#i'm not even angry at him anymore it's just. he makes it hurt so bad.

[pedroscurls]

you broke me first (one-shot)

summary: logan comes running to you after yet another disappointment with jean, but he's hurt you for the last time and you can't do this dance with him any longer. pairing: xmen series!logan x fem!reader content warnings: angst, unspoken feelings (logan has his reasons), logan pining for jean, broken friendship, no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: ok, so forgive me in advanced lol, this is my first time writing xmen series!logan (and idk if i'm the only one, but i do not like the jean x logan ship - i didn't feel any chemistry between them in the movies). anyway, enjoy this! this song came to mind and immediately i thought of this version of logan and it seemed fitting. song: you broke me first by tate mcrae

“She doesn’t love you, Logan,” you tell him once again after he comes straight to your room after Jean had told him that she would never leave Scott for him. You could never understand the feelings he had for Jean, his relationship with her purely physical. 

And each time he tried to convince Jean that being with him would make her happier than she was with Scott, he was always left disappointed. 

And each time, he always came running to you. The one person who had always been there for him since he had come to the mansion all those years ago. 

“You don’t know that,” Logan says, brows furrowed and his usual scowl written on his features. 

“Why do you keep going back to her?” you ask quietly, looking down at your hands. “She hurts you every time, Logan.”

“She just doesn’t know what she wants.”

“Logan,” you sigh. “We both know that’s not true.”

“If she knew what she wanted, why do we keep sleeping with each other, then? Hm?” 

You feel your heart break at his words. The more time you spent with Logan, the more you realized just how deeply you felt for him. He had become your best friend, and had made you feel welcome in a house full of mutants. Charles had hired you as a teacher despite not having any powers and while you loved your job, you always felt like you didn’t belong and you yearned to be one of them, to be part of a group like this. You couldn’t even be angry though, this was how every mutant had felt in this world. An outsider. 

But Logan… Logan had always made you feel like you belonged. He would talk to you about his problems and you would talk to him about yours. He’d be there to hold you whenever you had a bad day, to brush your hair away from your face when you were on the brink of tears. He’d always come to you whenever he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares would take hold of him because he had admitted one night that you make him feel safe, calm, peaceful. 

And he’d always come to you whenever Jean didn’t want him anymore. 

And you’d always be there to welcome him with open arms. 

“I don’t know, Logan,” you finally answer. “She won’t ever leave Scott… You and I both know this.”

“She just needs to realize–”

“Stop,” you interrupt him. “Please, Logan.”

Logan looks down at you. “What?”

“I’ve always been right here,” you say quietly, teary eyes staring up at him. 

“I know,” he sighs. “And I’m lucky–”

“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you interrupt. “You can’t be that dense, Logan.”

He tightens his jaw and you look down at his hands to see them curled into fists. All it takes is one clench and his claws would come out. “We can’t. That can’t ever happen between us.” 

“Why?” you ask. “What’s so wrong with me that you can’t see that I would choose you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he sighs. “We just–” Logan shakes his head. “No, bub.”

“What’s so special about Jean, hm?” you ask, voice raising as tears now slowly trickle down your cheeks. “What does she have that I don’t? Is it her powers? Is it because she’s a mutant?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t care if you’re not a mutant.”

“Then what?!” Your lower lip quivers and you take a step back when you yell at him. You can feel your entire body shaking, emotions and feelings that you had kept bottled in now coming to the surface. “Then what, Logan?” you repeat. 

“I can’t love you.”

“You can’t, or you don’t?” 

“Bub,” Logan sighs, hand slowly reaching out for you but you shake your head and step away from him. 

“Whenever you needed someone, I have always been there. When you needed to leave for whatever reason, I was always here waiting for you to come back. It’s always been me, Logan. Me.” 

“I know…” Logan’s eyes soften at the sight of you and he wants so badly to just pull you into his arms. He would never admit to you the feelings he has for you, would never tell you how much he wishes that things were different. Part of him thinks he loves Jean, knows that she can handle her own if anything were to happen, but you… If you were to ever be in danger because of him, he would never forgive himself. So, he keeps you at a friendly distance, never displaying to the rest of the team just how much you mean to him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, voice shaky. “I can’t be the person you keep coming to whenever Jean doesn’t want anything to do with you. You deserve someone who’s going to choose you, Logan,” you stare up at him, eyes glistening with tears. “You deserve someone who’s not going to hurt you.”

Logan’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”

“I fucking love you, Logan!” you bite your lower lip, your own hands clenching into fists in hopes that the action would ground you, would alleviate some of the frustration that you’re feeling. “I fucking love you and I can no longer just sit around and act like I don’t.” 

“Sweetheart,” his voice cracks and suddenly, he realizes that losing you hurts far more than the disappointment he continues to feel with Jean. “Don’t–”

“You break my heart every fucking time you come to me about Jean,” you admit. “And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Logan whispers. 

“I’m going to tell Charles that I’ve got a family emergency and that I will need to leave immediately,” you tell Logan, moving around him to gather your duffle bag and setting it on your bed. “I’m sure he’ll know the real reason why I’m leaving, but–”

Logan reaches out for you, his hand a gentle touch against your wrist. “Stop, please…”

You pull your hand away from his grasp and look up at him, “Be honest with me and tell me that you don’t see anything here… That you don’t feel something for me.”

