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#I haven't read through this one all the way through yet but so happy to see stuff like this on Medium.
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Hello there! I've been reading through your works and i love how you write Sunday!!
If your requests are open, I wanted to ask something that takes place at the end of the 2.2 quest so if you haven't done it yet, no worries, you can just ignore this ask!
But if you have played through it… I started thinking about nameless! reader on that stage of the theatre, you know the one where MC and Sunday (who's in that gigantic robot) have that exchange "why does life slumber?" "Because… someday… we'll all wake up from our dreams!" "😮") and then the robot with Sunday inside starts falling off the suspended stage etc.
So, I started thinking about nameless! reader starting to weep, while the everyone else (I think it was the full express crew?) is still on that stage, because of everything that happened. Like sure everyone was exhausted and all that unfolded so far probably took a toll on them, so breaking down after everything is done is normal but for reader there's also something else as they see Sunday fall down (I guess figuratively, too) and regain lucidity after the madness he went through (partially related, but i read someone saying that Sunday ended up being controlled by Ena the Order just like how it happened eras ago before her fall and people exulted that she finally fell and the controlling order was no more).
Omg I'm sorry for the long ask 😅 if you even just read through it I'll be happy. Have a wonderful dayyy
Thank you for the ask!! Also, nuh uh don't apologize for yapping im a long text lover this made my day (stay yapping pooks) also out of topic but I love the way you described the last cutscene
Alright im sorry if I interpret this wrong but I think it's obvious the cause would be a feeling of empathy. So first maybe you're someone who's view is similar to that of Robin in which no matter how low a point gets as long as you're alive you'll still be able to get back up and be better. I hope I phrased it right but basically it's hopeful. Even after seeing this guy through his peak madness, his lowest point, something in you hopes for him to get a good ending. For the siblings to finally fly together and thus seeing him just fall like that, basically him giving up and accepting that he'll never be any better than this, you can't help but feel sad for this guy.
Not to mention the fact that after the whole grand theatre incident, Sunday was not only wanted but also missing (if I remember correctly, sry if im wrong) and you can't help but feel even worse as you see Robin desperate to get any info on his wellbeing. How even after all that, the siblings are yet again grieving. Their dream still far from their reach. The thought alone clouds your brain with nothing but sorrow as you cried for them.
Option two is something I thought about more is imagine you absolutely resonating with him. As he goes on with ideology and beliefs ("Everyday should be Sunday" -Sunday Oak) no matter how dehumanizing or flat out baffling they may be a small part of you agrees with him because you yourself have been in that situation, you once believed in the things he's saying, you were once in his position. But unlike Sunday, you've grown to take on a better mindset. Maybe your journeys as a nameless has helped you become a better person. Not immediately but that's alright, in the end you've made way bigger of a progress from what you started out as.
It's mostly the same as the first but this time it hits harder because it's not some baseless optimism. You yourself are a living proof of it. You can't help but feel guilty. But why? Just the sole fact that you both experienced a similar misery but ended with two endings that are opposite to one another makes you feel sorta crappy for simply being happy.
Both end with you praying to whichever Aeon hears your pleas as you wish mercy upon a fallen angel.
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stratospheric-bebop · 2 months
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hoshigray · 7 months
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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr
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“No.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”
“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 
A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 
But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.
Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 
“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”
And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 
That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 
“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”
“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.
However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”
“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 
Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”
No words, only tapping keys.
“Y/n?”
The keys become louder. 
“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 
Louder.
“Y/n!!”
A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.
The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”
You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.
“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”
“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”
You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 
“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”
You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”
“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 
You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…
After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 
“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 
“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 
“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”
“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…
Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”
“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”
The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.
“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.
"I know you are."
"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”
A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 
No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”
You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”
“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”
“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”
You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.
“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“
“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”
“…….Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“
“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”
Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”
“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”
Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 
You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.
….Three Hours Later….
The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 
Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 
The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.
What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?
“Ah, look who’s awake.”
You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.
Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!
Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 
A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”
“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 
Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 
“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”
He? Wait, wait, we??
The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 
You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”
It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.
“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 
You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 
The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?
“…Yes, I do.”
“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”
Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”
He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 
The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”
“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.
“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”
You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”
Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 
“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 
So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 
You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!
“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 
Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!
“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”
“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 
Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 
Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.
“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 
As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.
So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 
Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 
“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”
You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 
Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 
“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 
He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 
Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”
“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…
He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 
Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 
It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”
“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 
And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!
“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 
Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”
When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!
“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!
…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 
With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 
It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 
Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!
“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”
Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.
“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”
You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…
Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?
You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.
A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 
And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.
Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡
Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?
Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 
You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…
However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 
And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.
Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.
SR + TF
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
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motherlvr · 11 months
Text
love me better, listen more.
wc: 3.2k
Pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader
Summary: After Miles' father died, everything changed. Including your relationship with Miles.
Warnings: angst w/ happy ending, cursing, friends to strangers to lovers, angry makeout session, Flash Thompson exists here
A/N: honestly my fav fic i've made so far, im literally running out of photos for him. im gunna have to start using photos of his jordans
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As you walked home, an arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind, "¿Cómo está mi ángel hoy?" Miles’ voice flowed through your ears.
He called you his, but you weren't lovers.
You were slightly startled but immediately recognized him. Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “Your ángel, huh? That’s a new one.” smiling up at him.
"It suits you." Miles gave you a wink.
Usually, he called you 'ma'. So his switch-up today made you narrow your eyes at him skeptically. "What's with the good mood today? No 'ma'?" You tilted your head at him.
Shrugging it off, he said, "What, I can't be happy to see my girl?" He had a point, except for the fact that you weren't his girl.
You laughed and shook your head at him, "By all means, go ahead." As he accompanied you on your way home, you realized he made your walk home much more pleasant. Arriving at your house, you told him "This is me. Thanks for walking me today." You gave him a light peck on his cheek.
"Course. Make sure to wear that outfit I like tomorrow, mami." He teased with a grin, only half serious.
Rolling your eyes at him, you smiled, "You're insufferable. Adiós, Miles!" You waved as you walked up to your doorstep.
"Chao, princesa." Walking away, his mood felt lighter. He walked home with a little more liveliness than usual.
For reasons unknown, Miles walking you home was becoming a reoccurring event. Within the next few weeks, he walked you home more often than not. You started to look forward to it as you searched for him after school.
As you both walked down the street of your neighborhood for what seemed to be the hundredth time, you approached your house. As you both stood in front of your house, you turned to him and said, "Thanks for walking me home, Miles." You placed a kiss on his cheek. It seemed to be turning into a daily routine now.
"Anytime, princesa. Hasta luego." He smirked at you and watched you walk into your house before leaving.
Little did you know, that would be the last time he walked you home in a while.
Later that evening, you kicked your feet up on your couch and turned on the television. The first channel that popped up was the news channel. Reading the headline, your heart dropped into your stomach. It read,
"Police Captain Jefferson Davis Found Dead At 44.”
"Holy shit." You gasped. In an instant, you dropped the remote and tried to contact Miles. You tried calling but were sent immediately to voicemail. So you opted to text him, "I'm so sorry, Miles. I'm always here if you need to talk."
You left him multiple messages that night to no avail. The following day at school, you tried to scout him out in the halls. But he was never there. You would call if you thought he would answer.
Miles and you always confided in each other. There was a mutual trust between the two of you. However, within less than twenty-four hours, Miles' demeanor completely changed.
Leaving him another message after school, you said, "Where have you been? I'm worried, Miles. But you know that already. Sorry for the messages."
No response yet again. He didn't even bother to read it.
Weeks passed by with little to no contact from Miles. He seemed to entirely disappear. Your concern only grew for him. You haven't even seen him in the hallways at school. There was no denying it, you were starting to miss him.
Although, today was a new day. And for the first time in what felt like a century, you saw him in the hall. He looked a fright. There were new frown lines on his face that weren't there before. He looked slimmer, even. His smug smirk that would always adorn his face around you was no longer present. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him nonetheless. Jogging up to him, you called out.
