#honestly I was a little intimidated by her
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rafelandia · 2 days ago
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Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby (Rafe x fem!reader): Chapter One
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Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: Y/N is new to the island and Rafe seeks asylum in the bar she works at.
Author's Note: Hello! Wanted to say thank you for all of the love on my last few writings. The idea of Rafe not realizing he's falling in love, especially with someone he shouldn't, is so personal to me and honestly what made me create this blog in the first place - so here we go! This will be somewhat of a slow burn, friends-to-lovers-ish piece and I can't wait to hear what you all think! Likes and reblogs are obviously welcomed as well as any requests or questions (related to this fic or otherwise - I love drabbling about this man and will write about anything). Enjoy!
It was a rainy night when she first saw him. She was wiping down the counter top with a slightly mildewed rag when the door chime rang, signaling his entrance. He settled into the barstool furthest from the door, almost as if he was hiding from something. Prior to just now, she had been alone in the shitty, oceanside bar that threatened to capsize any day now. She liked it better this way, empty and quiet. Could play her own music, move at her own pace, even close up a little early if she got lucky.
She noticed immediately that he seemed out of his element, like he knew he shouldn't be here. Although she'd only moved here a few months ago, she'd gotten quite good at deciphering pogues from kooks. This man was no pogue. He'd tried to disguise himself - toned arms adorned in a knitted sweater covered in tiny beads of the salty rain. His jeans were tattered, but not from being worn out and washed a million times; like they were manufactured precisely to look like they'd been through hours of tough labor and dirt. What ultimately gave it away was his watch - she'd never seen metal reflect that brightly even in the shitty, yellow glow of the overhead lamps that hung above her. It had to be worth a good chunk of change.
He looked exhausted, stressed, tired, something like that. She knew that feeling. It had been hard starting over here on the island. It had been 3 months since she'd moved into the quaint townhouse further inland, away from most of the liveliness of the city. Making friends had proved to be quite difficult and she'd only just now managed to afford the sofa for her living room that she wanted.
She wasn't sure why, but she was nervous to approach him. He seemed important. Or intimidating at the very least, she wasn't sure. She walked quietly towards him, afraid to even disturb him with her footsteps. Baby blue eyes reach hers before she can greet him.
"Whiskey," he breaks the silence, fingers tapping on the warped wood of the bar top, "Neat."
Chewing on the inside of her lip, she offered him an empathetic smile and nod before turning to face the wall of liquor that lined the shelves.
"You seem out of place," she pointed out, her fingers wrapping around the thick glass bottle to remove the stopper.
"What makes you say that?" the man inquired, eyes pointed down and looking at the rings of water stains from all of the patrons that came here before him.
"Not that hard to tell. You keep bouncing your leg up and down like you're about to pounce and while you seem unassuming in that outfit, I can tell that that sweater is pretty expensive. Maybe it's the cologne, kinda hit me in the face as soon as you walked in. Could be the watch, too. I'm no expert but I think -"
"Okay, I get it," he cut her off with a chuckle as she slid his poison of choice towards him, "Kook caught in pogue territory."
She takes note of the disingenuous look on his face. He seemed to stiffen in his seat.
"You know I only moved here a couple of months ago, but I've noticed you people are obsessed with choosing sides," she thinks aloud, "Why the need to be so divisive?"
He chewed on her words while the thick, amber-colored nectar sloshed between his cheeks.
"Don't know honestly. You raise a fair question," he leans back in the stool, arm moving to drape across the one next to him.
She tried not to stare while she continued to wipe down the rest of the bar. Really, she should leave him alone she thinks. God only knows what kind of power this man holds and what he could do. Who was she to pry?
"Why did you come here to hide, then?" she asked. Fuck it.
The sun-kissed, stoic man across from her inhaled deeply through his nostrils and exhaled through his lips, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.
She thinks she's made a royal mistake before, surprisingly, he answers.
"Just wanted to go somewhere where people don't ask questions," he stated, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before focusing back to his drink that was nearing its end.
Heat crept up to her ears and her stomach turned in embarrassment.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath, "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be."
Her attention diverted back to her closing duties - refilling cocktail napkins and changing over the cooler filled with cut up fruits.
"It's alright," the man smiled as his fingers circled the rim of his glass, "Kinda nice to talk to someone that doesn't need something from me or needs me to fix something."
He notices the way her lips turn down slightly. She felt bad for him.
"You said you just moved here?" he continued.
"Y-yeah. Back in the spring," she stuttered, a sigh of relief taking over when she realized she hadn't ruined his evening.
"Where are you staying?"
"Um, bit of a commuter. I live a few miles inland so I think that marks me safe from the kooks and pogues war," she toyed.
He laughed at her, chest rising and falling with each chuckle.
"Guess it does. You liking it so far?" he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his words.
"It's alright. I mean, I've always loved the beach and the place I found was pretty cheap. Just wanted to get out of where I was before and see what sticks I guess."
The man nods in agreement, silently pondering what it would be like if he did the same. He'd had the impulse so many times. Just pack up and leave. But he's not that bold he thinks. A part of him is scared he won't mean anything to anyone if he steps foot off of Figure Eight.
"Seems nice. You on your Rumspringa or something?"
The woman standing across from him laughed loudly, caught off guard by his jest. Her cheeks flushed and glowing in the dingy lighting of the bar. They really needed to change the bulbs on the overheads.
"Something like that."
He's laughing at his own joke, relishing in the fact that he's made her smile. He's not sure why, but her laugh latches onto him, like the warm sun that bakes his shoulders on a hot and sunny afternoon. He likes it.
"It's really not all that bad at the end of the day," the man says in earnest, "Aside from the...societal tensions, for lack of a better word. It's a really beautiful island."
She's staring at him now. Initially, and shamefully, she'd assumed he was a prick. His kind had stumbled into this bar on occasion and they usually weren't very nice or talkative. They'd run up a tab, speak loudly and vulgarly about a business partner or a girl for hours before stumbling out of the door without tipping. But he seemed different. Like he'd been longing for a conversation that wasn't about closing a deal or for someone to genuinely just ask him how he was. There was something so human behind the eyes of someone you'd expect to be anything but.
"It is," she agreed, smiling at him sweetly, "You need another?"
He hadn't even realized his drink was empty.
Just before he could answer yes, the chime of a cell phone pierced the walls of the bar.
