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”
“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.
•••
Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.
You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.
He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.
But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.
Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.
Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.
As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.
You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.
The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.
You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.
He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”
You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”
“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”
You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.
Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.
You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”
His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.
He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.
“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.
“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”
“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”
“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.
“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.
While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.
“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.
You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”
“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.
Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.
“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”
“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”
You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.
That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.
Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.
“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.
He…didn’t think you could cry.
Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?
So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.
You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.
You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.
You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.
No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.
No one had ever let you be sad.
Adam heard you sob.
Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?
But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.
So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.
Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.
The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.
Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”
Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.
“Yeah, whatever…”
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hotpinkstars · 4 months
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HIIII I JUST READ YOUR BOOTHILL IDEA ABOUT PREGNANCY AND I AM WELL FED 😭 i love how angsty it is. oh boy i'm sure struggles a lot during his s/o's pregnancy. like...it has lots of cry and self-conflict because he may thinking that he isn't helping his s/o. there gonna be small arguments and misunderstandings. it's hard for the both of them and the baby. 🥹
ohhhh yes. yup. decided to take a real angsty route with this one. I added some mentions of his actual backstory here, bc my og one was written before his backstory was released lols
Boothill definitely cries during your whole entire pregnancy. He also has a lot of bad thoughts about himself during it, too. 
At first, he tries to hide it, and either subtly cry, or just simply wait until you’re no longer in the room or the house. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s not happy because of the state he’s in. 
He used to be human, he used to be flesh, and most importantly, he once had a daughter of his own, and that's what crushes him the most. He fears so much that he’s almost going to replace her, even though he knows deep down in his heart that it most definitely wouldn’t be able to happen. 
He also feels so bad about not being able to do normal human things for your during your pregnancy :(((( he knows how much you want to be able to be soft and intimate, to take baths and be able to have a cozy massage and just a cozy person around in general, and he’s the exact opposite of that. He doesn’t even think he deserves the husband title anymore.
He literally once asked you why you’re still with him and not someone else. You explained that you loved him and you wanted to be with him, and even then he never really expressed the way he felt about himself to you but you could sort of see it in his eyes. He didn’t like the way he was and the fact that he can’t be what he refers to as a “proper dad” to his kid. 
He knows it’s hard on you, too, and he also knows that you’re catching onto his harsh thoughts, and you’re catching on fast. It caused an argument a few times, on how you’re hurt that he’s not expressing his emotions, he doesn’t want to, it turns into a “do you not trust me or something?” conflict on your end, and a “I just don’t know what to say without hurting you” conflict on his end. Misunderstanding that likely won’t just dissipate. 
There was one argument that you both had when you were nearing pretty close to your due date, and he decided he was going to walk out midway through and not come back for about a week. For some reason, he chose a petty route, leaving you anxious and super betrayed, considering he refused to answer his phone, too.
The argument was over something that seemed incredibly stupid, if you both must say so yourselves. He was, once again, insecure, and he wouldn’t tell you why. That was what bothered you- did he not trust you enough? Did he seriously not want to be a part of this baby's life? Why else would he just walk out?
To say it made you super anxious, scared, and lonely was an understatement. You were left with the thought that you’d have to give birth alone, and go back to your original game plan that you already mentally set up. You thought he genuinely left you.
That was, until he walked back into the house on a random afternoon that next week. He ran up to you and apologized, allowing you to cry it out in his steel arms. He felt so horrible, and he vowed to you to never, ever do that again.
He tries to start letting you in on his troubles from that point on, but there still seems to him like there's a barrier blocking his words from coming out. Sometimes, he just blames it on his synesthesia beacon, which seems to work for now. 
He also lets you see him cry more often, but that stops when you give birth. He doesn’t need you to be more overwhelmed than you already will end up being.
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halemerry · 1 year
Text
So there’s understandably a lot out there examining the painful/emotional parts of this season, but I just wanted to take a second to acknowledge something really important that is a bit... maybe not lighter in tone but something worth celebrating.
Because like, even if he seems a bit directionless and frustrated, Crowley actually is pretty happy this season?
He’s making progress. He’s letting himself have things he wouldn’t have ever before - even if it's not exactly the thing he wants the most. He's letting himself be himself. He's not censoring instincts and impulses to nearly the same degree and it's actually pretty remarkable.