"Miles, wait." You softly said as you delicately grabbed his arm, not to startle him. He paused, looking back but not into your eyes. He shook your grip off, never making eye contact with you. "I just need some time, alright?" He told you. But what does 'some time' entail? What if he just didn't want anything to do with you in general?
He walked away and didn’t look back.
You felt your heart break into two as you watched him fade away from your view. It broke for both him and you. Seeing him like this pained you. But at the same time, your heart ached as he pushed you away in the process.
Yet, you granted him his wish. You stopped looking for him in the hall. You stopped trying to message him. You stopped leaving voicemails. Maybe if you gave him some time, things would smooth out. Grief is a long process, after all. You couldn't blame him for grieving.
Weeks turned into months without any contact from Miles. And it didn't seem like he was going to break that any time soon.
You fell back into your old routine, the one where you'd never met Miles. He was merely a stranger that you thought too often about. You walked home without him next to you. And into class alone as well. You no longer looked forward to walking with him at the end of the day. The walks home were infuriatingly quiet.
Every day you arrived at your doorstep but never felt at home. You had a home, and he was it.
-----------
While you were getting books out of your locker, an arm slung around your shoulders. An almost familiar sensation. But it wasn't him. Far from him, actually.
Instead, it was no one other than Flash Thompson. His notorious blond hair and conceited attitude were tell-tale signs. You could almost smell the arrogance radiating off of him before you even acknowledged his presence.
"How are you, gorgeous?" He removed his arm from your shoulders to close your locker. Leaning his arm onto the locker above your head, he encased you on your locker with your back against it.
"I'm fine." You dryly responded, uninterested in his pursuits.
"That you are." He gave you a predatory smirk and winked at you. You mentally grimaced. "Anyway. You still with that Morales kid?"
Raising a brow at him, you respond, "We were never together.”
"Huh. He's always by your side, like an over-protective guard dog. So I assumed." Flash said. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. But that wasn't the case anymore. It hasn't been for some time.
This was one of the many times Flash had tried his advances on you. However, it never worked to his intentions since Miles was always there to tell him off. This time was different. Miles was nowhere in sight. At least, within your sight. Meaning Flash had an open opportunity with you. There was no Miles around to try and bite his head off.
"Yeah, well. Not anymore." You muttered. Suddenly feeling awkward, you directed your stare anywhere other than Flash's hungry gaze. An uncomfortable cold shiver ran down your spine.
Flash leaned in, his fingers pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. Whispering in your ear, he told you, "That's too bad. I could treat you better than him, though. He doesn't have to know, baby.”
You looked up at him and tried to hide the disgust that was forming on your face. But, hey. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, you tried to convince yourself. This was a chance to get over Miles. His hold on you was ridiculous, considering you were never actually together. You weren’t going to wait for him to crawl back to you.
You put a hand on Flash’s chest in an attempt to push him away from you. But he misinterpreted it and encased his palm over your hand that was laying on his chest. “See? You’re warming up to me already. You don’t need him.” He cockily said.
Turning your head away from him, you said, “I don’t know, Flash. I’ll think about it.” pretending to consider it. He gave you a displeased look, "What's there to think about? We would be good together, babe." he tried to persuade you. It was evident that he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Miles turned around the corner and instantly spotted you. He’s been skipping almost every day. All of a sudden, he felt glad that he didn’t skip today as he saw you with Flash Thompson. Way too close for his comfort. And then he saw your hand on Flash’s chest. That was his breaking point.
Miles saw nothing but red as he walked over to the two of you. If looks could kill, Flash would've been dealt with by the first second he walked around the corner. He sneered, "Back the fuck off my girl, Thompson." shoving him in the chest away from you.
You couldn’t believe him. After all that time, now is when he decides to make an appearance. He was the one that cut you out of his life. Not you, but him. Huffing at him, you spoke up before Flash did. "I'm not your girl. You've made that clear." You rolled your eyes in irritation.
Flash gave Miles a smug smirk at your words, "You heard her. So go fuck yourself, Morales." He spat at Miles, getting up close and personal with him. As Flash glared at Miles, it was clear he was trying to intimidate him. It wasn't working.
You almost didn't comprehend what was happening as a fist collided with Flash's face, knocking him down momentarily. He groaned in pain, holding onto his nose as blood dripped from it.
“What the fuck?” You screeched at Miles’ outburst. Flash was still laying on the floor, stumbling to get up. Before it could escalate further, you pulled Miles by his arm and dragged him into an empty supply closet. Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
"The fuck is wrong with you, Miles? You don't speak to me for months and now you suddenly want something to do with me?" You said in disbelief.
He said bluntly, "I don't want to see you with him again."
His hands traveled over the curve of your hips to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You tried to get out of his touch. Or, you would've. But his hands on you felt too natural. He felt right.
That didn’t mean you’d let him off easy. This was the first conversation you both held in months.
"Well for the past few months, you didn't want to be seen with me either." You quipped, aggravated. His sudden change of heart polarized your emotions. You were conflicted with yourself.
He shook his head, “I’m sorry, mami. There’s shit going on that I couldn’t involve you in. I can’t bring you down with me.” He uncharacteristically apologized.
His words made you become hyper-aware of his hands on your waist. The way he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs. How you almost folded under his touch, but maintained your unbothered facade. No matter how much time has passed, he still made your heart race.
You scoffed at him and continued, "I’m not going to wait around for you like some lovesick puppy. Do you want me or not, Miles?"
Without a moment of hesitation, he quickly said, “You have no fucking idea.” Inspecting his eyes, you tried to find deception within them. What you saw in return was the gaze of a man starved.
“Then earn me.” Glaring up at him, you harshly retorted as you furrowed your brows at him. But one more look into each other's eyes was all it took for the tension to snap in half.
He grabbed you by the waist swiftly and pulled you in, your lips finally connecting. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your bodies pressed together against the wall of the closet, knocking over supplies. The pent-up frustrations inside of you came undone as you kissed him with all the fiery passion you could muster. You bit his lower lip, making him groan against your mouth. That was a sound you realized you'd love to hear on repeat. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony. Like they were made to fit each other.
His hand traveled to the back of your head into your hair as he pulled it softly, making you muffle a whimper into his mouth.
Miles pulled away for a split second to whisper with a smirk, "Cállate, hermosa. But I'm down if you want everyone to hear." His lips were hovering over yours, only seconds away. You felt both of your chests heaving against one another, his breath overlapping yours. You were sure he could feel your heartbeat.
"Fuck you, Miles." You briskly closed the small distance between both of your lips once again before he could make a crude remark about how 'you'd like that'.
You spent the rest of the class period cooped up with him in the minimal space of the supply closet.
-----------
After school, you looked for Miles. Something you've been restraining yourself from doing over these past few months. However, you were hoping things were different now. In a good way. You'd think spending some quality time in a supply closet together would change things.
But as you looked across the courtyard, Miles was nowhere to be seen. You felt irritated with him once again, but you weren’t going to let him cut you out of his life for a second time.
So you did what any rational person would do. You visited his house to talk with him. You believed that if you had a decent conversation with him, it would fix what broke between the two of you. After all, his mother did tell you that you were always welcome there. His house was the place the both of you created a collection of memories. Memories that you stayed up late thinking about. Before it all went downhill. Knocking on the door, his mother answered it.
You greeted her with a smile, "Hola, Mrs. Morales! Is Miles here?" She gave you a knowing look. Mrs. Morales always did have a knack for knowing exactly what was going on.
Nodding her head, she told you "You caught him at a good time. He's been in and out with his Uncle lately. Come on in." She promptly led you inside the house.
"Gracias, Mrs. Morales." You told her before you made a beeline for Miles' room. Stopping right in front of his door, you knocked. Silence came from the other side. "Miles, I'm going to come in. Please don't be naked." You covered your eyes with your palm as you opened his door.