Logan stares into your eyes and he tightens his jaw, hand reaching up to gently brush a tear away from your cheek. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I need you to understand that I can’t, baby.” 

You nod and step away from him. “I won’t ever be enough, will I?” 

“That’s not true–”

“Just get out, Logan. Please.” 

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re breaking me–”

“You broke me first, Logan,” you interject and turn back around to toss your clothes carelessly into your bag, tears strolling down your cheeks. You can still feel Logan’s presence, can hear him huffing lowly under his breath. 

When your clothes are in your bag, you toss it over your shoulder and turn around to see him standing near your door. You walk over to him and reach for the door handle, gripping it tightly as you look up at him once more. For one last time. 

“Don’t go, please,” he whispers. 

“I wish you nothing but the best, Logan,” you reply. “And I hope one day you realize that you deserve so much more than what Jean is giving you. You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to be chosen.”

“Baby–”

Slowly, you turn the handle and open the door, tearing your gaze away from him. “Goodbye, Logan.”

[elytrafemme]

i'm starting to wonder if therapy is going to be productive because no matter what happens i'm probably going to experience this every night of my fucking life

[spaceratprodigy]

the tiny metronome in my brain aggressively ticking back and forth between wanting to make cap and max fluff or cap and max angst

[ghouljams]

Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...

The first time you cry in front of the 141:

The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.

He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.

Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.

"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.

"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.

"I know," he grumps.

"You're mad at me," you sniffle.

"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."

-

The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.

You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.

"Hen, are ya-"

"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."

"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."

"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.

"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."

"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.

"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."

You do neither of those things.

-

The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.

"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."

God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.

You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.

He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."

The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.

-

The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?

Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?

It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.

How could he do this to you?

"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."

"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."

"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.

"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.

"You don't know-"

"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"

"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."

You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.

He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.

[thebestsetter]

"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

[anantaru]

— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood. 

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[aliidarling]

using you

RICK GRIMES X fem!reader

nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad

warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig

btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum

i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...

nsfw content below!!

Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.

The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.

Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.

“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.

“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.

Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.

“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.” 

You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.

He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.

A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.

Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?

As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.

He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?

“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.

“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.

And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.

But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.

A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.

“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.

Ouch.

“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.

Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.

A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?

As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.

Never mind, jeez.

“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.

You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.

His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.

“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.

“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.

You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.

“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.

You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?

He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?

“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.

“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.

“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.

The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.

“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.

You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.

Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.

“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.

“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!

“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.

You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.

“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.

You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?

“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.

Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?

He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.

“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.

“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.

He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.

His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.

“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.

“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.

“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.

He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.

Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.

A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.

He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.

“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.

���You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.

Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.

“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!

“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.

After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.

“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.

“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.

“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.

He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.

You can’t help but smile as you walk away.

Next time, huh?

You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they get jealous . . . ☆

warnings - mainly just fluff, maybe a hint of yandere if you squint, insecurities, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n or reader, and jealousy from our fave spiders.

word count - 2.4k

main masterlist <33 | proof read?: yes.

based off of this request: jealous hc !!

. . . ☆ miles morals!e-1610

He'll try and ignore the nasty feeling of jealousy but it's tough when all he can think about is how joyous you look spending time with another guy that isn't him.

It slowly eats away at him the more time you two spend away from each other, and sooner or later you'd notice the change in his demeanor. He was quieter, his greetings weren't the same, and his energy constantly seemed low. Every time you said something he'd reply with a simple hum of acknowledgment and if you were trying to cheer him up with a corny joke the only thing you'd receive was a faulty breath from his lips and a lopsided grin.

His hugs weren't bone-crushing anymore, his texts were in one-words, and even when you two shared a class he acted different. Instead of the usual passing notes and quiet laughter at inside jokes, he simply turned his body towards the window and stayed quiet. He didn't spare a single glance in your direction until the bell rang. Even then he didn't look at you, blankly staring at the floor while gathering his things and blearily walking out with slouched shoulders.

So many confusing thoughts and hurt feelings from made-up scenarios circled around his brain. He wanted to talk to you so badly and just make sure everything was okay. He just didn't know how to approach it, so it continued to eat at him until you confronted him about it.

You saw him walking his usual route towards his place and couldn't help but chase him down. You constantly pestered him and asked him questions to get to the root of the problem but all he did was respond with simple phrases like "I'm fine.", "M' just tired.", and "Nah, I'm good."

Your dedication and unwillingness to let him go home angry finally paid off when he snapped. His words jumbling and his hands flailing in the air as he unleashed every thought and feeling that led to that moment.

Once he finished his rant, you two stood across from each other in complete silence. His chest lifted up and down as if he was exhausted. No words could come to your mouth, but your legs moved without hesitation and before you knew it your arms engulfed him in a tight hug. You felt bad for not being able to express how you felt in words but all miles needed was reassurance and your arms being wrapped around him was more than enough.