"Sorry," the man huffed, pulling the sleek, black phone from the pocket of his jacket that hung on the back of his stool.
His eyes grew heavy and he sighed when processed the contents of the message, hands moving to run across the lower half of his face in frustration.
"I actually gotta head out," he seemed disappointed when he spoke, now reaching for his wallet that was tucked away in the same pocket. "Is it always this dead in here?"
"More or less," she answered, "It's nice having the place to myself sometimes."
He grinned as she took his card from him. As she walked to the register, she glanced quickly at the name embossed on the plastic. Rafe Cameron.
"I bet," Rafe agreed. "Hard to find that around here these days. Guess I'll add it to my list of hiding spots."
The woman smiled coyly as she slid the clipboard towards him, card, pen, and receipt attached to the hinges.
"You know," she started, "We usually close the patio at 7, but if you ever need some quiet I won't tell anyone."
His eyes locked with hers for a brief second before moving to the receipt, signing his name with an unrecognizable scribble before standing up to redress himself with his coat. He smirked down at his feet, a hint of bewilderment taking over. Why was she being so nice to him? he thought.
He pressed his lips together, pretending to lock them with an imaginary key and patting his chest. Her "secret" was safe with him.
"Have a good rest of your night, Rafe Cameron," she said with a grin.
She's met with a similar smile, a slight dimple forming on the left side of his cheek.
"You too..," Rafe's eyebrow turning up in question.
"Y/N."
He nodded, feet trailing towards the dry rotted front door that inched towards collapse each time it swung on its hinges.
"Have a good night, Y/N," he stated before ducking out of the bar and back into the cool drizzle of the rain.
She went on about her night, grabbing Rafe's glass and placing it in a carton to be hauled off to the dishwasher in the back. Assuming that the rain had scared off any future customers, she decided to close up early and head home to her furry friend that was probably begging for some cuddles and neck scratches.
As she was balancing the drawer in her register, she looked at Rafe's receipt. He'd tipped her triple the cost of the whiskey. Chuckling silently to herself, she wondered if she'd ever see him again. Someone by law of the land she should probably be weary of, Y/N thought she wouldn't mind having someone like Rafe Cameron around.
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glassladyoftheopera · 15 hours ago
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In Stars and Time But It's a Musical (Part 1)
Okay hi I need to tell you all about this concept.
First off all I just need to say credit to @openphrase123 for the amazing 'ISAT but as a ballet' posts (here and also here and there definitely more but those are some of the big ones) which definitely inspired some choices here and in general inspired me to do this.
So basically I'm a big old musical theater person (and specifically musician / singer) so I've been fleshing out concepts for a what a musical re-telling of In Stars and Time might look like. I'm honestly not going to get into like... the logistics of how you could actually do it, because even with condensing a lot of things Musicals aren't typically long enough to tell this kind of story, so we're just... ignoring that when I don't have ideas to get around it.
We will start with all of the main characters, their voice types, and their characteristic musical styles!
Mirabelle Mira is our soprano, but mostly her singing and music is very much in the style of Disney Renaissance musicals. Think Belle, Ariel, Hercules, etc. I think it fits her up beat but still sometimes anxious personality. Near the end of each King Fight she gets a cool high notes as she finally has some true confidence in herself!
Bonnie Bonnie would be played by a younger performer with an unchanged voice. This wouldn't really be a dance heavy show, but when there is dancing they would take the lead b/c that's cute. In terms of their singing though it's mostly inspired by classic kid characters from Broadway, namely Annie, The Artful Dodger, and Matilda (especially for their more emotionally intense moments). Their music isn't as difficult, and in group numbers they typically sing the melody with at least one other person.
Odile Odile is the alto of the quintet. It helps her sound more mature than Mirabelle and fits her vibe of not taking on the flashy role. Her music leans a bit more classical, almost Gilbert and Sullivan-esque in her more playful moments. Overall though it tends to be a bit more melodically challenging, but not super fast or syncopated. There would be melodic and instrumental flourishes in her music unique to her that are basically 'Ka Buan' musical elements.
Isabeau Leading man baritone! His style also fairly standard musical theater, but leans a touch more modern in it's styling to accommodate his more emotionally open vibe. He'll have the pop-inspired rhythms and chord progressions, but in group numbers he's the rock solid bass part holding everything together.
Siffrin Siffrin... does not sing almost ever for the first chunk of the show outside of group numbers. He's a tenor, and helps fill out the harmonies, but the impression the audience should get at the start is that they aren't really a soloist. As the loops go on, they gain a bit more confidence, taking bits and pieces of all of the other character's musical / singing styles as they go on. They don't get a full length solo to themselves until Mal du Pays. But the character that most influences their style is...
Loop Loop is full on Broadway Jazz, baby! Syncopated rhythms, brassy sound, fast patter lyrics, the whole shebang. Don't look behind the curtain at what all that glitter might be hiding, stardust~
The King Super bass, in the tradition of opera villains usually being basses. At first the only super stand out thing about his singing is that his range is so distinct, but in later encounters he gets both more delicate moments and moments where the true power of his voice to intimidate comes through.
(Also yes all of the Forgotten Island peeps will have a few musical elements in common to set them apart don't you even worry we'll get to it :3)
Euphrasie The Head Housemaiden has a short little mini song she does for the first bit of her speech. It's simple and catchy. Every time it transitions into her final speech as the musical motifs are distorted.
Dormont The people of Dormont sing mostly in a grand opening number ala the opening numbers for Beauty and the Beast, Fiddler on the Roof, The Music Man, etc. Little bits and pieces of the song come back in various combos and Sif loops and jumps around asking people new things. They would also double as disembodied voices for certain musical numbers that could use extra voices for full out harmony, dramatic effect, etc.
More will be coming soon, so I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.
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ubeb0nes · 10 hours ago
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Gen. Sevika HCs (& Romantic!)
Brainstorming little thoughts on big mama to help me characterize her for a story i wanna write!
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She is actually very slow to anger, it’s just that Jinx is very gifted at pushing her buttons and she’s been dealing with Silco letting it slide for years. It’s part of what makes her such a scary opponent in a fight, she (usually) never loses her composure.