You didn't hear any yells of protest, so you assumed it was safe to peek through your fingers. As you removed your hand from your face, you noticed he was climbing through his own window. But that's not what made you stop in your tracks. Rather, it was his attire. He wasn't naked by any means. Instead, he was wearing the infamous suit that you've seen on the news time and time again. Over the past few months. The correlation clicked in your brain. He wasn't purposely avoiding you for the last few months. His life was just turned upside down in more than one way. He turned into the Prowler.
He looked just as shocked as you while he climbed through his window. "Fuck, what are you doing here, mami?" He frantically asked.
Closing the door behind you, you said, "I came to speak to you, but it seems like all my questions are answered now." You felt numb.
He didn't have a response. He didn't know what to tell you. It was exactly what it looked like. There were no words exchanged, but much was said within those silent moments.
Breaking the silence, you exclaimed, "Y'know what? Forget it. Forget I came here. Matter of fact, forget we ever met." You just about had it. Miles, the one that used to walk you home, being the Prowler was not exactly something you predicted.
"You know I can't do that." He said. You started to back away from him, turning away. He grabbed your arm with a feather-like touch, despite wearing his steel claws. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you. Not physically, at least. "Just let me explain."
"What is there to explain? That you've been avoiding me for months because you're the Prowler? I don't think anything else needs to be said." You let out a faint melancholic chuckle.
He stared into your eyes as he removed his claws, gently grasping your shoulders. "Mami, just listen to me." He pleaded, "You understand now why I couldn't tell you. That's why I had to stay away. This business is the shit I can't have you affiliated with."
"If you don't want me affiliated, then don't join it." You snapped at him, pushing a finger into his chest.
Your response set off something inside of him as he blurted out, "I'm in love with you. Shit, I love you so fucking much. I always have. You're the only one that's ever on my mind, 'ight? If I permanently lost you, I'd never come back from that."
Those were precisely the words you've been waiting ages to hear. But not like this.
"Miles. I can't be a part of this. I don't want to do this 'back and forth' thing. I can't do this. Not with you." Turning your back on him again, you tried to hold your composure as you stepped away. Out of his grasp. You had no intention to break down in front of him. This time, you were the one walking away. You were going to be the one leaving him.
"Wait," He called out, his voice faltering. You were slipping through his fingers, right in front of his eyes. If he had to beg you to stay, so be it. Even after all that time apart, you've been the sole reason he woke up in the morning. He couldn't afford to let you leave him for good.
"Quédate conmigo, mami. Por favor. I can't lose you again." His voice trembled with desperation. Your steps hesitated, his words plunging knives directly into your heart. You've never seen him like this. And it was a sight you never wished to see again.
So you obliged. You might as well have taken what you said and thrown it in the trash. He had the ability to change your mind with only a few words. Turning back to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He reciprocated as he enveloped your waist with his arms.
You buried your face in his neck as you whispered, "Don't fucking do that again. Don't shut me out." You placed a light kiss on it. You continued, "I love you too, Miles." removing your face from his neck to stare up into his eyes.
"I promise, mami. It's only ever been you." He softly said, pressing his lips to yours. You kissed back with just as much delicacy.
You were aware it was an incredibly dangerous business Miles was involved in. For him, you'd give up anything. You hadn’t a clue what being involved with the Prowler would exactly entail. It was something you both would have to figure out together.
Your relationship was by no means perfect. But you were both learning. As long as it was with him, you wouldn't have it any other way.
-----------
¿Cómo está mi ángel hoy? - How's my angel today?
Princesa - Princess
Adiós/Chao - Bye
Cállate - Shut up, be quiet
Hermosa - Beautiful
Quédate conmigo - Stay with me
Por favor - Please
(yes the title is a childish gambino reference)
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Note
AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?
Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.
In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.
The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.
But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.
I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.
One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.
Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.
I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.
I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.
Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!
What are these acronyms?
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scaredbisexual · 5 days
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MOOTS🥹 I am here to request🙏 Can I request a Joost Klein x reader enemies to lovers? Just a classic trope🤭
You ask and I deliver, my liege.
Dunno if it's enough lovers, if you would like me to elaborate in part two lemme know, I'm open to continuing this story!
Big, big kisses for my first request, too! Love ya!
And he did | Joost Klein x fem!reader
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Summary: ‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely. 
‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ 
Word count: 1011 (in half an hour no less, I'm crazy for him)
WARNINGS: some swearing, nothing explicit
Author's note: there is no use of Y/N, but the reader is referred to as "she" and is mentioned to wear a dress. I haven't yet mastered the ability to write those in a gn way, but gimme some time and I'll try to do better!
The corridors were lively as ever, curving and suddenly ending, loads of people walking around them and talking excitedly amongst each other. It was an important night, one that would be remembered by many for years and years to come. Everyone was ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins, silly and/or sexy costumes on, game-faces on. It was show-time. 
‘For Christ’s sake, let’s just get it over with!’ someone exclaimed from the side but she paid them no mind. She was walking hurriedly, her steps loud and heavy, chest raising rapidly, as if she has just run for hour hours on end. But she hasn’t, no, that was actually more exhausting. 
Rage. The pure rage that was born in her veins, surging through her system, flushing out every other emotion ever known to her. Rage that was born ages ago, eons before. 
Finally having reached her destination she pushed the heavy door to a dim-lit room, a certain name and surname decorating it. “Joost Klein” it read, a dorky-looking cutout of his face hanging right next to it. He must have done it himself. Yeah, that would make perfect sense, actually. 
She opened the door and right away closed it behind her, looking at the scene in front of her. Here he was, in his European-Union-Blue, his jacket laying on the floor, discarded in a hurry, looking sad when it only ever brought joy to people. And next to it, on a plush sofa, wrapped in a blanket and with a teacup in hand, sat him. The reason for her rage, the man who made her see red.
He got startled at her entrance, the liquid sloshing in his cup and burning his hand. He hissed in pain and a grimace made its way on his face. A, objectively speaking, handsome face with a frown etched onto it, brows furrowed, eyes red. 
‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely. 
‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ the man replied, his voice thick with emotion, trying to act like it wasn’t. Like it was just him, the goofy guy with jokes and anecdotes up his sleeves. 
‘Like hell it does!’ she protested. It was hot in the room, so hot and heavy, the silence after her words suffocating them both. He slowly raised his head, turning around to look at her. He tilted his head to the side, silently posing a question. ‘I don’t like injustice, Joost, you know it.’ 
And it was true. She hated when she or others were getting fucked over, lied to, when bad things happened to good people, essentially. 
The rage was still there, it’s quiet bonfire still burning brightly, albeit a little dimmer, just a tad. She didn’t hear any ringing in her head anymore, just the labored breathing of him and her. Of them. 
And isn’t that funny? The both of them sitting in one room, eyeing one another and not saying a word. After all, it was more than usual for them to get into catfights, sneer at one another, jokingly (or not) tease. It has been like it forever, really, ever since they met at this one festival at the beginning of both of their career. It has been like that ever since he spilled his drink on her stage costume and then laughed, not sparing her another glance. 
Ever since they continued to meet on other festivals, her shooting daggers at his and his friends’ careless behavior, him sticking his tongue out at her and walking away. 
Ever since she tripped over one of the cables and bumped into him, causing him to drop one of the microphones and destroying it. Ever since she fought fiercely to not pay for such mike.
That moment, yes. The rage seemed to be saying, its fingers curling around her heart and clenching, stuffing her full of the need to sneer, to bite back. 
But how? How was she supposed to think of this careless teenage boy she met when she, too, was a stupid young girl? How to do it when there he was, curled on himself, dark bags under his eyes, the sleeves of his shirt uncuffed and crumpled, as if he squeezed them in his hands too much. A skipping rope laid somewhere in the mess of the room, discarded just like his jacket.