. . . ☆ miles morales! e-42

Miles is very straight-forward and blunt. He speaks his mind, which can be a blessing and a curse. With his over-protective nature and blank-like expressions he's more intimidating than most, especially when confronting people he thinks are getting too chummy with you. If a guy is checking you out, miles will speak up before you even notice. "ay, you got a starin' problem or sum?" in situations like these he tends to get touchier with you. Either resting a hand on your hip or hanging his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

Miles has a certain phrase that he says whenever you scold him for being so confrontational. "They gon have to get through me to get to you." and he tends to stand on that word.

Miles isn't shy of confronting people, or even using violence when it comes down to it. He prefers to handle situations like these with as least violence as possible. He doesn't want to subject you to that kind of thing, if anything he wants to keep you away from it. It's why he's so protective of you and also why you don't know he's the prowler.

You were walking home late at night all by yourself, and as much as you wanted miles to be there with you, he couldn't. You texted him letting him know you'd be staying late after school because of a project. He mentioned how he wouldn't want you walking home by yourself, especially so late at night. So, he decided he'd drive you back home on his motorcycle.

But when the time came for him to pick you up, you were left stranded. He never returned your countless calls or text messages which led into you walking back home all by yourself. Uncomfortable would be an understatement to describe the way you felt as you whisked your way passed sketchy groups of people with your head down. You took shortcuts and turned into ally's to get away from any potential threats not knowing you'd walk right into the hands of one.

A tall lanky man with sunken eyes somehow cornered you in-between the brick wall of a random apartment complex. You were terrified. Your legs grew weak, and your nose started to sting in warning of the incoming tears. All you could do was push your body as far as you possibly could into the wall behind you. Desperately hoping it would engulf you and take you as far away as possible from the situation.

You shut your eyes, bracing for whatever torturous impact to come. Fortunately, it never did. Instead you felt a swift gust of wind past you and the sound of a hard thud paired with a low groan. You cracked your eyes open only to see the mask of the most-feared vigilante in New York. He walked closer and closer until he was finally hovering over you, his mask nearly touching your nose.

As you stood frozen in shock, a clawed hand rested next to your face. "What I say? They gotta get through me to get to you."

. . . ☆ gwen stacy

Gwen is a liar. You can ask her if she's jealous and she'd respond with a scoff and wobbly smirk, scratching the side of her head before replying with something along the lines of "Jealous? No, way." when in reality she's seething. She wants to be completely secure and unbothered like Hobie, but there's always this nagging voice in the back of her head that fills her with annoyance and bitterness.

When someone shows any type of romantic interest in you she'll get tense and her cool facade will be replaced by her visible discomfort. She knows you love her and is continuously reminded when you shut down any confessions, but that painful uneasiness still comes no matter what.

Depending on what mood she's in that day she'll either tense up and shy away from the situation or desperately try to avert your attention back to her.

When one of your classmates walks up to you complimenting you and eyeing you up and down, Gwen's hand that was loosely holding yours fell to her side before returning to her jacket pocket. Her shoulders squared to her ears as she quietly sighed and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She avoided eye-contact with you and the person, choosing to look around the hallway as if she wasn't eaves-dropping into the conversation. (she was)

Once the person leaves she'll grab your hand and start pulling you towards the exit "that was weird, right?" she'd murmured half-jokingly while nudging her shoulder with yours.

The next time you and that person interact is when Gwen is over your place. Once you excuse yourself from the conversation and take the call from your classmate, Gwen once again gets antsy. But she's much more combative this time around. She'll snatch her drumsticks up and start tapping on any and all surfaces she can reach. Calling out your name to get your attention so you can focus on her instead of your classmate.

All in all it really depends on what mood you catch her in. She can either be awkward and tense or combative and loud. At the end of the day all she wants is your attention.

. . . ☆ pavitr prabhakar

Pavitr is quite secure in himself and in the relationship, but he does get jealous on occasion. Never from a situation of you simply getting hit on or someone complimenting you, more so from his own insecurities and made-up scenarios that he plays in his head.

He enjoys the time you two have together fully enveloped in each others presence. So, when that time gets interrupted by someone he gets sulky. Time is already very limited for pavitr. With school and his spider duties on top of it he doesn't have as much time to spend with you as he wants. So once he gets you alone he doesn't want a single distraction to interrupt your private time.

A part of him feels guilty that he isn't able to spend much time with you. He has a small insecurity that pops up every now and then, telling himself that you deserve someone who's more attentive and available to your needs. He wants to be that man for you but his responsibilities prevent him from doing so.

You've already mentioned to Pav that you understand he's a busy man with a hefty schedule, so any time you two spend together is valued and cherished. It makes him happy that you're so forgiving and transparent but that doesn't stop the self-shaming thoughts of how bad of a boyfriend he sometimes thinks he is.

Pavitr has a habit of getting you gifts. When his guilty conscience is eating at him for missing out on a romantic date or simple hangout, he tends to buy you more gifts than usual. A single rose will turn into a bouquet, A cute hand-beaded bracelet will turn into a full jewelry set, a bedazzled headband will turn into multiple hair scrunchies and a full pack of hair care.

Once you've noticed this habit you were quick to shut it down, you didn't want him spending money every time he felt bad for having to bail and do his spider duties.

All he needs is to be pampered and reminded that what you want is him, and only him. Tell him how much you adore him and smuggle him in affection. Whether it be words of affirmation, quality time, or physical touch, Pavitr will immediately be putty in your hands. Just being engulfed by you and having you dote on him will immediately wash away any and all bad thoughts.