Like, okay, yes, Crowley is pretty lost now that he exists outside the toxic structure he has been operating under for millenia. And, yes his safety net with Aziraphale and the structure they operate in has also crumbled a bit because so much of that structure was built around what they were and weren’t allowed to safely do within the toxic structure. But, I actually do think this season does a lot to show that even if this struggle is very real and has consequences that aren’t all objectively good, freeing himself from that structure is a net good.
He smiles more. He laughs more. He sprawls more. He seems generally more physically relaxed and comfortable trusting his instincts without having to check everything he’s doing or saying against Hell. And this state of existence isn’t dependent on Aziraphale being present either. It’s just him being him and becoming comfortable with what that means.
And it wasn't a snap your fingers bam you're better situation either. It takes work and time to break old instincts. I mean, years have passed and we’re still struggling to let anyone say that we are nice. But significantly his instinct isn’t to snarl or physically lash out. It’s to roll his eyes or half heartedly object or maybe throw in a light growl for old times sake. And, sometimes, the instinct is to grin like a self satisfied loon as you contradict the nice human who implied you were nice.
Crowley is now in a place where his impulses to be kind are things he’s allowed to give into now and, even if he’s doing so under a veneer of snark and sneer, he is letting himself do that. He’s making sure the people around him are caring for ducks properly. He’s admitting he was worried about Aziraphale and cooing at his own car. He’s apologizing for accidentally locking people into coffee shops and openly helping them get out without even stopping to think about how maybe doing so might clue them in that he’s not quite what he seems. He's helping Shax learn her way around earth, even when she’s actively working against him and Aziraphale.
Even when interacting with Jim, who brings out the most of Crowley’s negative reactions and masks, his instincts are just as often to be gentle as they are to be angry. So long as Jim isn’t actively setting off alarm bells in Crowley’s head Crowley is so patient with him. He explains gravity unprompted and proceeds to include Jim in on his planning to get Nina and Maggie together. After his initial explosion at Jim’s presence the next two are immediately followed up by him getting upset and then backing off of Jim. He starts to threaten Jim when he’s reminded Aziraphale is in danger and then nearly immediately backs off of that, acknowledging there’s no point in it. And then, of course, after he nearly talks Jim into jumping out a window and pressures him into extracting more information from his brain he feels guilty enough to then offer Jim an act of care and service. It's such a stark difference from the guy we see even this season needing to put a layer between himself and anything good he does by either denying thanks outright or putting the blame on being under some influence.
And it’s startling how much we see him smile this season and how many different versions of that we get. From the genuine delight on his face when he thinks Operation Lovebird is working to the pleased little smirk he gives Aziraphale through the window when he watches him bring order to the arguing angels and demons in his shop, to the little smile of familiarity when he wonders what happened to Mr Dalrymple - Crowley smiles a lot compared to the first season. And it doesn't matter where he is either. He has a delightful time in Heaven, snickering and grinning to himself nearly the entire time he's prancing around there. And that’s not even getting into his dorky little snort laugh that pops up a few times throughout the season.
And I just. It’s so nice that this show doesn’t want to deny that what Aziraphale and Crowley are doing is hard but also that it doesn’t want to wallow in that struggle either. It never wants to frame that what they earned at the end of season 1 has doomed them but it isn't afraid to show the speed bumps that the system they were in is causing them on their way to happily ever after. They’re allowed to be happy. They're allowed to struggle with getting there. This is allowed to be a good thing for them, even if it sometimes takes work.
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les4elliewilliams · 5 months
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OK OK HMO
How about ellie giving reader anal as a punishment kinda thing for coming home so late after a party?? PLS I LOVE MEAN ELLIE
omgomg. I swear I'm so obsessed with mean Ellie. Sure, she's lovely and she can be such a sweet, caring, thoughtful girlfriend. Put your health and well-being above everything else, but at the same time, she can be a big meanie. And all I can think of is that one coworker!ellie fic I wrote not too long ago. She's such a meanie, I would love to fight her ass for hours to be honest, even for no reason at all; just seeing her getting all riled up and fuming red is such a turn on?????? like be mean to me i'll cum. ANYWAYS!!
cw ; wc: 4k words approximately. anal sex, smut (no shit! ik.). she accuses you of cheating, and she won't let you cum ;( dom!ellie if it wasn't obvious. kind of rushed towards the end and not proofread, sorry :((
MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.