And so the silence continued while the room got colder and colder, her face softer and his eyes glassier. 
‘Fuck the EBU’ she muttered, walking closer to him. She approached the sofa, took a deep breath and sat next to him. The man followed her every move with his eyes, a glint of something making them shine. Or maybe it was just the unshed tears. 
‘Yeah’ he rasped. Joost shook his blonde hair, as if he were a dog, as if shaking off the sadness. He slapped a goofy looking grin on his face and wiggled his brows at her. ‘You worried or something?’ he teased, nudging her with his elbow. 
And that did it. In the speed of lightning she lounged herself at him and engulfed him in a hug. The kind that breaks bones and any internal barricades you may have. She put her chin on his head and waited. 
To give credit where credit’s due, he reacted instantly. He snaked his arms around her body, resting his forehead on her chest and taking a deep, shaky breath. 
‘You would’ve won this’ she whispered gently, stroking his hair. The rage was gone, the hot hot feeling fleeting the moment she saw his fake smile. Instead another kind of warmth bloomed in her chest, shaking her to her core. And he didn’t seem to fare any better, his shoulders slumping and fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. 
‘You’re okay, it’s gonna be fine’ she mumbled into his hair, stroking his back in soothing circles. ‘Breathe, Joost, just breathe’. 
And he did.
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xamag-draws · 1 month
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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mariasont · 10 days
Text
Spoiled - A.H
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a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did
think im ovulating or something YALL IDK
anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it
warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!
wc: 3.3k
"Penelope Grace Garcia!"
Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.
"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."
"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.
You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 
"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."
Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 
"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."
"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.
"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.
You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.
"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."
"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 
The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."
Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.
Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.
He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.
The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.
The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 
The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.
"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.
He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.
You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.
Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.
"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."
His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.
"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."
You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 
Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.
"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."
You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 
After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.
"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.
You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.
"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 
A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.
"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 
You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.
"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.
He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 
"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."
"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."
There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 
You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.
You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.
With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.
A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.
But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 
You went back to your phone.
Hi
The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.
Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.
"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.
You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"
His response is quick. "You could never bother me."
A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.
"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"
"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."
You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.
"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."
"You know."
You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.
"I don't know, sweetheart."
Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.
"Where are you?"
"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"
Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."
"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."
Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.
"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."
"Yes, it's for you, baby."
You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.
"Why?"
His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 
"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.
You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.
"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.
You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.
"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"
"Yeah."
You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."
"Aaron..."
He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"
Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.
You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."
Wow you're sure you fooled him.
"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."
A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 
"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.
"Where, sweetheart?"
You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.
"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.
He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.
"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."
Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.
"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."
"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."
You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"There you go, that's my girl."
You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.
"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"
You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.
"Okay."
It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.
His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.
But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.
"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.
"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."
"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.
You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.
It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?
"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.
"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."
"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"
You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.
"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."
You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.
The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.
"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."
Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.
"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 
"Go ahead, sweetheart."
That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.
You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.
"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."
You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.
"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.
"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."
He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 
"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."
His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."
"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"
"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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coralinnii · 1 year
Text
forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  feat: Sebek · Rook · Idia · Kalim genre: fluff, jealousy note: not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used (except maybe gendered French words in Rook's part but unsure), established relationships, reader is not part of Scarabia in Kalim's part, reader is implied to be smaller than Jack in Rook's part
I'm not sure how satisfied I am with this one because this was honestly quite a challenge for me. I haven't read book 6 yet so Idia may not be too accurate to his canon character? But still, I hope you guys enjoy it
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Would definitely scold you for forgetting to wear your jacket. No matter how warm or how cold, Sebek always wears his school uniform neatly and with pride, his honour as Malleus' guard on the line. A sloppy appearance reflects a sloppy character, he believes.
You didn’t feel too bad when he was reluctant to give you his jacket upon request. You shouldn’t force someone just because you’re a little cold. 
Fortunately for you, a classmate of yours noticed your shivering and offered his own for the time being, saying he has a spare for Flying class. You thanked your good luck as you graciously accepted. Now Sebek won’t feel bad about not giving you his jacket, right? 
With your newly acquired jacket, you managed to survive the first half of the school day and went to find Sebek in the cafeteria during recess. You waved at him happily as you approached his table but he did not return the greeting. 
He felt a sense of bile in his throat when he saw you in a jacket that did not fit you at all. The shoulders were too wide and the sleeves engulfed you. Sure, you looked cute but he doesn’t like it. He initially thought that it was because he didn't like how unfitting it was on you. 
“Human, where did you acquire that jacket? It doesn’t suit you at all” 
When you answered how someone offered his jacket to you, the bile was more prominent. The way you snuggled into another boy’s jacket, the oversized fabric enveloping you like a warm cocoon. Sure, he was hesitant over handing you his jacket before, but knowing someone else provided for you hits him in a sore spot as your boyfriend. He wants to be the one to take care of you, to be your ever reliable knight. 
Quickly, Sebek stood up from his seat and started to remove his own jacket. Without looking at you, he asked you to remove the jacket you have and put his on. 
“But I’m comfy” 
“Please, I…I beg of you” 
You did as he asked and after quickly putting away his lunch tray, he escorted you back to your dorm to get your own jacket and to quickly return the jacket of that generous classmate of yours. 
“The idea of seeing someone else take care of you… as your boyfriend, I will not stand for it!”
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A masterful huntsman, Rook Hunt is not an easy man to track. Not to mention the fact that he’s a third year and Pomefiore’s vice Housewarden, you figured that searching for him this early in the day would be a fruitless endeavour. 
Luckily, you did find Jack who, despite his grumbles over your absentmindedness, offered his jacket to you. Happy, you promised that you returned it with a favour to the beastman. 
However, the atmosphere around you seemed odd to you as the school day went on. Other students, particularly the beastman students, were busy whispering and gossiping behind you which confused you and honestly got a little bit on your nerves. 
All those unpleasant feelings quickly disappeared when you spotted a familiar feathered hat in the distance. Without a word, you quickly rushed through the crowd to give your boyfriend a hug from behind. 
Or least, that’s what you planned if it weren’t for Rook quickly turning to encase you in his arms instead. 
“I thought I heard your adorable footsteps running towards me. What a wonderful surprise!”
You laughed, thinking you should have known nothing gets past Rook. You tried to step back but realized that Rook maintained his grip on you, inspecting you with a look of curiosity. 
The hunter looks over your newly acquired jacket. The shoulders are much too bulky to be yours. He noticed the Savanaclaw emblem on the sleeve which would explain the jacket's size considering how the majority of those students are. However, he caught the scent of something -  of someone - familiar. A certain tall, gruff beastman to be precise. 
“Mon amour, is this perhaps… Jack Howl’s jacket?” 
“Oh, how did you know?” You exclaimed as you told Rook how you were cold today and Jack offered his jacket to you this morning. 
“So that explains the whispering I’ve been hearing” Rook thought as he carefully traced the lapels of the jacket clearly not tailored for you. There’s a charm to see you in a new look like this but the hunter himself is experiencing a new emotion, a burning feeling in his chest that compels him to rip away the offending fabric. Is this jealousy? Perhaps a possessive urge to reclaim his spot that feels threatened by a newcomer? 
Oh, what a beautiful new experience you have given this admirer of beauty. Rook happily revels in this feeling he has never experienced before until meeting you. 
“How wonderfully kind of him. Let us find him, I must share my thanks for caring for my beautiful trésor~” 
There’s a part of you that feels like it would not be a good idea to bring Rook to your friend, but you decided to brush that anxious feeling away. After all, the smile on Rook’s face convinced you that there was no harm (poor choice, really). 
Hidden from your sight, Rook’s fingers slightly twitched in anticipation as the two of you went to look for the white-haired freshman. Rook truly did want to offer his thanks to the beastman…with some helpful tips for surviving a hunter. 