. . . ☆ hobie brown

Hobie doesn't really get jealous. He's extremely secure in himself and the relationship. If you're the type of person who likes to flirt for fun or is just naturally flirty, he wouldn't even bat an eye at you coyly chatting with another person.

Hobie knows you only have eyes for him so he never gets defensive or jealous by your coquettish attitude with others. You know where home is and at the end of the day you always return. But that's only with flirting. If you tend to get touchy or make-out with other people then he would get annoyed and slightly agitated. Especially if you'd established there was something between you two.

He wouldn't particularly mind other people flirting with you unless someone was genuinely being creepy and overbearing. He wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for any reason in any situation. So, seeing you nervously fiddle with your hands or curl into yourself when certain advances were made would enrage him to an extent. These are the times Hobie will take on a more defensive/protective role.

He doesn't get into many brawls (mainly because he doesn't have to) He's quite intimidating so when he tells someone to back down they're gonna back down, quickly and efficiently. If anyone had the balls to step to Hobie in a threatening way they'd def be met with more than they could handle.

But in most situations Hobie usually just plays along with the flirting. He knows you're a good piece of eye-candy so it's not surprising to him whenever you get hit on. His chest also can't help but swell in pride when you mention that you have a partner, who just so happens to be Hobie.

Imagine you're both at the pub. Sitting at the bar, and leaning into each other with lovesick smiles. The sweet exchange of teasing words was interrupted by the gruff voice of the bartender setting down an alcoholic drink you weren't really familiar with. "Compliments from the gentleman over there." he murmured, tilting his head towards a man who sat across the bar. Before you could even fully react Hobie grabbed the glass and downed it within seconds. "Cheers, mate." he responded with a smile while lifting the glass in the air.

You just grow to love and laugh at his antics.

. . . ☆ miguel o'hara

You'll know he's jealous. Miguel is very obvious when he's bothered by something, even when he tries to hide it.

His movements are more stiff than usual and if you're close enough you can hear him lowly spitting profanities in his native tongue. Not to mention when he gets jealous to the point he's genuinely angry his claws will shoot out. There are multiple claw marks on couches and different desks at the headquarters that have yet to be fixed.

He angry pouts but he doesn't really know it. Whenever you're having a conversation with someone and it's prolonged for a little too long or the person you're speaking to is showing some type of interest in you, Miguel will just tower over you from behind with crossed arms and an annoyed look. as he stares the person down.

You're the most important thing in Miguel's life. He's already lost so much in different lifetimes and a part of him feels like he should live his life alone, suffering without a family or a lover simply because he feels like he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve you.

There will be times where he tries to push you away, a part of him feels like if he pushes you away enough and tries to emotionally disconnect from the relationship you leaving him won't hurt as much. You have to be patient and reassure him that you're not going anywhere. The only reason he does stuff like that is because a small part of him genuinely believes you'll leave him at some point.

He tends to be overbearing when he gets jealous. Pushing you behind him when someone starts to be a bit suggestive, staring down anyone who he thinks is getting too comfortable with you, and butting in convos to speak for you when he's close to going over the edge.

Miguel can be overprotective and extremely overbearing at times, but it's always because he has your best interest in mind. He needs you in his life and to keep you he will deflect any and all threats that try and take you away.

A/N🪷: whenever i think of e-42 miles the killmonger music starts playing in my head lol

this was also a little rushed because i've been busy with work and im a little sleep-deprived, BUT i will come back with another fic soon <3 ty lovelies :)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Desperation

When you disappear from the Arkham Knights base, he's intent on getting you back. ~1.1k words

If the Arkham Knight knew that you'd be so against releasing fear gas over the entire eastern seaboard, he wouldn't have let you have nearly as much freedom around his base as he did. He really didn't consider that your moral compass would keep you from staying with him.

He's frustrated, as he tears through the streets of Gotham searching for you. If you wanted him to change his plans, you only needed to ask. Sure, he might have lied about the details, but the two of you could have at least talked before you decided leaving him was for the best.

He doesn't understand how you've managed to evade him for this long. He's checked every one of The Bats safehouses he knows you know about and a few you didn't. So where the hell are you?

He slams his fist into the wall of another empty safehouse. This is ridiculous. You don't get to run from him, don't get to be anywhere he doesn't know. How is he supposed to know you're safe like this? Know you're not making a bad decision? Not doing something that'll end in you hurt– kidnapped– dead?

His throat tightens as he storms out of the room, mentally running through where you could have gone to hide from him. He has his men stationed at the port, at hotels, at the subway stations, the airport, the highways out of Gotham. There's no way you've gotten out of the city.

'Unless you escaped before he noticed you were gone,' his mind supplies unhelpfully. The Arkham Knight scowls, as if that was possible. He stalks across the rooftops, mind racing. The second he gets his hands on you, he's putting a tracer on you. He should have done it sooner. Never should have let this happen. You're not supposed to be away from him. He needs you with him, needs you close.

Where did you go? Where did you go?

"Boss," a voice cuts through his helmet.

"What?" He snaps, voice sharp and angry and dangerous.

"We had a sighting of them."

He almost lets out a sigh of relief, "Location?"