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Afterparty punishment.
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As you stepped out of the Uber, you were blinded by the bright glow of your phone's screen. You stared at all the lost calls and texts from your girlfriend, chewing on your bottom lip. Though you had heard your phone ringing, you wanted to stay longer with your friends and unwind after a long and stressful week at work. But your girlfriend had made it clear that she expected you to be home by midnight, and it was already 3 in the morning. You couldn't help but wish that she was sound asleep by the time you entered your small shared apartment — but you knew it was unlikely. You had a strong feeling that she was up, waiting for you, probably ready to lash out at you for being so late and not answering any of her calls or texts. You could already feel the tension rising as you approached your apartment complex.
You carefully turned the key in the lock, twisting it slowly and quietly, hoping not to disturb her in case she had dozed off while waiting for you to return home. As you pushed the door open, you could hear the low hum of the television set emanating from the living room. You tiptoed forward, trying not to make any noise, but just as you stepped into the room, she turned her head to look at you. Despite the calm expression on her soft features, you knew that she was anything but relaxed. Her eyes bore into you with a piercing intensity, and you could feel the full force of her anger emanating from her. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were fixed on your every move, waiting for you to speak first. You could tell that she was furious, and you braced yourself for the storm that was sure to come, letting out a long sigh.
You were the one who broke the silence first "Hi babe." your voice sounded gentle and subdued, your facial expression tinged with a hint of guilt. You slid your coat off your shoulders and hung it by the hooks on the wall. The air inside felt different than when you left to go to your best friend's party, and you could sense something was off. Her voice was soft yet firm and harsh as she replied, "Hey." She didn't even sound as sweet as she did when she said goodbye to you before you left. You kicked your heels off and left them by the door, not bothering to put them away even though you often yelled at Ellie for leaving her worn-out sneakers by the door.
"Where the hell have you been?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in anger as she stood up from the couch and marched over to you. Her previously calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by frustration and annoyance. Her face was freckled and scrunched up in anger, as she struggled to contain her emotions. "I'm so sorry, I was stuck in a traffic j-" you began, your voice apologetic. But it was clear that she was infuriated with you. She had called you multiple times, texted you, spammed your phone, but you never answered any of her calls. As time passed, she became increasingly worried that something might have happened to you and couldn't believe you could be so careless. She scoffed at your attempt to make up an apology, knowing that it was a lie, she wasn't buying it. She looked at you skeptically, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "A traffic jam?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You expect me to believe you were stuck in the traffic for over three hours?" She shook her head and let out a loud sigh of disapproval. It was clear that she thought you could have come up with a better excuse.
Just when you were about to respond to her rhetorical question, the woman abruptly raised her hand to signal you to keep quiet. "Don't even try to give me that bullshit," she scolded, her voice rising in anger. "You could have at least answered my calls or texted me back. But no, you just leave me sitting here, not knowing where you are or if you're okay." Her frustration was palpable, and she wasn't done yet. "I trusted you to be home by midnight. Do you have any idea how late it is?" she continued, her voice even louder and more incensed. Her arms were tightly crossed, causing her biceps to bulge, and you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on them for a few seconds longer than necessary. So fucking toned, she was too fucking fine even when fuming red and when she looked like she was about to strangle you.
You stood there before her, silent and unmoving as she let loose her verbal barrage. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as she continued to scold you. She's all fired up, and you could feel the heat emanating from her body. "It's three in the damn morning," she growled, her words like daggers in your ears. She didn't leave any room for an argument, as if you had any reason to protest. The anger that fuelled her words didn't dim her beauty, though. Despite the situation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of desire wash over you as you watched her. With her black tank top hugging her curves and torso perfectly, her bulging bicep muscles inviting you to come closer, run your fingertips over her smooth and freckled skin, just like you usually did in the bedroom. The fire in her eyes, her commanding presence, and the way her body moved with each angry gesture all combined to create a powerful aura that was almost...hypnotic. You found yourself inching towards her, your tongue running along your bottom lip, not that she seemed to notice, too busy lashing out at you "Just because I leave you the freedom to go out with your friends doesn't mean you can leave for that long and be completely unreachable," she spat, her lips curling up in disdain. The rage in her voice was like a torrential downpour, drenching you in her fury.