“One must be very careful in the wild. It is not smart to leave marks near a hunter’s territory”
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You didn't even bother to try asking him, this man isn’t even on campus. Even if he was, you doubt he would give you his jacket, probably claiming it’d be “such a normie cliche”, leaving you to find other means to find warmth. 
Thankfully, you found the kind-hearted Silver who was gracious enough to lend you his school jacket for the day. With all the interesting types of students you have encountered on this campus, your flame-haired boyfriend included, Silver is odd himself for simply being such an outlier case of a typical student here. 
The day went off normally, and you decided to visit Idia in his room before heading back to your dorms. You hope you could spend some intimate time with him, some cuddling and perhaps a kiss or two. 
Too bad your boyfriend had other plans, which was apparently playing video games while purposely ignoring you. His back is turned towards you and every time you get close to him, the gamer has the audacity to scoot AWAY from you. 
“Idia, please tell me what’s wrong before I actually get mad” 
“...that jacket” You heard him mumble which confused you further. You asked to repeat himself. 
Which led your introverted boyfriend to yell out, surprising you. “You're wearing that jacket! And it had to be that guy who’s practically an otome game target!” 
Idia was sulking the entire day as he saw you through the security camera accepting Silver’s jacket. He wanted to scream and call foul-play on that but instead he reluctantly faced reality. Of course, Silver will be that type of guy. The mysterious but kind knight archetype with good looks to boot. Idia wouldn’t be surprised if he was some kind of long lost prince. 
“Well, I would love it if my boyfriend would give me his, if he wasn’t allergic to coupley stuff” there was some snark in your tone but you never really want to pressure Idia to do something he doesn’t want. You would love to show off your relationship with Idia but you wanted to respect his comfort.
Idia knows that, and he’s grateful for you for not pushing him too far out of his comfort zone. But still, knowing someone acting like that with you, all sweet and caring, leaves a sour taste in Idia’s mouth.
There was a short pause between you two, letting the mood settle before saying anything else. Then, Idia quietly asked, “Do you want to share jackets…with me?” 
“Absolutely” you gasped excitedly and without another word, Idia turned to his computer and started searching the Internet for worthwhile jackets in his sizes and yours. If you have more jackets then you won’t have to go around asking for someone else’s.
Also, even he can’t resist the giddy feeling of seeing his amazing lover wear something that’s special only to you and him, not that he would admit it out loud. Too cringe.
“If we’re doing the lame normie stuff, we’re doing it our way. And no sharing with anybody else, right??”
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Kalim would absolutely offer you his jacket, his vest, his shirt, heck even his pants without question. Whatever you want, he would give it up no questions asked. But you were surprised how you couldn’t find your boyfriend at first, until he texted you he had to be called in for a Housewarden meeting with Crowley which leaves you to wait for him in the cold. 
Luckily, a classmate of yours from Scarabia saw you shivering and offered his jacket to you. Afterall, you were his Housewarden’s beloved so he wanted to make sure you’re warm for Kalim’s sake. You were touched by this sentiment and accepted the jacket, promising to return it after meeting with Kalim.
Kalim ran to hug you as soon as he saw you as he left his meeting, enveloping you in his warm embrace with a grin on his face. In his excitement, it took a while for him to register your slightly new look. 
“Did you join Scarabia? Are we in the same house now?!” Kalim excitedly asked which you laughed at his silliness. 
When you explained the story about the jacket, Kalim was really glad. He thought about how lucky he is to have such kind people in his dorm that was so happy to help out his beloved, he must reward them later! The white-haired man was happy that you were cared for in his short absence. 
But, what is this other feeling in his heart? This heavy feeling in his chest that slightly aches when he saw how you adjusted the jacket on you, bringing it closer to your body like a comforting blanket. He felt unsatisfied, almost fearful of your attachment to this jacket. 
Was he jealous? 
Kalim shook off his thoughts as he removed his soft beige cardigan and the jacket you have. You watched him confused as he draped his cardigan over you, replacing the heat from your classmate’s jacket to his.  
“Kalim?” 
“I just thought you’d be comfier if you had my cardigan instead. It’s really soft!” he grinned as he pulled the large cardigan to wrap around you like a cute burrito. 
And to be fair, Kalim’s cardigan WAS comfier. Probably made with the highest quality and taken the best care by you assume Jamil. You happily snuggled into its warmth, reveling in the cloud soft coat, missing the loving looks from your sunshine of a boyfriend. 
Yea, he definitely likes seeing you in his clothes better. 
Don’t be surprised to see packages of luxurious coats and sweaters from yours truly. You two can match!
“If you’re ever cold, you can always come to me first! I’ll make sure to keep you warm!”  
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mxtantrights · 30 days
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Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))
Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!
Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol
Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷
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Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.
He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.
They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.
"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.
You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."
"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.
Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.
"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.
"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.
Hell. This has to stop.
"Enough." you speak.
They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.
"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.
Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.
"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.
You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.
When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.
"Baby?" you ask him.
Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.
"I'm sorry." He says.
"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.
Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"
"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"
Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."
You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.
"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"I swear it." you answer.
a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!
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amaranthineghost · 2 months
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I'LL LET YOU GO IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT ( lando norris. )
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lando norris x reader
a little over half a year later when the season ended, they haven't found their way back. At least not on purpose, but the universe knows better than them
authors note: I was thinking of making a happy ending, but not everything always ends up that way </3 after this, I'll work on two max imagines and then I'll see what I can do while I'm on spring break
part 1 found here
IT’S BEEN EIGHT MONTHS since she last spoke to him.
two hundred forty-three days since she last saw that sad look on his face in the rear-view mirror as she drove away from the past she half-wished was her future.
five thousand eight hundred thirty-two hours since she last felt his touch, his arms consoling and unwilling to let her go and yet she still left.
three hundred forty-nine thousand, nine hundred and twenty seconds since the peak of his performance at the beginning of the season. now she watched as he tried and failed to be what he once was. maybe not a winner, or a champion, but he’d had her, which was practically equal.
but now he had lost her.
now she watched as the season came to an end. poor performance after poor performance after poor performance where not all races ended in crossing the finish line.
she never stopped watching, yet she could never reach out, and neither would he. he was always going to be ready to accept her back into his life, yet he knew she needed time.
but she didn't know if she could do it again, though at the same time she kept eyeing his life in envy because part of her wished she could live the way he could without being bothered by the media. part of her was jealous he could live his entire life in front of a camera and be so nonchalant about it.
scrolling through his socials, they still followed each other and it caught people's attention. she read through countless tweets, theories and rumors of their relationship still carrying on behind the cameras, and though she partly wished it to be true, she hated that it wasn't. the fans still wished, and she would too.
the random appearances in the paddock had come to an end, unfortunate for the fans who loved whenever she’d show up in support of her boyfriend, turned ex.
because now all she did was stay within the confines of her apartment building, shielded from the possibility of running into lando. she couldn’t handle bumping into him when she still felt as fragile as glass. she felt like she would shatter if she saw him again, no matter how much she wanted him back.
but living in monaco means you're bound to run into someone from his circle of life.
it felt bittersweet because she wanted him back so badly, to have him hold her in his arms and tell her they’d make it work. but it’d never happened, and truthfully, she hoped it never would. because she knew that if she saw him, she wouldn’t go running back into his arms as if making it work again was the easiest option. because really, if she saw him, she would run, not towards him but away, and she dreaded the fact that he would let her.
he’d watch the love of his life run from him rather than to him and be totally fine with it. because he knew that when the time was right, she would find him again, or he would find her, and only then she wouldn’t run from him.
but he feared for the day that he would realize that she was never coming back to him. he feared for the day where he would realize he shouldn't have let her go.
and he hopes for the day, though it may never come, where she does find the right time to come back to him. he prays for the day where he would make the right choice he should've made the first time.
because in the infinite universes that are said to exist, even if she never returns in nearly every one, he hopes to live the one where she would.