And on that note, i feel so bad that poor bbg had to lose most of her fights for the plot, especially in S1 😭 she definitely helped train Vi a little when she was younger
She's Silco's right hand in all ways. Whether someone needs to be beat down or a hand needs to be shook, Sevika is equipped in body and mind. Her physical presence lends itself well to subtle intimidation when she's cutting Silco's deals. Her default isn't to direct, brutish threatening actually, she avoids fights where she can especially as she gets older.
She's a very thoughtful person, spending a lot of time within her own mind or picking apart other people's. She's not as direct as Silco, who pushes people's buttons to get a sense of how their mind works, she just intently observes them. Honestly, she gives me similar vibes to Arthur Morgan in temperament the more I think about it. Honorable version, of course.
Continuing on her thoughtful trait, she had to learn to be very intuitive about people's emotions to avoid the wrath of her step-father. She appreciated her dad too late, spending more time butting heads with him than realizing how alike they truly were; so goes the theme of eldest daughters, though.
I imagine her as being very timid as a child. Not quite meek, but she wasn't as brash as teen Vi. She toughened up out of necessity, per the usual for kids growing up in Zaun, in order to defend her younger siblings (she has two) from her step dad once her father died.
Her father died in a mining accident. They never found his body, and even now sometimes Sevika hopes that he'll walk through the door and just… forgive her, for everything she has and hasn't done.
She was also pretty slight as a kid until about seventeen, where she proceeded to shoot up to 6'1" and started putting on muscle when Vander took her in under his wing. Her step dad never put his hands on her or her younger siblings again.
She was always closer to Vander than Silco. It truly did hurt her to turn her back on him, but she couldn't live with the slow death of complacency that he'd chosen for Zaun. She never goes through the process of fully grieving him, she simply pushes forward and carries on.
Romantic
Loyal to you like she's loyal to Zaun. Seriously, this woman doesn't know how to cheat. Not that the other women of Arcane are 'more' likely to cheat, but Sevika is the least likely imo. If she doesn't want you anymore she'll just break it off, anything less is cowardly and she is anything but.
She gets very cuddly and needy when she's tired which is often. She never asks for cuddles, just kinda uses her size to her advantage and pins you on the couch while she squeezes you like a stuffed toy.
"Mm… stop whinin', just five minutes…" She'll relent if you actually don't wanna be smothered, but unless you express that, you're hers until she says otherwise.
Calls you 'baby', 'sweetheart' and 'princess' the most. The last one started as a jab for either giving her attitude or being prissy, until she realized the flush on your face wasn't from anger. To others, she refers to you as her girl or says things like "no, me and the lady got plans" or "i promised the lady I'd be home on time Silco, you wanna piss her off too?"
Definitely got more where these all came from, lmk if you'd like me to continue!
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bonefall · 1 year ago
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do you ever worry your own writing might come off as misogynistic though? it seems deceptively easy
When you have anxiety, PTSD, OCD, or multiple of these things, every move you make is something you will self-doubt. It can become endless if you let it, and you can be frozen by absolute indescision.
Embrace the void and reach enlightenment with me; There are many ways to read a story, and no writer can pre-empt every possible interpretation. Not even myself.
If they think my work comes across as misogynistic? Let them. Salty amoebas are often wrong on the internet, but the block button and xkit are beautiful transwomen who are also my friends.
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feroluce · 9 months ago
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Thinking tonight about Caelus, and the nature of his loss and his grief after the Everything that went down in Penacony during 2.0.
Because Acheron, Black Swan, and Misha kind of knew of Firefly, they at least met her, but they didn't like really know her, and Caelus never even got the chance to introduce her to the rest of the Astral Express Crew. The only person who would have talked to her much was Sparkle, who is. Probably not really someone Caelus is interested in grieving with skznmsks
Anyway, all this to say, I like thinking about how alone poor Caelus is in his grief, because he was the only one who knew Firefly. He's the only one really mourning her. There's no one to talk about her with. There's no stories to trade or memories to reminisce with anyone over. It's not as though he knew her for long, but still. No one else knew her at all.
And I love the thought of all of this coming bubbling up, hot and acidic and bitter, during a conversation with Sampo, who Caelus just so happens to run into in the Golden Hour. Poor Sampo is kinda blindsided, he knew shit was going down in Penacony, but yeesh. And he just. Isn't quite sure what to say about it all, because he's never really encountered this before. His feelings about the Masked Fools are...a mixed bag, but he's been a part of them for a very long time, and when you're with a close organization like that, it's hard to feel alone, in grief or otherwise.
So Sampo sits there on their little bench that the two of them have occupied, and he thinks of his old friend April, how she'd died in his arms cackling and spitting her own blood after a heist gone wrong, and how after he'd dragged himself back to the World's End Tavern they'd all held a Fool's Funeral- which is basically just a big party where everyone gets really really drunk and reminisces and toasts the dead and celebrates their life.
He still thinks about her a lot, and he remembers how the time he'd most keenly felt her absence was on Jarilo-VI, the one place where he couldn't talk about her because he couldn't say anything to give himself away as an alien. The Fools still tell stories about her every time he goes back to the Tavern. His first toast of the night is always in her name. Even now, all these years after she'd died, Sampo is still learning new things about her. He's never had to grieve her alone.
Caelus doesn't have any of that.
He might never have that. As they speak, Caelus has no proof that Firefly was even her real name, or if she dreamt with her true appearance. He might not ever find out who she even was.
And just imagining that kind of loneliness hollows out a strange little pit, right behind his sternum, deep between his ribs.
So Sampo claps Caelus' shoulder and offers him a deal. Come find him outside of the dream. He knows a guy who can get them a lot of beer for really cheap-
("Is that guy you and your five finger discounts?" "Whatever do you mean, dear friend, I don't even know the meaning of the phrase, hehee.")
-and they can hole up in a bar or a hotel room or something, and get completely shitcanned. Tell him all about Firefly, tell him everything, and he'll tell Caelus about April and everyone else he's ever lost. Sampo will carry Caelus' memories of Firefly with him, and at least this way, Caelus will be a little less alone in remembering her. And the next time they cross paths, Sampo will be the one to bring her up, and to tell her stories, and Caelus can get to be the one listening. He won't have to be the only person to talk about her anymore.
Caelus rolls his eyes when Sampo avoids another remark about sticky fingers, but...ok, yeah. That sounds good. Nice, even. Thank you. Caelus bumps his shoulder against Sampo's. Sampo bumps back.