You let out a laugh and watched her face shift from surprise to confusion and eventually to anger. She towered over you, her towering frame casting a shadow over you. "Oh you think this is funny? You think this is fucking funny?" she spat out, her musky scent invading your nostrils as she stepped closer. She took a deep sniff, "What, are you drunk too?" she asked with disdain, this time actually waiting for you to talk "Just tipsy, El."
A scowl etched across her face, the lines around her mouth and between her brows more pronounced. "Who were you with? Cause I'm sure someone kept you there, am I right?" she accused you, her voice low and husky, as if she was battling with her thoughts and emotions. Her words carried a hint of insecurity, a slight crack in her usual confident facade. Her jealousy was a sign of her affection, a sign that she cared deeply for you and feared losing you. She has always been overthinking it since she met you. You were so perfect, too perfect. Out of her league. She knew she was wrong for accusing you, yet her anger and insecurities overtook her logic. It was like a fever that burned deep within her, urging her to let her emotions take control. But she also knew she could trust you, you had proven her multiple times. You were the only thing in her life that gave her a sense of stability, and she was terrified of losing that. Even as she raged and accused, there was a part of her that wished she could take it all back, but the damage was done. She had let her emotions get the best of her, and she didn't know how to fix it, yet she couldn't bite her tongue. "Ellie, are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you?" You felt a sense of disbelief and hurt at her accusatory tone, your eyes narrowing as you tried to understand why she would say such a thing.
"I don't fucking know. Did you?" Words kept slipping from her lips, dripping with venom and malice. You could almost feel the weight of her anger pressing down on you, suffocating you with her wrath. She crossed her arms over her chest like a fortress, her eyes narrowing as she watched you with a mix of uncertainty and suspicion. Her body language was rigid as if she were trying to hold back an explosion of emotion beneath the surface. Her jealousy was undeniable, like a fire burning in the pit of her stomach, consuming her from inside.
"Are you dumb?" you exclaimed. You had never given her any reason to doubt you, so her words hit you like a blow to the gut. Despite her insecurities, she had never accused you of anything like this before, and it left you feeling hurt and confused. Your chest felt tight as if the accusation had left a physical imprint on your body, making it hard to breathe. You looked at her with a mixture of anger and disbelief, not quite sure of how to respond. "Are you a whore?" Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to process what she had just said, and a flush of anger and arousal spread across your chest like wildfire. Your cheeks flamed with a blush, but you tried to suppress it, not wanting her to know how deeply her words had affected you.
"Excuse you?!" You snapped. She kept gazing at you like a laser beam, drilling into your soul. You were unable to move or speak as she stood over you, her toned arms crossed as if daring you to speak out of turn. You were simply speechless, your words dying in your throat, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a ton of bricks. "Did I stutter?" She repeated, her words dripping with sarcasm, and you could see the fury in her green irises. You were left speechless, your mouth open but no sound escaping your lips. "Take your clothes off," she demanded you, her voice low and firm; you were frozen in shock as her words hit your ears. You felt your heart start to race at her words, your mind struggling to comprehend what she was asking you. "Wha-" but she cut you off, predicting your question "Your actions have consequences," her tone stern and unforgiving.
There you were, bent over on the couch, your ass prominently displayed for her hungry and unforgiving eyes and your weight balanced precariously upon the palms of your hands sinking into its cushions, you found yourself in a vulnerable position while her eyes devoured every inch of your exposed skin. She loved the sight of your fucking ass on display for her...man, she was loving every second of it. Love bites covered your collarbone, boobs, and neck. She was rougher than usual – not that you minded, of course. She stood behind you, adorned only in a pair of sleek, black boxer shorts and a strap that hung close to your dripping entrance. The anticipation mounted as she teased and taunted, never actually fucking you like you were begging her to, instead, choosing to punish and drive you insane. She knew the effect she had on you; this was some sort of game to her, a punishment, and she was playing expertly. You were making a mess on the couch, so wet, she swore she had never seen you this needy and desperate for her. Upon your left ass cheek, the imprints of her five fingers stung gently as she kept slapping over the same spot whenever you'd talk back to her with an attitude or when you'd try to ride her black strap, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying this one bit.