You cursed rapidly under your breath as you dart through the alleys of Gotham. Stupid- stupid to get spotted by one of Jason's payrolled men. You knew you were lucky to have recognized him, but The Arkham Knight must know where you are by now.

You debate chancing the sewers, Killer Croc is supposed to be in Arkham, and if you're careful you could avoid Grundy. You don't have a plan– didn't have a plan when you left. You just needed to get out, needed air and space and time to process, to really come to terms with the fact that Jason isn't your Jason anymore.

Everything seems to be flying by in a whirlwind as you move through the shadows. Your thoughts frazzled, you don't even know what you want. Do you want him to find you? Do you want to go back with him? Do you want to keep running?

You don't really get a say in the matter when the Arkham Knight drops down a mere five feet in front of you, blocking one of your two exits out of the alleyway.

You let out a strangled noise of surprise as he storms towards you. You stumble back, eyes wide, "Jason–"

"What are you doing out here? Do you know what time it is? How dangerous this is?" He grabs your arm, grip tight to keep you in place. You can hear the desperation in his tone even through the modulator.

"I just– I needed to think–" You stumble out, eyes darting over the neon blue glow of his helmet.

"You can think inside the base, where it's safe." He tells you firmly, already dragging you along the alley.

You dig your heels in, "No, Jason. I can't go back there."

He turns back to you, voice low and almost threatening, "Why not?"

"I'm scared."

He falls quiet. You both do. He lets go of you. "Of me?"

"No! No, Jason, not of– of course not of you. I'm scared of– I'm scared that I understand. That your plan makes sense and I– I understand. At least, why you need this. Bruce failed you. I failed you." You start to reach for him, for the boy you fell in love with, the one lost underneath the armor and guns and nightmares. You stop short, it's hard sometimes, to not blame yourself for what happened to him.

He meets you halfway, the man he is now, the one who you don't quite know how to love yet, grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest. "I don't blame you."

"You should," You protest, but don't remove your hand, "I'm guilty too. A part of you must know that."

He shakes his head, squeezes your hand, "I don't care."

"You should," You repeat, angry and bitter with yourself.

"It doesn't matter, even if I did," he sighs your name and tugs off his helmet, letting it drop to the ground, "You're coming back with me."

You frown a little, something you can't quite name flicks in your eyes. In another life, he would have said he needed you, that he wants you with him, that he can't bear to be apart from you. But that's not who he is anymore, it's not what Arkham turned him into.

You don't know how to say no, not when his eyes are hard and his jaw is set. His only sign of vulnerability is the slight acceleration of his heartbeat, the way his fingers twitch against yours. All you can offer is a nod.

The lines of his face soften just enough to make your heart flutter and he leans in to press a firm kiss to your mouth.

It's still unfamiliar, the way he kisses you now, but you can't help but want to learn. It feels impossible not to, not when you know what he really means with his actions. Not when he whispers that he can't lose you, that he still loves you into your skin when you're half asleep at night.

You just start to kiss him back, just start to lean into his touch when he pulls away, letting go of you to dip down and retrieve his helmet.

He pulls it on in one practiced motion, hiding anything that was readable on his face from you, "Let's get you back."

Your face falls a little as he turns and starts walking away, but you follow him. Of course you do. Your chest aches, your head still feels muddled with what you've learned, but when he silently reaches his hand back for yours, your steps no longer feel so heavy.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

the grief hittin all over again

[cbartonscoffee]

I think I've never been more aware of just how many people only get their info of the batfam through fanfic. I finally started reading Red Robin (2009) and I can not believe how many things are blown out of proportion. Particularly about Dick and Damian.

First of all, Dick does try to put limits and he does get fed up with Damian's ways sometimes. Out of the three first interactions of them in the comic, at least in two he tells him to shut up. And one of those is when Damian starts to brag about being Robin and Tim being useless, he tells him to shut up twice.

Another thing about that moment, is that they treat it like Dick completely dismisses Tim and treats him as unimportant. He doesn't. He takes him seriously, he tells him he needs him, he tells him he views his as an equal, as someone capable. And he also tells him he's concerned about him and that he needs to start processing Bruce's death. Could that have been a little harsh? Yes, but he needed to do it without making Tim think there was room for him to be convinced about his theory because let's be honest, Tim would've taken anything less than complete refusal and tried to change his mind. And had he been wrong neither of them could have taken it.

Secondly, Dick is always left to shoulder the blame of kicking Tim out and of never reaching out. That's bull. And I need to make that clear. Tim was in a delicate point, he tells us this himself multiple times, but the decision to leave was completely made out of his own free will. Another thing he did was put space between him and the people on Gotham. We see only one time in which Dick tries to call him. Tim picks up and tells him he doesn't want to talk. This tells us that Dick respecting Tim's wish of space included almost no (or even no) contact, and Dick calling was not something Tim appreciated or encouraged.

Now. Going into the second year of the run, when he's back in Gotham, there's a few things to talk about and I'm still in the aftermath of Damian and Tim's fight.

I feel it's important to say that even if they are all family, more often than not they're doing their own thing. Like, Babs and Steph are in the Batcave while Dick and Damian are in Wayne Tower, Cass is said to potentially be in Hong Kong and we haven't even heard Jason be name-dropped except for the fact that he went on a rampage at some point.