(They find each other again the next day, and true to their word, get themselves completely and utterly shitcanned. Caelus talks more than Sampo has ever heard him; every minute detail, every word choice, Firefly's every odd little mannerism and habit. Because Caelus wants to make sure this will outlive him, that even if the Stellaron dwelling within him finally burns him to a crisp and he really does up and kick the bucket, or even, godforbid, if he forgets, he wants to make sure someone remembers her. She deserved that.)
((And it takes quite a while, after that. Caelus doesn't see Sampo again until after everything has settled down. On his last day in Penacony, he finds the guy slinking out of a seedy back alley and all but runs right into him. Sampo happily leads him to some dive bar in an even seedier back alley that Caelus has never even heard of, and Sampo raises his glass. "To Firefly! Who sounds like she probably would have hated me at first, but I would have liked to have met her anyway."
And Caelus stares at him, almost looking startled, long enough that Sampo worries that he's read him wrong and brought this up too soon. He's halfway into planning how to talk himself out of this situation when Caelus finally throws back his head back and laughs, tells him that yeah, Firefly would have politely called him out on every lie he told, and all their conversations would take twice as long with the way Sampo is so full of shit.
And he can see it, the same way he watches and sees through everyone, that Caelus' eyes have a tightness to them, his knuckles are nearly white around the handle of his mug. But he smiles. He hits his glass against Sampo's far too hard and throws it back and gets foam everywhere like he does every time they drink because the guy's about as elegant as a raging bull, but those things don't lessen the genuineness of his smile.
The grief is there, but so is the elation, and those emotions aren't a sliding scale between one or the other. It is all of both and both at once, and that's what contents Sampo enough to throw his own mug back when Caelus makes a toast of his own, "to April!!".))
#caelus#sampo koski#hsr caelus#hsr sampo#sampo & caelus#honkai star rail#hsr#my fics#me a few days ago: my favorite silly little guys uwu#me today: ANGST#honestly I feel like this isn't even a super strong angst though#it's more just. bittersweet? melancholic? something.#I JUST. REALLY LOVE STORIES ABOUT THE NATURE OF GRIEF#and 2.0 laid the groundwork for that beautifully woohoo#I just remembered this probably isn't common knowledge oops but April is the cute red haired girl in Funny Bone#her name was revealed by the creators on twitter. she's named April like April Fools!#anyway I ship it hardcore now thanks bucket boi & studio#but anyway yes I love and adore the loneliness of the trailblazer's loss and grief after 2.0#because we know from Sunday that Firefly is “spiritually dead” but the trailblazer wouldn't have that knowledge#and they wouldn't know her identity or about any of her connections to other people#and I love that juxtaposed against Sampo and the possible strange nature of his own grief-#-given how the Masked Fools operate and how they see Elation in everything and everywhere#Sampo is no saint- like at all lol- but I do like him and Caelus getting along and being bros#and I don't think it would be terribly ooc for him to care about someone he sees as a genuine friend#he maybe rarely considers someone a genuine friend. but still dmxjjdjdk#listening to Sam's boss theme as I tag this... have been listening to it a lot ever since I finished 2.0 tbh#it's probably what inspired a lot of this haha#because it does sound strong and intimidating and imposing#but you can hear it#the heartbreak
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insectwmn · 1 year ago
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i have negative interest in watching sports, but every time i hear someone in my family say sexist shit about women’s sport my desire to start actively following only women’s sport out of spite gets stronger
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applepidotcom · 1 year ago
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going to work today (playing style savvy for a few hours straight) so I can hustle and get that bag (this game is literally so fun I just make up the funkiest and cutest outfits ever and I get paid good money and help fictional ppl)
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sparklyskies0 · 2 months ago
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𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 ౨ৎ m.s
pairings: badboy!bf!matt x goodgirl!virgin!reader
( 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 ) you and matt have been seeing each other for some time now. your parents don’t approve of him but you couldn’t care less─that’s the whole point, to prove that you’re no longer the little girl that follows the rules despite how it makes her feel. When your parents are away for the weekend, you invite matt over. Finally deciding to take the next step and give yourself to him completely.
warnings/disclaimers: smut, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions pain, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), nsfw..
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As you awaited matt’s arrival, you paced around your dimly lit room. The smell of your vanilla scented candle filling the air. You fiddled with your fingers; you were nervous. Matt has came over countless of times, behind your parents back of course. And you were never as anxious as you are now. Because you knew, how this night was going to end. Both of you, tangled in your satin bedsheets, your naked form against his. You knew you were going to finally lose your virginity. Give him all of you.
Your relationship with matt has been going on for a couple months now. Behind your parents back and even sometimes in their face. They don't like matt at all, he's exactly the kind of guy they had warned you to stay away from. They have expectations for you, they want you to become a lawyer to follow in your mothers footsteps, marry a man they think is perfect for you and basically be unhappy. Being with a guy like matt, would simply wound that perfect life your parents want you to have. Your whole childhood was dedicated to making them happy; skipping your dance classes, which you desperately wanted to go to for those stupid dinners with their rich friends who did nothing but brag about how smart and capable their kids were, getting straight A's instead of playing outside at the park with the other kids. You were always afraid of getting dirty because your parents made you. You weren't allowed thrill or excitement. Because clean, perfect good girls who are going to law school don't get dirty, ever.
Matt was the bad boy. the whole school knew about his record and the amount of girls he slept with. He had tattoos and a motorcycle and never went to class or followed any rules whatsoever. Girls want to be with him and guys are afraid to cross him. You never wanted to speak to him ever, he was far too intimidating. But that's exactly why you wanted him so bad. He's the complete opposite of you, his world doesn't, shouldn't align with yours. Your parents freaked when you brought him home and you loved it.
After a couple minutes you were snapped out of your worried thoughts by a knock at your window. you turned around, meeting him. He crouched down outside of the dormer window. A sly smirk on his face. A wide grin plasters on your face as you walk towards the window, pulling it up and open. As soon as he fully sets inside he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist pulling you closer towards him.
You squeal at his action. Your arms wrapping around his neck. "why'd you come through the window? i unlocked the front door for you, y'know" you look at him.
"where's the fun in that?" he responds, causing a soft giggle to leave your lips. Your eyes glued to his, occasionally roaming over his features, which is something you do a lot.