but he knows that if there's a universe where she comes back, even after his idiocy of letting her go to begin with, there's also one where this could've been avoided all together. a universe where he didn't have to watch her pack her bags while shuddering with sobs.
a universe where he wouldn't have to go without her for eight months, where his performance improved when she attended grand prixs.
the one he'd rather live with her than without.
it was unsure when they would ever see each other again. they'd gone this long without seeing the other, who's to say they ever would?
it was chilly in the streets of monaco, contrast to the usually warm, sunny climate the area was known for. she wore a thick coat while she walked down the sidewalk, past the seasonal market with nothing more than her phone, wallet and tote bag.
she needed to get out, to think. she couldn't stand being trapped in the box of her apartment surrounded by nothing but reminders of him. not that it was a bad thing.
she couldn't take another second overanalyzing the helmet he had left for her. she knew it was part of his plan to have her back. to make her want more helmets dedicated to her, which he continued to do despite her not being with him. she'd be lying if she said his plan was failing.
the hoodie, probably tied into the same plan, covered in his damn cologne he knew she couldn't get enough of. it had faded over time, becoming replaced with the smell of her instead. she didn't know what to think of it.
she considered purchasing that same cologne again, drowning the fabric in its fragrance. it wouldn't be the same.
she felt like she could breathe easier with the winter air rather than the stale air of her apartment. sure, she could've stepped onto the balcony, but it was always nice to find a way out of her apartment complex.
hands stuffed in her pockets, she wandered around aimlessly at the shops that lined the streets and stalls set up to buy from.
riddled with things that caught her eye, she couldn't help but stop at nearly every stall. it took an incredible amount of self control to not buy everything she wanted. she didn't have lando by her side to buy everything.
this was her life now. she had a job that she could do from home and it paid her rent. it was enough to live off of while she completed her last years of school before she started a career for herself. tiny little trinkets seemed good in the moment, but she knew long-term that it’d eventually hurt her financially, and besides she didn’t have that much space in her apartment.
she didn’t know how much time had passed. everything was a blur as she mindlessly walked on. she hadn’t noticed when she bumped her shoulder into somebody’s chest, and she had immediately begun to apologize.
“i’m so sorry, i wasn’t looking where i was—lando?” she recognized the curly-haired guy in front of her as she stood there frozen.
“hey, long time no see,” he spoke slowly and warily, looking her up and down at the changes of her appearances that occurred over the last eight months.
“uh—what are you doing here?” she questioned, stuttering over her words just slightly as she looked at him tensely.
lando looked around with a brow raised, hands in his pockets while he answered, “uh, i live here?”
she nodded, “right.”
the air was awkward as they stood in a tense silence. people ushered around them, occasionally bumping into them. they hadn’t known what to say to each other because they weren’t expecting this impromptu meeting.
“how’ve you been?” he broke the silence.
she nodded again, “fine, and you? i saw that your season wasn’t too good.”
he grimaced softly at her words, “yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “just some technical issues.”
“right.”
the silence was back and more deafening than the first time, standing awkwardly looking at each other didn’t help.
again, he was the one to break it, “could i buy you a drink?”
“isn’t it a bit early for alcohol?” she questioned, looking at the brightness of the sky before her gaze settled back down at him with a weird look.
he scoffed, “i mean the coffee shop down the street,” his voice was a half chuckle as he began walking, leaving her to follow.
“well, you’re unpredictable these days,” she fell into step with him as they walked side by side in silence.
it took all of two minutes for them to arrive at the coffee shop lando had mentioned. they could smell the aroma from a ways away, the door left open to let in the cool breeze.
the shop was warm and cozy, most tables were occupied except for a few scattered around. she reached for her wallet to buy herself a coffee, but he quickly shut it down.
“it's my treat,” was all he said before he walked up to the counter with his card in hand to order as she took the two seater by the window, setting her bag down on the ground. she watched the world from where she sat, the people walking by.
groups of friends, pairs that weren’t quite at the stage of being a couple, or the single person walking by every so often. all without crossing paths. it seemed crazy to her how so much could change because of a stranger on the street.
looking back to where lando stood ordering, she wondered what her life would’ve been if they hadn’t met. they wouldn’t have traveled the world, stayed out late on rooftops, or partied in clubs despite her hesitancy. he wouldn’t have dedicated nearly his whole career to her because she was forever a piece of him.
she realized how much she had meant when she saw just how much of her he still kept. he wore shirts with printed pink bows, the one gold bracelet he wore among the silver and fan bracelets given to him by her and he never took it off. the way he styled his hair in the way she taught him, the matching rings they still wore, the references of her personality on his helmet for every race rather than a specific track, her name on his car.
her name on his car.
her name printed in pretty cursive across the top of his steering wheel and the halo for him to see.
he still managed to include her in his life despite her absence because he considered her his lucky charm. having reminders of her anywhere he could would always manage to boost his spirits, but only her presence would boost his performance.
the chair across from her pulled out with an uncomfortable scrape of the legs against the floor. she grimaced slightly, but it quickly disappeared when she refocused on the hand that slid a mug filled with hot coffee to her.
clearly they were going to be here a while, judging from the mug and not a to-go cup. she watched the steam swirl into the air as she softly blew on it while lando sat across from her with his beverage of choice. she also noticed the chocolate-chip cookie in a paper bag he held.
he remembered her love of sweets. she took a sip of her coffee. he remembered her order to the finest detail. he still remembered.
“thanks,” she spoke quietly before taking another small sip of the hot beverage. it slightly burned her tongue and throat as she drank, but she didn’t care to notice.
she was sitting across from lando norris, the one person she had been hoping to avoid this whole time, and now she’s sat with him at a coffee shop they used to frequent when they were dating.
“you’re welcome,” he muttered, his saddened eyes unmoving from her face, watching every expression of hers unfold. “so, how have you been?”
“you’ve already asked that,” she stated simply.
“i mean,” he started, leaning forward with his arms crossed against the table, “how have you really been? i don’t believe for a second that you’ve been fine when i‘m barely holdin’ it together.”
she sighed, taking another sip and grimacing at the burn, “it’s been difficult, but i know it was for the best that we broke up.”
he nodded in response, his fingers circling the rim of his mug as he stared into it.
she spoke up again, saying the words he dreaded to hear, “and i think it should stay that way.”
his shoulders visibly dropped and he bit his cheek before he looked back at her with colorless eyes, “but—” he began when she hastily cut him off.
“i need you to let me go,” her voice cracked as she spoke and tears filled her eyes as she avoided his gaze, “you have to let me let you go, lan.”
“please, don’t make me do this,” he begged, leaning forward again with a look that could make her change her mind in a second.
“please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” she shook her head as the tears began to fall, “in another universe, it might’ve been me and you, maybe the circumstances would've been in our favor, but not in this one.”
“it’s just right person, wrong life.”
“i’ll find you in our next lifetime then,” he promises, his eyes brimming with tears. he tried his best to hold back, for her, “i promise.” he tried to remain strong, for her.
“I know you will.” she said simply, smiling through her tears as she pursed her lips, sniffling as she played with her fingers. “y’know, i'll always be your number one supporter, lan. i'll still cheer for you, just from behind a screen. in that other life, i would come to your races.”