So, Dick is immediately called away in League business. So he isn't there. Damian is behaving fairly civil besides being a brat, so no one wastes too much effort in correcting what he says. We need to think about the fact that this is a kid whose world was turned upside down multiple times in a short period of time, who has a need to be accepted, and who hasn't yet found his place. All this is to say, that if it's difficult to get him to eat breakfast there's no way they're controlling his every move and that's understandable.

So Dick is away, Damian is still trying to adapt, Alfred has his hands full and everyone else is doing something else.

The whole thing starts because Tim is being kind of cryptic about what he's doing with his hit list and Damian feels left out and goes looking for more. He finds his name in a hidden double side of the hit list marking him as a threat. He understandably feels hurt and angry, because he's a kid, and he's trying, and his predecessor who at this point doesn't even try with him anymore views him as something bad.

So in classic Damian fashion, he falls back on his upbringing and doesn't deal with the situation as one should, talking about it. Instead he cuts team line, hurting before being hurt. It could've been worse, we see in the panel that Tim doesn't have that much of a hard time getting safely to the ground. The problem is that he snaps and starts a full-blown fight he knows Damian won't back out off. (I'm pleased to add that after cutting his line Damian doesn't start anything else)

So they are fighting, Tim has the clear advantage and he knows this, we know this. And that's how Dick finds them. Having just returned from a JL mission, in the place where the Waynes were murdered, with Tim having overpowered Damian.

They go back to the cave and Damian shares his findings, and Dick understands. And Tim tells him he (Dick) knows why he (Tim) did it. Dick agrees, and tells him he should have tried to make it harder to find. Tim says he hadn't thought Damian would try or even care. Dick tells him Damian wants to be accepted.

All in all, so far the only thing this comic has proven to me is that there's a reason comics are the bomb and that fanon has gotten out of hand. I get making things out to be worse for the sake of a story, but everything surrounding these events is basically used as the foundation for Damian and Tim's relationship as well as Dick and Tim's and I don't think I've once read a fanfic where these events are portrayed correctly or even following the real motivations of the characters. This is a disservice to all of them and only serves to amplify the hate towards a character that doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of Damian hate going around. And it sucks. Mostly because people use his actions against Tim to justify it and honestly? I don't think you should be allowed to use that if you haven't read RR and understood what was going on.

[churipu]

hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^

BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !

featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).

note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!

NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.

for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.

"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.

nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.

"i need to get this done, wait a moment."

that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"

"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."

you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."

at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."

you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.

arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.

the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.

he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).

and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.

the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.

he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.

he could finally sleep.

with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.

"y/n?"

upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"

nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.

the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."

nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."

like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!

CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.

god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.

"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.

first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.

but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.

it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.

"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.

his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."

choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.

"cho, say something."

choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."

for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).

but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.

"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."

okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.

he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."

being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.

"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."

megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."

megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.

poor boy just needed a break.

"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."

"...i do."

argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[surftrips]

CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE

pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader

word count: 600+

summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.

a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.

He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.

"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.

"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."

You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.

It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.

And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.

"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.

But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.

He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"

You frowned, "My love isn't?"

"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."

"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."

Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"

"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."

He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"Promise me you'll never leave my side."

"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."

That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.

[callme-holly]

Hello!! Maybe you could write headcannons with the gang that have a s/o who’s getting picked on? Thank you!!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐧

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I go back to school in like 2 days... yay, im so thrilled... Also I'm so sorry this took be so long to get to, my inbox is crazy right now but I swear I will get to everyone eventually !! Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 864 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of being jumped and fighting, that's it

Darry Curtis - 

If Darry found out you were getting picked on by someone, he would go mental

Like he’d be pissed

He’d instantly want to know who it is who’s giving you trouble 

If it’s the socs bothering you you best believe he’s walking everywhere with you 

His concern would go through the roof 

Darry doesn’t strike me as a typically violent person but if whoever is bothering you decides to jump you/cause you any physical harm, you best believe he’s starting something 

If you’re upset, please let him take care of you, it’ll help calm him down somewhat

Sodapop Curtis - 

If Soda finds out someone’s giving you trouble, he’ll instantly feel guilty

He takes it as his job to look after you and by someone hurting you either physically or verbally, he can’t help but feel like he’s let you down a little

He’ll get Steve to track down whoever it is who’s picking on you; you won’t have to worry about them anymore <33

He’ll cuddle with you for ages to try and make you feel better (although it’s mainly to help reassure himself that you’re okay) 

Much like Darry, Soda will walk you everywhere

This boy will not risk leaving your side and if anyone so much as looks your way, he’s giving them a dirty look and pulling you in the opposite direction 

Ponyboy Curtis - 

Pony will feel horrible and a little annoyed when you tell him you’re getting picked on

If it’s the socs giving you trouble, he’s mad

He’ll walk you to and from places and will try to comfort you best he can

If it’s kids from school, he’s got your back 

Pony will defend your case no matter what and if someone so much as says anything about you, he’s shutting them down with some smart comment real fast

And if you get jumped? Oh boy, he feels awful 

He knows what it’s like to get jumped first hand and he’d never wish it upon anyone