His blue eyes that are sparkling in the dim room mixed with the soft moonlight blaring through the window. His soft pale skin, pinkish lips, long perfect nose. You were honestly obsessed. You could stare at him all day.
When people look at him, they see a boy with a bad reputation. drugs, motorcycles, tattoos and fighting, someone who's going nowhere in life. But you don't, you see an actually sweet (when he wants to be) guy, who's trying but also can't help but rebel against everyone's wishes. They believe he's bad news, so he's giving them bad news.
You're almost starting to believe that you're in love with him. you know you are. But you won't tell him that, at least not yet. But you trust him so much, with everything. You know you're ready, ready to take all of him in every way.
Youve seen him naked before, and you know how big he is. Which is why your hearts beating so fast out of your chest right now. "what're we doin tonight, doll? a movie?, please don't say baking cus i don't think I'm mentally prepared for that this time" he says.. The last time you forced him to bake with you ending up with him burning his hand and a mediocre cake. You don't show it but your heart kind of flutters at the fact he didn't mention anything sexual despite the countless times he fingered you and ate you out, he doesn't expect it to happen all the time. But he didn't know that none of the things he listed were on your agenda for tonight.
you tilt your head slightly, "actually, i was thinking..." you trail off, hoping he can answer for you. his face changes, the smirk on his face growing wider. You feel him tug you closer. "oh.. i see" he brings his head down to your neck, placing a soft kiss to the flesh. His lips continue to pepper kisses all over your neck, and collarbone. your head falls back slightly, biting your lip.
a soft hum escapes your lips as you bring your hands to cup his face, bringing him to look at you. his eyes already filled with desire. "i think I'm ready" you state
you watch his face contort in confusion, instead of elaborating further you press his lips against yours. His breath hitches into the kiss, a deep sigh escaping both of you.
you back him up, towards your bed. When the back of his legs hit the furniture, he falls down onto it. The kiss yet to be broken. You climb on top of him. You're not quite sure where this confidence is coming from, but you like it. It's perfect to have, especially for tonight. Your thighs straddle his sides, you break the kiss, your lips leaving trails over his jaw and neck. His hands grip your waist, loving whatever has gotten into you. He didn't know yet that it was going to be him.
You grind yourself onto him, moaning softly. He lets out a few low groans himself. "i want you inside of me.." you whisper moaned by his ear, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine. Once he registered your words, his grip on your hips got tighter. you continued to kiss his jaw, about to make your way to his lips when he stops you. "wait-what?" he speaks. You lift your head, looking at him.
you bite your lip. "ive been thinking..and i, i want you to fuck me. Like for real this time" you say. "im ready"
Matt's face softens. he lets out a soft sigh. "You think you're ready or are you actually ready?" he asks, with genuine concern
You nod "i am ready. i swear... i want you. i...i trust you" you say softly, you mean every word. He lets out another soft sigh. "i don't wanna force you to do anything, you don't have to do this..we can keep doin what we always do" he says. He's deep-down terrified right now, he doesn't want to say or do the wrong thing, he doesn't want to scare you or make you regret it. You two always just stuck to oral. he knew you were inexperienced, and you were pretty open about being a virgin and wanting to trust someone enough. He's never pressured you, he wants you to be as comfortable as possible, no matter what.
"matt i promise, i want to" you cup his face. your eyes glued to his. he was finally convinced. licking his lips he speaks, "well in that case.." he sits up, flipping you over so now he's hovered over you.
he looks down at you, the way your eyes glisten, the way your chest rises and falls. By the look on your face, he can tell how ready you were, and that only egged him on.
His head dropped down to your exposed neck, trailing hot wet kisses down to your collarbone, then to the top of your chest. You let out soft moans at the way his mouth worships your body, the way his kisses are gentle yet hungry. He kisses down to the middle of your stomach. When he stops, he looks up at you. "take this off for me, doll" his voice hoarse. He tugs at the bottom of your tank top, you bite your lip as you look down at him.
You arch your back to assist him in removing the tiny top. He lifts it up, revealing your breasts, perky and perfect.. for him. The sight made him moan "so beautiful" he doesn't hesitate to bring his head back up to latch onto the flesh. A sharp moan escapes your mouth. His tongue circling around your hard nipple. he trails a couple kisses in between your breasts licking along your skin. It doesn't take long for him to give your other breast some attention as well. He trailed his mouth down to your lower stomach, stopping at the top of your pajama shorts. he looks up at you, a grin growing on his face. "this is about you doll, all you" his voice low in a mumble. His fingers hook your bottoms. bringing them down slowly, your white lace panties revealed to him. You squirm slightly, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip as he works.
Once your shorts were brought down to your ankles you kick them off. Matt places kisses up your thighs, his hands spreading your legs apart. after your legs are as open as he wants them to be he stands up. "take those off." he says his head nodding to the clothing that's blocking what he considers heaven. You obey, removing them from your body. While you do that, matt pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere in the room. He's now shirtless in front of you. "get yourself nice and wet for me, doll" he says, his hands coming down to unbuckle and tug his pants along with his underwear down.
You take your fingers into your mouth, getting your index and middle finger wet, bringing them down to your already dripping core.. wetting the flesh more. You run your fingers along your folds, moaning at how his cock springs out when his pants fall down to his ankles.
He strokes himself, the precum visible on his pink aroused tip. he makes his way back to you. "im gonna stretch you out with my fingers first okay?" he says softly. You nod, your eyes on him. He's fingered you before, but this time it feels far more different.
He settles himself between your legs again. wetting his fingers with his mouth before bringing them across your slimy folds. You moan at his fingers, your hips rolling against them naturally. He eases his fingers into you, causing you to hiss slightly.
He continues to push his fingers inside you, stretching you out. You moan at the feeling. As soon as you adjusted his fingers curled and he began to finger fuck your tight cunt.
"mm fuck" you moan, your body arching up. "yea baby, y'like that?" he murmurs, his fingers keeping up his torturous pace. Your moaning becomes more louder, and struggled as you feel the pit in your stomach grow. "mm shit just imagine how you'll sound with my cock inside you"
His fingers pick up. Your orgasm crashes over you, you let out a loud strong moan as you release over his fingers. "mm..thats my girl" he hums, his fingers still pumping inside you slowly, riding out your high. Once his fingers leave your core he brings them to his mouth, soaking up your juices and licking his fingers clean. He brings his head back down to your center, his tongue comes out to taste you. Dragging in between your folds, sucking up the rest of your juices and wetness. After he licks you clean he leaves a kiss to your pretty pussy.