She held your beloved vibrator dangerously close to your achingly responsive nub at the gentlest setting, but that was enough to send ripples of ecstasy coursing through your throbbing core, making your hips buck into her to seek for more, but again, she wouldn't give it to you. You groaned softly as she hovered over you, "Please, baby, fuck me, please..." You pleaded and pleaded, but she didn't budge. "What is it that you want, hm? My dick?" you whimpered when she set the purple wand pressed onto your clit to a different speed, making your hips wiggle and move around slightly; she knew you were close. "Don't you dare fucking cum without asking first" her voice ringing in your ears like a drumbeat. It was a harsh, demanding tone, but there was something almost musical about it, an undertone of raspy sensuality that turned your stomach in knots. "PleasePlease'mclose" You begged her for mercy, your voice pleading and desperate. You were completely at her mercy, utterly dependent on her for your release. "Baby..." She murmured softly, her voice like velvet laced with silk. This gentleness nonetheless held a mocking undertone that suggested further torture awaited you, leaving a few damp kisses on your back as she supported her half-upper body on your sticky and sweaty back. "If you had been home by midnight, none of this would happen." The gentle reminder hung in the air, another cruel twist of the knife, as she denied you the sweet release you so desperately sought, determined to prolong your punishment for the time being. It was the second time she was doing this, driving you fucking insane. Your walls clenched around emptiness, your whimpers growing increasingly pitiful and urgent. "Ellie... please, I'm going to cum," you pleaded softly. Unable to resist, you thrust your hips backward, seeking more of her; you needed her to fuck you badly, but she wouldn't even fucking touch you. You've been begging and begging for an hour now, still fucking nothing. When she heard you gasp, her emerald eyes traced downward, taking note of the tip of her strap, embedded in your drenched pussy. what a fucking slut, she thought to herself.
With a disapproving click of her tongue, she withdrew, leaving you to emit a frustrated whine and an empty feeling behind; your wispy brows furrowed in despair, a picture of helpless longing. "Pleasepleaseplease... need you so badly," you pleaded, your voice wavering and weak. "I want to come on your cock" You failed to persuade her, it gradually dawned on you that she was immune to your usual tactics. A mournful groan echoed through the room as she turned the toy off, your neglected clit throbbing almost painfully. "Ellie, plea-" you began, only to be silenced by her stern interruption "How many hours were you late?" but you sighed, trying to apologize again "Baby, I'm so-" Her hand landed forcefully on your asscheek, followed by a gentle caress to soothe the lingering burn. This contradiction between tenderness and roughness sent shivers through you. An involuntary yelp escaped you, your hips involuntarily flinching away, only to be swiftly guided back into position. "Answer. The. Question, slut." she steely commanded  "Three... three hours," you stammered, your voice thick with lingering desire, your breathing laborated.
Her voice, a mix of raspiness and sweetness, offered an ultimatum, "Last one before I actually let you cum, hmm?"
Three hours late, three orgasms taken away from you.
Finally thrusting into your aching hole and fucking it relentlessly just to pull out of you when you were about to cum. What a fucking dick.
Your body was trembling, your heart racing as you were completely out of breath. Every inch of you felt hypersensitive like you were on the verge of breaking apart. The sensations were overwhelming, almost too much to bear and she wasn't done with you yet.
"Please, may I now?" you implored, your gasps ragged. Mockingly, she replied, "Don't think you can handle it." Ellie teased, her voice dripping with playfulness, you could sense the mischievous grin appearing upon her freckled face in her voice, even if you couldn't see her. "You've got to be fucki-" Your protest was silenced mid-sentence, curtailed by her stern retort "Language. You want to cum or not?" Despite her harshness, amusement lurked beneath. Reaching for the forgotten lube on the coffee table, her weight shifted on her knees, her restlessness palpable; both of your and her knees were starting to hurt, but neither of you seemed to care enough. You exhaled, attempting to quell your nerves. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" she grumbled, twirling the cap between her nimble fingers. "I was worried, waiting here for you the whole time..." she confessed. "I lost track of time," you conceded, partly honest. You just wanted to drink with your friends, have fun, and stay out late. Was that so wrong?