He’d get Dallas to have a “word” with whoever it is bothering you and chances are, you won’t see them again after that 

Johnny Cade - 

Johnny gets so upset when he hears that someone is picking on you but he also gets really angry 

Like, you don’t deserve anything bad that comes to you and he will do anything to protect you

I feel like people really down-play his character like, come on ya’ll, he literally stabbed someone to protect his friend 

If he sees someone giving you grief, he’s standing up for you 

He wouldn’t start a fight, no, but he’s definitely let them know what's up

If you get jumped, he’d comfort you in a heartbeat <33 

You two have got the whole gang backing you both up, so there really isn’t anything to worry about when you’re with Johnny 

Dallas Winston - 

Oh, Dallas… 

When he finds out you’re being picked on, he’s asking for names, appearances, addresses - you name it, this boy wants it

He will fight for you and he will make sure that whoever it is that’s bothering you, learns their lesson

And if you get jumped? He’s arranging a rumble and dragging in the Shepard gang to back him up

He’d walk you everywhere, and I mean everywhere

If you think he’s leaving your side for even a second, you’ve got another thing coming 

He’s got an arm around your waist, your shoulders, his hand in your back pocket and if anyone so much as talks to you, he’s standing behind you, glaring them down

He’s defending you in a heartbeat, no matter who the person is that's giving you grief 

Needless to say, nobody messes with Dallas Winston’s girl, and he’s willing to let everyone know just that 

Steve Randle

Much like Dallas, Steve is asking for names almost instantly 

He will not hesitate to fight someone for you

He gets so defensive on your behalf and will become insanely protective over you

If someone has said or done something to you that really bothered you, he’s comforting you and going after the person in a heartbeat

You’re his number one priority and he wants you to be happy at all times 

You think he’s leaving your side? Nope, no chance

He’s gonna be one step behind you at all times and if he catches anyone giving you problems, they’re in for a rough time 

I’m telling you, he’s shooting everyone dirty ass looks 

If someone so much as says “hello” to you, Steve will be coming up behind you 

“this person giving you trouble, babe?” 

He’s just looking out for you 

Two-bit Mathews - 

The second you tell Two-but you’re being picked on, he’s smothering you with love

He’s not letting you go at all 

He doesn’t want anyone making you think you’re worth less than you are 

Secretly, he’s super pissed that someone would even think to mess with you and if he sees them, he won’t hesitate to confront them 

He’s taking you everywhere you need to go, no complaints <3 

If you get jumped, he will not hesitate to help fix you up before tracking down whoever hurt you

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[discopaddock]

I DON'T WANNA TALK - CHARLES LECLERC

SUMMARY: charles is mad after the bad race, what can go wrong after screaming at his girlfriend?

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

GENRE: angst with happy (???) ending

WORD COUNT: 0.9k

WARNINGS: screaming, crying, charles is mad, traumatizing childhood and parent, ENGLISH ISN'T NY FIRST LANGUAGE

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hiya, was inactive for a (longer) moment, school still sucks, inspiration is taking offence at me and history at school does kill me right now fr (we started the great war recently and watched im westen nichts neues - i hate this kind of films). anyway this was based in this request.

Charles was angry. No, he was furious.

Race didn't go well. He had to retire after Perez touched him and he ended up in the wall.

Race was good, for two laps he was even leading but then the Mexican showed up and Charles’ good race said “bye bye”.

“Charles,” his girlfriend said after they were finally in their hotel room.

He wasn't in the mood for talking. He didn't want her pity. He wanted to take a shower (another one) and scream in his pillow.

The girl was looking at him, worried. This wasn't the state she has seen him for many times. It was the first time actually.

“I don't wanna talk” he answered only and grabbed some clothes of his and entered the bathroom.

“If you’d like to-” she started but he turned around to face her with anger written on his face, panting.

“Shut up!” Charles yelled at her and entered the bathroom. She was left speechless. There were tears forming in her eyes that started falling down when she heard the slam of the door.

Oh, she really didn't want it to come back.

Life was good, great even, then those memories came to her mind, causing another session of crying.

The girl had no idea what to do.

Her eyesight wasn't so clear as she was looking for the tissues, convinced that her make up was smeared as hell.

When she finally found some in her bag, she next jumped on the bed and covered herself with the blanket.

Her heart was hurt, it didn't crack in shatters but still it hurt as hell.

She felt like that seven year old girl, who was standing in front of her father, crying because he yelled at her.

She was screamed at because of trying to make her dad come to terms with her beloved mother.

It was too much for little Y/N. It hunted her for years.

Especially now, when her and Charles were trying everything to have a baby. She was frightened she became the same as her father and her child would have to experience the same case as she had.

And now it was too much for adult Y/N.

She knew she should meet her therapist as soon as she could but she couldn't since she was travelling with her boyfriend around Asia for the next two weeks and her therapist wasn't doing online appointments.

And there she was, still lying on her side of the king-size bed covered with a blanket and still crying.

Charles wasn't aware of his girlfriend's reaction to his behaviour until he left the bathroom, all showered and with a clear mind, and heard sobs in the room.

He sighed only and went to the bed and took a seat beside the girl. He carefully took off the blanket of her face and saw her with smeared make up, red eyes and runny nose.