He comes up, hovering over you once again. "you ready doll?" he asks, his eyes scanning for any doubt, wanting this to be just as real and perfect for you than him. When you nod, your eyes looking up at him, almost pleading for him; he knew.
"okay, its gonna hurt, but only for a second...tell me if its too much and we'll stop" he speaks. letting out a nervous sigh. "hold onto me baby"
You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He kisses you gently, yet passionately. He was waiting for this moment, and so were you.
As he kisses you, his hand grips your leg, lifting it up more, he does the same to your other one. He's settled deeply in between you now.
His hand latches onto his member, lining it with your entrance. His tip rubbing teasingly against your wet glistening folds. He places multiple kisses along your cheek and jaw before attaching your lips back together. Wanting to be able to swallow the sounds of your pain for you as he slips in.
He slowly pushes himself inside of you, his thick member barely in yet you still broke the kiss with your hiss of pain. "shh shh i know doll i know" he comforts against your lips. continuing to kiss you
"just relax.. i got you, m' right here"
he continues to push himself inside you, your moans of pain honestly breaking his heart. But this is what you wanted, and he knew it will subside eventually.
Once he was fully in. he stayed still, wanting to give you time to adjust to him. "its okay, you okay?" he lifts his head up to look at you. His thumb coming to wipe away the tears at the corner of your beautiful eyes. "i-it just hurts..im okay though" you admit.
Matt nods understandably, "we can stop if you want" He gently caresses your face
You shake your head, "no...no i want this" you say
you suddenly feel the pain that was once invading you slip away. You had adjusted to him, to his size, to the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. "you can move.." you speak
And with that, he thrusts into you slowly. You let out a soft sigh, the pleasure slowly creeping back into you.
"you feel so good babydoll" he hums, the feeling of you clenching around him. So innocent, and so his.
"mm matt" you moan, as he thrusts his cock into you at a slow sensual pace. "it feel good, doll? my cock deep inside you...is this what you wanted?" his voice low
You nails dig into the back of his neck as you hold onto him. The pleasure, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out too good to bare.
Your moans were like music to his ears, giving him the permission and encouragement he needed to increase his movements and move into you faster. "o-oh fuck" your mouth opens wide. His hand reaches for your thigh, lifting it up more for him to fuck you deeper.
He continously hits a certain spot inside you that has you squirming underneath him. "mm just like that doll, your s'good" he moans
"tell me how it feels baby...how does my cock feel inside you"
"fuck matt, it feels s'good.." you moan. you pull his face closer, nipping on his shoulder to silence yourself. "mm fuck dont do that baby," his hand cups the side of your face "i wanna hear you..hear how good im making you feel" he looks you in your eye.
His pace quickens, wanting to bring you to the edge. He can feel it, with the way you clench around him, the squelching sounds being the tell of how wet and close you are.
"i want you to cum doll, cum on my cock please" he pleads
your eyes squeeze closed as you feel a pit in your stomach, you've felt them before.. but this one feels stronger. his cock so deep inside you making you feel things that were far more foreign to you before.
"no no no, open your eyes f'me doll. let me see you" he groans. you open your eyes, meeting his lusty half lidded bedroom eyes. "look at me while you cum on my cock"
He continued to thrust into you deeply, your legs trembling from the sensations. His hands let go of your sides, coming to find yours from around his neck. He intertwined your fingers, holding both your hands. He brought them to both sides of you. Holding them tightly, not wanting to let go. Pinning your hands down he smashes his lips against yours. His hips moving at rapid speed, slamming into you.
You squeeze his hands, your moans muffled and uncontrolled as he swallows them.
You break the kiss moaning loudly, your breath shaking and uncontrolled "ah.. ah fuck im cumming!" you announce. that only made matt let out a gutteral groan and fuck into you faster.
"shh.. yeah thats it baby..come on doll" He encourages, kissing your neck, leaving bites and marks. You moan loudly, your body shuddering as you cum.
Matt immediately takes you into a kiss, swallowing up your beautiful sounds. He was right behind you, one single thrust and he stilled inside you. The feeling of his thick warm load shooting inside you. You could barely keep your eyes open. Trembling from your release, and still feeling matt fuck his cum into you. Riding out both of your highs.
His face buried into your neck, his own body shuddering against you. "you did so good doll...my good girl" He places wet kisses to your flesh.
He waits a moment for you to calm down, before slipping out of you. You gasp at his action. your body jolting up. Matt winces for you, "i know, m'sorry" he apologizes knowing how sensitive you must be
He collapses next to you. you turn on your side facing him, your head resting on your hands. He leans over, placing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder. "you okay?" He asks. His voice filled with genuine concern.
You nod "yeah, I'm okay..im happy" you answer, the corners of your mouth curing slightly
"good." he says, relief taking over him. "was it..how you imagined?" he asks, needing to know if there's a chance of regret.
"Better." you smile.
He returns a smile back, his hands trailing the curves of your side. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up"
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ᥫ᭡ Authors Note
this is so long lmfaoa
obsessed with matt as a bad boy
1K notes · View notes
noemilivv · 10 months ago
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What the…
HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …
PARTNERS !! (and before that!)
Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute
Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread
Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!
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Charlie Morningstar
Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…
Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.
Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc
Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.
She believes that it has its perks, which it does.
Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.
But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …
Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!
You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!
Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.
Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.
You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.
And yes, you do feel the same.
Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.
GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!
GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.
At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.
But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)
GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!
On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things
But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha
At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol
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Vaggie
When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?
Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.
Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.
The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her
Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.
So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.
When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!
Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!
GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)
You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha
At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.
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Angel Dust
Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.
But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?
Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.
Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…
One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!
And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…
Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?
And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.
“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”
And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.
The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.
“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”
The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!
Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.
BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!
And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.
Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.
And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.
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Alastor
When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.
He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.
Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.
He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.
Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!
So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.
BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.
But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.
If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.
But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.
By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.
BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.
And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.
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Sir Pentious
Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.
But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.
You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.
This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.
Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.
“Pen.”
“I like you too.”
“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”
Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…
Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!
BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!
So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?
BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!
BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!
Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!
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Husker
Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.
Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?