You glanced over your shoulder, your head tilting ever so slightly, capturing her fluid motions as she opened the lube bottle, filling her palm with its slippery contents. When she noticed your fascinated gaze, she smacked your asscheek once more, this time setting your sensitive skin aflame. A whimper escaped you, "Eyes on the clock, princess," she crooned menacingly. "Needa learn how to not lose track of time, yeah?" she had this mocking tone going on, you winced "Stings..." your voice tinged with vulnerability as frustration smoldered in her eyes, eliciting a venomous "Maybe next time you''ll actually answer your fucking phone when I'm calling you" Your eyes darted to the clock hung on the wall before you, searching for some way to gauge the time that had passed. Each second felt like an eternity as your lungs burned with each breath, desperate for the relief withheld from you. The tick-tock of the clock only made the anticipation more intense, each sound like a taunt aimed at you. You couldn't help but wonder what she was planning next.
"I said I'm sorry" but your apology met deaf ears once again. "Sorry isn't enough for me, pretty" her skilled calloused fingers coated your asshole with slick; you couldn't still your restless hips, and the auburnette, anticipating your withdrawal, clasped your waist firmly. "Stop moving, damn it! Just hold still for a moment." Frustration simmered beneath her plea, your restlessness seriously testing her patience.
"Ellie!" you whined, struggling in vain, her strong grasp upon your hip muscle holding you in place. "I thought we agreed on no anal," you argued, but she swiftly shot back, "I thought we agreed you'd be home by midnight." You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes in defiance. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, your heart pounding in your ears, and yet, you were too fascinated by the power dynamic created between the two of you. 
"Fucking cunt," The words slipped from your lips unintentionally. You heard the slap before you felt it, a sharp and burning sting on your exposed skin. Your flesh felt on fire almost instantly, a reminder of the power that she held over you; the pain was an added layer to the excitement, and you were grateful for the rush of adrenaline it provided. "Still talking back, huh? Have you learned nothing?" Her voice was low but firm, a tone that shook your very core, sending chills down your spine. The power it held over you was like a drug, an exhilarating rush that left you absolutely desperate. You loved being put in your place, even if you'd never admit it out loud.
"Oh, but you can call me a whore?" She didn't even acknowledge your words, dismissing them with an airy huff. "Cause s'what you are." she muttered under her breath, her thumb tracing a wet path through your glistening folds, collecting the sweet nectar. An involuntary whimper escaped your lips, a hum of acknowledgment mingling with her words. "Look at this fuckin' pussy, god. You love when I'm mean to you, don't you?" she mused aloud. You were so fucking wet that it almost shocked her; she definitely was going to do this more often. Who knew you'd get so turned on while arguing? "Bet, this is why you always startin' shit" she accused you, chuckling dryly.
"Shut up," you pouted, she readjusted your posture with meticulous precision, her tattooed forearm brushing against her sweat-dampened brow, the silicone cock secure in her grip. She pressed the head against your resistant entrance. Before doing anything, sweet words of reassurance fell from her lips, a gentleness in her voice that you hadn't expected, but she still cared about your well-being and comfort; she loved you to death, after all. "Relax, babe... Last thing I wanna do is cause you pain." You felt your muscles relax as you listened to her; she let out a sigh before guiding it in slowly. "Fuck fuck!" Your cry of distress melted into a plea for relief, her thumbs pressing into your dimples of Venus for stability.
"Get the vibrator, baby," she commanded, pausing her invasion momentarily, allowing you to seek solace in the pulsing violet wand, the intense vibrations reducing the pain. "Ellie!" you cried out, amplifying the toy's relentless hum while she resumed her actions. "Ugh... You're so fucking tight," she grunted, her thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your spine, a balm to soothe your sensitive nerves. 
"Ahh!" you gasped as she filled you fully, her digits digging into your supple curves, latching onto tender flesh. She drove her fake cock deeper into your tight stretched passage, letting your hole adjust to her size, stretching it out so good. Your hips sought hers in response, hungrily pursuing every retreat she made, and she laughed softly as soft moans were spilled from your lips. "Ohhh look at you. You fucking brat," immaculate moans spilled forth, painting a picture of pure pleasure and pain on your features. Your eyes rolled involuntarily in the back of your skull, the wand's vibrations maintained a steady assault on your nub, and the surroundings became faint murmurs.