She didn't want to talk with him and put her head in the pillow, so he couldn't look at her.

“I'm sorry-” he started but her hushed by the pillow voice interrupted him with:

“I don't wanna talk.”

So Charles didn't talk more but kissed her head quickly and left to the living room, to give her space he knew she needed.

The next hour went, well, silent.

Y/N wasn't sobbing anymore, just blowing off her nose and coughing from time to time. Charles at the other hand was thinking about his new song and was trying to write any notes but he lacked at stave paper and at any keyboard or piano.

The girl finally got out of the bed and entered the bathroom. She grabbed some cotton pads and put micellar water on it and began to remove her make up.

It was a heavenly feeling for her, since her eyelids were sticking to each other because of the mascara.

Next she grabbed some cleaning foam and removed the rest of the cosmetics and put on the cream.

The girl left the bathroom and went to Charles who was sitting on the couch with some folded paper around.

He heard her steps and turned around to see her face.

“Ready to talk?” he asked only and she nodded, then sat beside him. “I'm sorry, truly” he said, looking into her eyes, that he loved so much. Now they were puffed and red from the crying.

“I know” she answered and hugged him like a koala. Charles wrapped his arms around her body, without saying any words.

“What happened?” the man asked, rubbing her back with his palm. “Tell me, I'm not leaving this without any explanation,” he added in a calm tone.

The girl was silent for a few moments. But then she told him only:

“Father was screaming at me for trying to help.”

Charles was speechless. He knew his girlfriend’s relationship with her father wasn't good, but he didn't know it was that bad. He never asked since her mother told him not to for the girl's mental state.

“I'm sorry, dove. I'm so sorry” he whispered to her ear, trying to comfort her the best he could.

“I don't want to be like him” she mumbled in the crock of his neck and he sighed.

“You are not like him,” he assured her. “You will never be like him,” he added and kissed her temple. “You are a better person than him, dove.”

“I love you” she mumbled.

“I love you too” she whispered back and they remained silent for the rest of the night, cuddled in each other’s arms.

masterlist

[lxdymoon0357]

I’m seeing requests are open, craving Callisto (from Death is the only ending for the Villainess or Villains are destined to die) X reader. Prompt; they are in a relationship for years, and it’s healthy as it can be, and in healthy relationships arguments are bound to happen no? One day they have an argument that escalates so much that the reader cries, and this is the first time that Callisto witnesses them cry ever. Feel free to range this from tears sliding down the cheeks or full on bawling, but how would Callisto react to seeing his beloved cry for the very first time in an argument in a relationship they have been in for years?

(Okay, now I'm too sure if this came out well....But it's pretty short, kinda upset about that)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

The heart tears apart...

...They say guilt is like rust- it is slow...but powerful and it eats the person alive...How was Callisto suppose to realize that saying was true until your cries fell on deaf ears...? This was not what he thought was result in tonight's anger...And it was all his fault...

He had been upset all day after someone spoke ill of your relationship, saying you're too good for him or he's too wild or he's not deserving of it...He's proud of his achievements, including achieving your love, but sometimes when chronic words are repeated...

They're like tiny pebbles, they don't hurt but there is one stone once in a while which when thrown bleeds into the skin...and that's what happens with vile words of stupid nobles who speak the same thing over and over again...Suddenly he didn't like your relationship for a second, not because of you...Because of himself, he felt angry as his mind spoke that he was tying you down, that he was not worthy of this and that there was someone better for you...

"WHAT DON'T YOU REALIZE, IT'S YOUR UTTER FAULT THAT I DON'T LIKE BEING WITH YOU ANYMORE?!" He yelled angrily, his eyes seeing red

......Was that really him? The one who fell down on his knees in a dying breath when he was away form you for too long, and Callisto didn't realize what he said until it fell in your ears and tears slipped down your cheeks..

Those eyes whom he always wanted to be filled with happiness, the same face he wanted to glow with beauty, smiles and laughter were now covered in tears because of him and suddenly inside him broke as he stopped in between his words, frozen..

You staring down on the ground with tears down your cheeks as he stopped his words, absolutely torn apart,

"Baby-I...I."

he couldn't say anything as he walked closer, he had never seen you cry and he knows why he doesn't let you even cry cause the sight was mentally painful to make him cry on his own as he walked a bit close, taking a hold of your wrist of the hand you were using to rub your eyes harshly to wipe the tears away.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on your wrist was tight as he pulled you in a tight hug, hiding your face in his chest, letting your cry ins expensive tuxedo, inhaling his cologne to calm yourself, clinging to him...

You would have never expected an argument to end with this, as he gently cried in your neck as he sat down and picked you up, pulling him on your lap, apologizing over and over in your skin.

You can't deny, it felt bad...but seeing him upset felt even worse, as you softly ran your fingers through his golden-blonde hair, as if threaded with the purest gold in this world...with the shine of a sun, such a bright smile he had..how sad most people couldn't see it, you did...it was gorgeous and so his sadness hurts just as bad as his anger..

You softly pulled his face up and kissed him, maybe you'll try to fix this again, how gorgeous he was..you couldn't deny his love...and you didn't mind his anger directed at you, even if heart tears apart, he fixed it with all he had..