You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.
It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”
And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.
So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”
And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”
From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!
BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.
BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.
He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.
‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.
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Niffty
Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.
Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.
So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.
GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.
She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.
Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.
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Lucifer Morningstar
Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.
You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.
Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.
Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.
BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.
BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.
BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.
If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.
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Adam
Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…
Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).
During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…
Hey hot babe,
wanna do more than just fuck? (date)
And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.
BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.
I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!
At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)
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Lute
Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.
And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.
Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.
But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.
And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.
GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)
Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!
— END.
Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)
3K notes · View notes
veltana · 2 months ago
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Breaking point
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✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~2,5k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).
✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.
✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚
Masterlist | AO3
"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.
Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.
Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.
Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.
"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.
Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"
Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."
Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"
The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.
"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.
"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."
Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"
With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.
The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."
His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.
"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.
The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.
"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.
The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.
"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.
"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.
"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.
If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.
Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.
"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.
"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.
For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.
"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.
"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"
The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.
"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."
"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"
With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.
As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.
"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.
A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.
He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.
Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.
"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.
Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.
He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.
When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.
In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.
"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.
The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.
Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.
"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."
There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."
He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"
Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.
With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."
With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.
Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.
Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year ago
Text
Cállate
Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Summary: Miguel thinks you talk too much.
S m u t. P in v, dirty talk, Miguel being mean? Cream pie, cum eating. Jfc.
Minors DNI. I'm warning you 😤
It's not that he hated you.
Miguel O'Hara could never hate you. You just annoyed him to no end. Pushed his buttons. Teased him.
"Miguelitoooo," you'd sing in that stupid tone, "you need to relax. You brood too much. Such a broody man, hmm?"
Miguelito.
The goddamn nickname drove him up the wall, though at this point he wasn't too sure if it was irritation, or the lust that's been grabbing hold of his cock lately. What was it about you that had his head spinning with a feral need to sink his teeth into your flesh? To shove his cock so deep inside you you'd be rendered speechless for once?
Fuck, you were annoying. While he was a man of few words, you spoke as if on a fucking time limit, spewing nonsense every chance you could get. Everytime he looked at you it was a rush of emotion, and he didn't know whether to punch something or grab you by the shoulders and shut you the fuck up himself with his lips.
He decided on the latter.
You sauntered into his private headquarters in that tight little suit of yours, already running your mouth a mile a minute about...something. It might have been important, but Miguel wasn't listening, too busy watching the way your hips swayed.
"Miguelito, are you listening? Or are you too busy brooding as usual?" You were looking down at your watch, pressing on a few buttons distractedly, "Honestly, I don't know how you became the brains of this operation."
You stood in front of him, such a little thing compared to his massive size, your eyes still on your watch. "Have you been ignoring Lyla?"
"I put her on do not disturb."
You snorted, finally bringing your eyes to his intimidating ones, "Oh, so I guess I'm disturbing you too, huh?"
"Always." With a grunt, Miguel snatched you by the waist, losing his patience completely. You gasped, surprised by his actions, but you smiled knowingly, looking up at him with doe-like eyes. Finally.
"A first date would be nice, Miguelito-"
"Shut up." He growled, baring his glistening fangs. "Cállate, por Dios."
He wasted no time, immediately surging forward to capture your lips, silencing you efficiently. It was a hungry kiss, sloppy, more tongues than anything else. He pulled moan after moan from you, stripping you both down in a matter of seconds before nipping at the delicate skin of your neck and shoulders.
Miguel had you up against the wall, his brute strength holding you up with ease. You quickly wrapped your legs around his hips, eyes rolling as he slid his large cock over your slippery folds.
"M-miguel," his name fell from your mouth beautifully as you held on to his broad shoulders for dear life, "Miguel, p-please."
"When are you gonna learn to shut up, hm?" He groaned, his arousal igniting from the obscene sounds of your slick cunt coating the underside of his length, "when are you gonna learn to keep your mouth shut for five seconds?" You were cock drunk already, mouth hanging open and tears threatening to fall from your pretty eyes.
"I-"
"Cállate, hermosa, just shut up and take this cock," Miguel muttered over your lips, lining his cock up carefully before nudging your pussy open with the fat head of his dick. You choked, tears finally bursting from your eyes, dampening both your faces as he held you close. Your cunt clamped down on his cock with every inch he pushed in, causing you to cry out.
"Shh, I got you, just let me in," he cooed in the most gentle way he'd ever been with you, "I know you can take this cock, mhm, así, just like that, open that pretty pussy up for me."
You moaned whorishly, your head falling back against the wall with a thump as Miguel began a merciless pace, immediately reaching the place where you needed him the most.
"Ohhh fuck, Miguel," you cried, your juices coating his thighs with every stroke of his cock as he pounded and pounded and pounded into you, "you're so d-deep." More juices leaked from your cunt, giving Miguel easier access into your slick channel.
"Quiet hermosa," he heaved, holding you tight against his merciless hips while clamping a large hand over your mouth, "don't want the others to know how good I'm fucking you, ehh?" The only sounds heard in the room were your muffled cries, his grunts, and his balls slapping against your ass as his cock slipped in and out of you.
You wanted to say something, anything really, to shove him off his high horse, but you couldn't, too far up in cloud nine to do anything but drool all over his palm and let his thick cock kiss your cervix repeatedly, bruisingly, deliciously.
"Asi, hermosa," Miguel sticks out his tongue, lapping at the salty tears streaking your cheeks, "calladita se ve más bonita, hm?" He knew you were close, he felt it in the way your pussy tightened on his cock. He kept ramming his hips into you, grunting with every stroke.
"So fucking tight," he groaned, dropping his head on your shoulder, "I imagined this so many times, stuffing you with my cock, but fuck, who knew it'd be like this?"
"M-miguel, please," you whined, ripping his hand away from your mouth, "p-please."
He pierced his fangs into your neck, and that was when the dam broke. You gushed all over his cock, eyes rolling and mouth open as you silently came. Your pussy spasmed, fluttering over Miguel's cock as he lapped up the blood beading from the tiny wound he inflicted.
"That's it," he cooed, holding you tightly in his arms as you shuddered, "that's my girl." His strokes were sloppy now, too lost in your delicious wet heat to be as precise. After a few more thrusts, he buried his head in your neck again, releasing a growl from the very pits of his stomach, deep and aggressive, as he pumped his seed inside you.