“but even in this one, i'll still celebrate your first win, your first championship. i'll vote you for driver of the day, even if you’re dead last.”
he chuckled sadly at the last part, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile, “how will i know for sure you didn’t get bored of watching me race?” his hand reached across the table, his tan slightly faded and his rings cold.
she rolled her eyes softly, “you’ll know. i promise.” she laid her hand on his, the last somewhat intimate touch they’ll ever have with each other because after he watched her stand, pocketing the cookie he bought. he watched her through the window as she walked into the crowd as if their paths never met.
he watched with tears in his eyes, silently crying as he watched the love of his other life turn her back on him forever. he let her.
because if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was letting her go.
part of her wanted him to chase after her, wipe her mascara-stained tears just like that regretful day in their old apartment because part of her still wanted him in her life. she wished she could still go back sometimes.
he wished she would just come back. he wanted to experience life with her, he wanted to win with her, be a champion with her.
but he lived in the wrong universe, and he was unsure if he'd ever see her in this life again, in the way he wanted. they would bump shoulders on the street, looking longingly for just a second as they ushered by in a hurry. not looking back, but never forgetting how much they had meant to each other for the time they were together.
how crossing paths, even for what seemed like the shortest time to them, changed the trajectory of their lives forever. they would subconsciously look for qualities of each other in the people they moved onto. telling stories to their kids and grandkids about the other in regretful tones because they wished it was the kids they had together that they could tell the story of their relationship to.
because now they were just strangers, she was just a name he would forever keep on his car, and he was just an old lover turned stranger she would send flowers to after every podium and win until he would retire.
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @leclercdream
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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flowerflowerflo · 3 months
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🤍𓂃 ࣪˖ if you can read this, it means you're still here! which is an achievement in itself. im so proud of you. <3
i have been falling back into some bad habits recently, and thinking about it a lot. i had a really, really bad night last night and this morning i woke up with puffy eyes and a messy room but i felt light.
imagine yourself in december this year. imagine yourself looking back on today and smiling at how far you've come. everything can change in one year. everything can change at any time.
there is a whole entire world for you. the sound of rain on the glass, the way the petals fall in the spring, the way the sun rises in the morning, that stranger that smiled at you on the street, that cute little dog you saw on your way to work or school or wherever you went to this morning.
there are people you haven't even met who are cheering you on. you have so many people admiring you from the sidelines because they're too shy to say it. i have been one of those people and still am. there are people who admire the tiniest things about you; the creases by your eyes when you smile, the cute little dimples on your cheeks, the way your hair gets so messy after being out in the wind, the way you hold yourself with such confidence, the way you try so hard to be better every day even if it's hard.
there are people who love you beyond belief that you've never even met yet. because there is so much to be explored, so much to be learnt, so much to see and so much to meet. 8 billion people. 8 billion. even if it feels like you're surrounded by people who don't love you, who don't want the best for you, who don't take care of you and admire you half as much as they should, they are not the last people in the world, and they never will be. there are 8 billion people! think about that for a second! there is someone who is wishing for you the way you are wishing for them! there are people who have so much love for you they haven't even had the chance yet to express!! that's so beautiful!!! <3
there are people who do love you beyond belief, even if you guys don't talk anymore. there are people who smile when they look back on you guys time together, from your childhood best friend to that girl you complimented in the street years and years and years ago. there are people who look back on your memory fondly and still love you and are so happy to see you flourishing.
its okay to be sensitive, its okay to get upset by things. not everything is going to be okay all the time, and neither are you. you can't have good without the bad, and the good always comes afterwards better than you'd ever imagined. life is feeling everything deeply and learning from it, no matter how hard it was or still is. you can always make it through because the most sensitive people are the strongest people.
there is so much life left. you are so young, no matter how old you are. there is so much you can do, so much you will do, so many achievements to be made, so many friends to meet, so many experiences you can learn from. you will get your happily ever after and you will make something beautiful out of your life because life is messy and imperfect and constantly growing and that is beauty.
please keep living, because there is so much to live for. even if you want to go back to that home of sadness you've built over the years, even if growth is messy and uncomfortable, even if things aren't going too great right now, even if it's not everything you thought it would be, you've survived your entire life with you helping you through it even if you've been alone.
you've picked yourself back up every. single. time. and are still making an active effort. that is extremely strong and you've done more than 90% of other people would do in your position and all the things you've been through. you've tried so hard and you should be so proud of yourself. and you should keep going for, because the life you're dreaming of is so close. please smile. please never give up. there is so much left to live for. i love you & you should do the same.
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ivesambrose · 7 months
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ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛꜱ
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1. 2. 3.
╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝°❈°╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝
If you feel lost, aimless, overwhelmed or unsure in regards to yourself this has found it's way to you at the right time.
Personal Readings
Masterpost
Thank you for the tip! 🌹
Picture 1
A lot of you are burnt by your own ambitions and a need to prove something. You quietly wonder if you're even passionate about anything anymore or you are but do not what to do, where to start so you end up spacing out and procrastinating. Likely you were made to believe that if what gets you excited and happy doesn't automatically put you on the map and bring you money in traditional ways then it's practically useless.
You have in a way put yourself down consistently due to these external projections.
Of what I'm picking up on some of you are passionate about the following :
- Dancing
- Fitness
- Makeup
- Music
- The occult
- crafting something intricate such as designing jewellery or curating them
- A select few might be into taxidermy, herbology and even archeology
- A combination of the above, some of you have your own allure and might want to get into modelling, styling, dancing and design. You want to express yourself freely including your sensual as well as spiritual and esoteric side.
You want to be known but you want to stand out, with your accumulated power you want to guide others too, make them feel less alone and more understood and yet you want to be an enigma and mystery. You do have a strong potential to be a muse to many.
Your hidden talents:
- Something that is coming through significantly that it is something from your past/childhood/early teens that you had to sacrifice/were made to sacrifice even if you cared for it deeply and wanted to nurture it. It makes you bitter to this day because you were naturally good at it.
- Some of you should definitely consider working for animals especially birds. You have a gift to heal and develop empathy with them.
- Some of you can end up being excellent bakers and decorators.
A lot you can find success in the entertainment industry, media, running your own business and being your own boss, you have excellent leadership skills and determination it's just that you haven't gotten the chance to explore that side of yourself yet.
The advice here is to only look back at the past to pick up what you had left and walk ahead. Become your friend and ask your own subconscious to show the way, trust me you will be shown when you least expect it.
Picture 2
You simply love to learn and acquire knowledge. You could have specific subject(s) you're drawn to or you don't even like limiting yourself to that. You'd rather be an eternal student. I wouldn't be surprised if you were drawn to picture 1 or 3 as well. You have a thrist that sometimes almost feels insatiable.
You are rather intellectual and often give very sound advice. Mainly cuz you are highly self aware and very intuitive.
Regardless of anything else, you seek inspiration and adventure above all. You do tend to get bored with just one thing easily.
Of what I'm picking up on, some of you are passionate about the following:
- Learning, experimenting, teaching and innovating. Again this could be any topic or multiple. Could be something as literature and academics or physics or could even be cooking or carving wood. You could even be here educating people about Gothic architecture or the human anatomy. Or all of this. You're not meant to confine yourself.
- A lot of you seek travel and adventure. Even be passionate about extreme sports.
- Languages and culture.
- Some of you want to try and do everything, experience different things and don't want to niche yourself down. Your passion can simply be experiencing your life to the fullest so you have wisdom to give and stories to narrate and memories to look back on and trust me, that is more than enough.
Which quickly brings me to your hidden talents because you're supressing quite a few:
- Some of you can be excellent astrologers or even astronomers.
- A lot of you can read into symbolisms real. You can be a gifted psychic too if you aren't aware already.
- You can be really good at sports like archery, fencing, MMA etc
- Creative direction, photography is also coming through.
- You're very good with your words, whether it be in writing or speaking.
You are rather mutable and a very poised individual too, you can easily influence the people you come in touch with. Some of you can be good speakers, representatives or the face of a brand. Whatever you do, you end up being very good at it whether you like it or not.
The advice is to simply continue what you're doing, you're not as lost as you think you are. Keep making connections and continue being yourself instead of trying to make yourself small and fit in or follow trends or the algorithm.
Picture 3
You feel like a misfit and an outsider so much so that being passionate about anything worries you because you may end up looking a fool, not being good enough or not being disciplined enough.