She paused briefly, taking note of your trembling legs before lifting you effortlessly towards her, her chest pressed against your dampened back, you could feel her hard nipples pressed against your drenched skin. Her left hand groped your budding tit, as the other replaced your quivering hand with her own, the violet toy vibrating on your aching nub with renewed vigor. Your panting cries reverberated throughout the apartment and in her ears, mixed with frustrated squirms. It was fucking music to her ears. "Baby, fuck..." You were struggling, completely blissed out of your mind. Your eyes were stuck in the back of your head, your mind lost in pleasure. The sensations were becoming too much, unbearable. The toy's vibration was set higher, causing you to squeal and squirm in her hands. It was like being caught in a whirlwind, a tornado of sensations that were pushing you on the edge. Her hand teased and twisted the nipple between her fingers, her touch almost feathery in its softness. She was in control, and you were just her plaything. She hummed back, covering the purple marks on the side of your neck with persistent kisses as her strap continued to slide in and out of you. "Close, angel?" She hummed against the soft skin of your neck, and the vibrations tickled as she moved closer pressing a few more kisses on your skin. You could feel her breath on your skin, warm and inviting. She savored every little sound you let out for her; the sounds she forced out of you were all hers. She was making you feel this good, no one else.
Your hand intertwined with the one that rested on your breast, and your other hand reached for her, your fingertips tangled in her auburn hair, as she continued to attack your neck with kisses and your tight hole with her harsh thrusts. "Close...hmmm...p-please" Your whimpers filled the air like a sweet melody, one that seemed to echo in your girlfriend's ears for a prolonged time. "Not gonna pull out this time, princess. I promise," she reassured you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, yet they held an undeniable power over you. You felt as though you were melting into her arms, "Gonna be a good girl and listen to me for once?" which had you nodding vigorously, the hand between your thighs covered by a whole waterfall, you were so wet, she could hardly believe her eyes. "Alright, bunny. Cum for me, yeah?" she didn't even need to tell you twice, you've been holding it for so long that it felt good to finally let go. A tidal wave crashed upon you, the walls of your posterior clinging desperately to her strap.
You collapsed on all fours once again, your hands sinking into the cushions of the worn-out couch. The sound of your cries filled the air, and you were completely breathless. Your chest felt like it was on fire, the heat spreading throughout your body with a ferocity that you had never felt before. The sound of her breathing mixed with your ragged breaths. She slowly pulled out of your ass and discarded the purple toy somewhere on the floor.
"I was right by the way" Ellie suddenly said, leaving you puzzled. Her tone was triumphant, and you couldn't quite figure out what she was talking about. "'Bout what?" As you struggled to catch your breath, you managed to utter a few words, each one punctuated by a deep inhale and a ragged exhale. "You're a whore" you turned around, she greeted you with a playful tone. You couldn't help but notice her rosy cheeks and the glistening of her sweaty skin, with droplets of sweat rolling down her temples. Her lips curved into a cocky smirk, making you scoff in response. "And you're a cunt." you quickly responded back in the same playful tone.
"Need me to teach you another lesson?" She teased, beckoning you to nestle on top of her, your body adhering to her freckled, sticky skin. Trying to suppress your grin, you muttered "Shut up" in a lighthearted tone; she bursted out laughing at your reaction, finding it amusing.
"You better always be on time from now on," she said in a fake stern tone, her eyes fixed on you. "I learned my lesson," you replied, trying to sound apologetic. But deep down, you knew that you were going to repeat the same mistake, just to receive this kind of attention and treatment from her again. Unable to resist the thrill and the rush of adrenaline that came with being punished scolded from her.
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¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
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itsphoenix0724 · 1 year
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Promises (Rhysand x Reader)
Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.
Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain
Word Count: 1.7k
Part 2
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3
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You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.
It’s been a long week. 
It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 
You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 
“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 
“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 
“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 
You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 
“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.
“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 
“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 
“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 
“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 
“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 
“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 
“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 
“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 
“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 
“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 
“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 
It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 
“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 
“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 
“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 
“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 
“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 
“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 
“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 
“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”
“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 
“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 
“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 
What the fuck had he done?
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