Miguel held you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath. You were like a ragdoll over him, and he chuckled, nuzzling you with his nose. He released you, letting his cock slip out. His cum ran down your leg, white and hot as he gently set you on the ground. He hummed, taking two of his large fingers and scooping up some of the mess he made between your legs before smearing it over your lips.
"Open." He commanded, and you obediently did as told, opening your mouth and curling your tongue around his digits, savoring the taste of your combined juices with lidded eyes. You moaned at the tangy taste, your hands flying to skim down the length of his chiseled abdomen.
Miguel watched you, caging you in with one arm against the wall, mesmerized at how your mouth worked over his fingers.
You looked absolutely fucked out, skin flushed, hair a mess, but most of all, quiet.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago
Text
Title: Idolification.
Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”
“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”
Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.
Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”
At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”
She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”
“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”
“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”
Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”
“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”
Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”
Fuck.
If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.
“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”
You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”
“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”
“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”
Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”
His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  
“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”
~
“Room for one more?”
She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.
The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.
“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”
“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”
Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”
“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”
Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”
You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”
This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
~
It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.
It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.
It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.
“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”
A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”
“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”
“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”
“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”
“That’s not—”
“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”
For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.
He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.
When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.
~
“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”
You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”
“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”
Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”
This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”
You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”
She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”
You swallowed dryly. “Never.”
“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”
“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”
“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”
She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”
And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.
Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.
The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.
“Yuuji?”
~
The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.
It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.
He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”
He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”
A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.
And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.
“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”
You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”
You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”
How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—
No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”
“Yuuji, this isn’t—”
He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck��” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”
A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.
With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.
“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”
He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.
You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—
 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”
A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”
You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.
He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.
It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.
“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”
His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”
His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.
Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.
A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.
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luveline · 6 days ago
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would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?
—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k
“Aaron?” 
He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone. 
“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?” 
He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”
“You don’t want me to explain why?” 
“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.” 
You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.” 
“You’re interested?” 
“In working there?” you ask. 
“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.” 
“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.” 
He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since. 
He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse. 
“Are you ready?” he asks them. 
“For what, the round table?” Emily asks. 
“Y/N’s coming into the office.” 
Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy. 
“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.” 
“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?” 
“It’s up there,” Spencer says. 
“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt. 
He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks. 
You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.” 
“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.” 
“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake. 
“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in. 
“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.” 
Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”
“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”
“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time. 
“Exactly.” 
“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant. 
When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.” 
“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing. 
No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride. 
“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.” 
You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.” 
“If she didn’t work so hard–”
“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.” 
“We know,” Emily says. 
“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.” 
You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say. 
He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise. 
“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor. 
He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?” 
Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers. 
He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.
“Sir?” Penelope says back. 
He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange. 
“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.” 
Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk. 
Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods. 
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely. 
“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?” 
“Strong genetics?” he suggests. 
“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says. 
He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us. 
“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!” 
“I’m almost twenty three.” 
“So young,” Penelope fawns. 
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invinciblerodent · 15 days ago
Text
hang on, hold on, now I'm really in my feelings about Harding for a moment
like ever since I heard that conversation where Lucanis (very insightful tbh, short king to short queen I guess) points out that having been a tiny dwarf girl raised among the big, intimidating, human Fereldan farmers probably impacted Lace's personality more than she realizes (beyond making her adaptable and capable, it also seems to have made her... kind of malleable, unwilling to rock the boat, people-pleasing, more limestone than granite), I already haven't been able to quite shake that thought. But her being so startlingly low on that recent "who's your favorite character" poll I reblogged... it really drove that point all the way home.
a core characteristic of Lace Harding seems to be that she always tries, and tries, and tries, to be liked- she tries to always be kind, and compassionate, and caring, and sweet to everyone, and it works! everyone likes her! people like being around her, both inside and out the narrative!
... but she's very few people's favorite.
it's a really interesting take on pleasantness being a shield (honestly kind of a very accurate, but subtle expansion on her character in Inquisition, when she was just... Nice and Capable Little Lace Harding and Little Else) and even her story, while it's about her own repressed feelings (literally fighting a physical manifestation of her rage, and sorrow, and pain, is. wow you don't get more clear a metaphor than that, the metaphor is literally punching you in the face on that one), it's still not about herself- or not only herself, but all of the dwarven people, all that was taken from them, all their rage, and sorrow, and pain, condensed into her tiny little body....
there is definitely more to expand on this, and I'll probably get more into it in subsequent playthroughs, but for now, I'm finding it really interesting how Lace Harding is almost an afterthought in her own life, purposefully made a footnote in her own narrative, and that in itself serves to color it in further. she lives in the silences between the titan's heartbeats.
truly the fucking textbook interpretation of an eldest daughter of all the dwarven people, and I'm fucking emotional as fuck about her right now
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moonstruckme · 3 months ago
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for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶
Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12
cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words
When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold. 
“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.” 
“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?” 
Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?” 
“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.” 
“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.” 
Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour. 
“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.” 
“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.
“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus. 
Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of. 
“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.” 
Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his. 
“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.” 
Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent. 
You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!” 
“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.” 
You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side. 
Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness. 
Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black. 
You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink. 
The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch. 
By the end, he has only one thing to say. 
“I think we need to up the ante.” 
You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”
“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.” 
Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful. 
“What did you have in mind?” you ask.
“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.” 
You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?” 
“And backwards, if you’re up for it.” 
“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.” 
Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?” 
“We don’t need this to medal.” 
“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.” 
Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.” 
Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.” 
“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.” 
Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath. 
You cram yourself between them. 
It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful. 
“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.” 
You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise. 
He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway. 
Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore. 
He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep. 
Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation. 
You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say. 
“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame. 
“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.
“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes. 
This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you. 
“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.” 
You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.” 
Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.” 
You nod again. “He was.” 
Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?
You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.” 
It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?” 
“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.” 
A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.” 
“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.” 
You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it. 
“Let me get your coat,” he offers.
You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore. 
You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?” 
He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie. 
You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly. 
“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.” 
Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.” 
You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.” 
Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?” 
You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness. 
He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets. 
You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?” 
Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?” 
Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently. 
Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?” 
You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous. 
“I didn’t…” 
“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.” 
“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth. 
“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.” 
“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.” 
“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea. 
Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year ago
Text
A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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