You carry a lot of anguish in you mainly because you had to focus on things that were expected of you or because you had to survive so you might feel like you're good at many things but not great or could be great at something but you don't necessarily love it.
You're an interesting group here because you haven't even allowed yourself to feel excited about things.
What are you truly passionate about? I see nature, authenticism, a slower, softer life. The word passion itself feels too intense and deliberate for you.
You simply want to experience a life that doesn't feel like you running on a treadmill till your knees give out.
I do see there's an innate desire in you to help others, be it people or animals or even a dying plant. You want to find your peace and bring some of that peace in others lives too. Your energy feels like a walking into a warm cabin in the woods during winter with freshly made dinner waiting.
Hidden talents you have ample, a lot of them are based on learning and perfecting with practice :
- Cooking, experimenting with different herbs. I do see some of you have the potential to start a small business that involves food.
- Gardening and farming
- Painting
- Tattooing (this is coming through because it can be very therapeutic for a lot of you)
- Perfume making is also coming through as well as skincare.
- pottery and sculpting, crocheting etc
- reiki, medicine, physical therapy etc
- divination
Think of a life that's a bit more laid back a career that makes you feel less on the edge.
You've already been running on the validation of people who think you're dispensable or your worth is tied to something outside of you that you can't even find meaning in.
The world needs more souls like you.
The only advice is to be more compassionate with yourself, you're not running a race even if people have constantly been reminding you of it, there's no finish line. The only truth that matters is the story you tell yourself, over and over again. It will come to pass. Continue being. Continue creating instead of wondering about the how. You've figured out many things in your life, let life sort this out for you.
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fandomrose · 1 month
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Sunday - Love Hypnosis
Sunday hypnotises you (consensually) to relax you.
No spoilers.
No description of reader or readers troubles so project what you are personally struggling with as you see fit.
No angst just fluff. I thought this concept would be cute. I've seen many a yandere Sunday hypnotises you, and that's great but consider - consent and fluff.
(This isn't a jab, I too enjoy a yandere fic from time to time but I also want to see fluff and I haven't seen this done in a fluffy way yet.)
I don't know why I'm mildly obsessed with this man but I am. (Cough Cough, I read maximum ride as a kid and now I automatically fall in love with winged characters. Cough Cough.) I need him to hypnotise me please and thank you.
(I have a few fics in the works that I need to finish but I'm struggling.)
As usual enjoy. Love ya 💙
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"Darling?" Came the light and airy tone of your beloved. Though there was a hint of worry in his voice as he took in your face down, slumped form. "Are you alright?"
He could tell very well that you were not alright. But he would coax an answer out of you one way or another. Though the only answer he received was a groan.
"Darling." He sighs but chuckles at your obviously aggravated self. "Allow me to help you." 
Your body goes limp as you let him move you from a sofa to your shared bed. "My darling. Tell me what's gotten into you."
He chuckles as you groan out a single word relating to your issues. "Life."
"Oh, my darling. You'll let me soothe you for the night won't you?" He only felt it was right after the many nights you had soothed him. 
Patient, kind, understanding. Three words that when asked by others what you think about each other, you'd both say about each other. A pure give and take without a scoreboard, that's how you operated. You were both busy or stressed for one reason or another so that's how things had to be.
The simple love you shared was enough most days but sometimes things went wrong.
Sunday had performed hypnosis on you before so he knew it worked but he'd never engage unless you agreed. You knew the question he asked meant he wanted to soothe you via hypnosis, and with the state of your mind you would happily agree. 
"Please do." 
He wouldn't offer if he didn't have the energy you knew this, a rather large argument took care of that when he'd overworked himself then passed out after hypnotising you once and a medic had to be rushed in. Needless to say, you weren't happy with his carelessness. And seeing how upset you were he agreed to be more careful with his health.
You didn't want to think anymore so as you lay there looking up at him with your tired eyes and weary mind, he smiles. He caresses your face and hair before taking a deep breath and reciting that familiar chant.
"Oh triple faced soul, allow me to take hold of this one's mind and soothe them of all worries and burdens. The word Beloved will be the catalyst for control."
With that simple incantation your mind belonged to Sunday for a short while. Your mind felt fuzzy and slow but not unpleasantly, the way it would when you achieved complete relaxation. 
Like he had done before, he would take you through your nightly routine with this hypnosis.
"Beloved, follow me to to the bathroom." He helped you up while your body automatically followed his words and stood up. 
Walking was about the most complex task you could complete, he wasn't Xipe Themself, so his power only went so far. 
"Beloved, lift your arms." 
You do as told and he aids in stripping you, ready to be cleaned. 
"Beloved, sit on this stool and close your eyes." 
You again do as told his voice muffled through the layers of hypnosis, but soothing nonetheless. "I am going to wash your face first darling." He always narrates what he does before doing it as not to startle you.
You felt a cool, wet, cloth glide over your face and you can't help but sigh with satisfaction. You feel it gently caress your cheeks and softly rub your eyes tickle behind your ears. You hear the cloth being rinsed and wrung, the muffled sounds of the water soothing you further.
"I am going to wash your upper body now darling." And, as before, you feel the damp cloth glide over your neck and upper body, letting him move you has he sees fit. Soft humming coming from him lulls you deeper into his hypnosis. The cloth glides down and caresses your chest before moving to wash your back. You'd make sounds of relaxed satisfaction if you could but your exhausted body coupled with the hypnosis has made your brain devoid of any thought or control. Just how you want it. 
He moves back to the front of you with a new cloth. "Beloved, spread your legs, I need to clean you." 
Your body complies without hesitation and that's what he does, making sure to be extra gentle around this sensitive area. He is thorough but doesn't linger long this time, not wanting to spark anything in you this evening.
Standing to switch the cloth again, "I'm going to wash your legs and feet now darling." Still being as gentle as ever his hands and the cloth slowly makes their way down your legs massaging them as they go. A light massage is given to your feet as well before he finishes and pats you dry with a towel before he deems your body clean.
"Beloved, open your mouth wide." 
He orders next, your mind too fuzzy to think of what else could be doing. You hear more water then feel a hand on your chin. "I'm going to brush your teeth darling." Then light scrubbing of your teeth and tongue can be felt, he is thorough with this area too. Not wanting to be the reason you have cavities he takes his time. Not too long later he finishes with you. You can hear things being put away and muffled sounds of him walking around you, maybe inspecting you. Before he stops in front and, 
"Beloved, open your eyes and stand up. Its time to go to bed."
You're led back into the bedroom now that he is satisfied that you are clean. "Beloved, are you ready to sleep?" 
Compelled to answer, you do. "yes"
"Beloved, do you want to sleep with me?"
"Yes"
"Good, let's get to sleep then shall we." 
The sounds of fabric and draws is all you hear for a moment before he guides you into bed with him. 
"Beloved, lay down." 
When he's satisfied you are comfortable You feel his soft skin against yours, the wings on his head lightly brushing your face in reverence before he pulls them back. It isn't often he blesses you with his naked body, the vulnerability gets to him at times. 
Once you've laid down and he's pulled you close he asked one more question.
"Beloved, are you ready to be released from hypnosis?"
"Yes"
As the words leave your lips he begins the incantation to remove his influence on your mind. 
"Oh triple faced soul, this one has completed this ones tasks and can now be freed from the shackles of my control with no burden."
Everything goes still as your senses return slowly, reacclimating you to reality. A few minutes pass of him softly stroking your head and neck while you come back to him.
"Thank you Sunday" a soft whisper conveying how grateful you are before you promptly pass out the exhaustion and relaxation hitting you full force as you melt into the bed and his arms.
"Oh my beloved, I'd do anything to see you happy and relaxed like this more often. I am grateful for all you do for me so it's only natural. I love you, so much my beloved."
He whispers to your sleeping self, pressing small kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose. Watching the small twitches at the contact makes his evening and he feels like he too can finally relax.
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rainyreading · 4 months
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If you want to (no pressure), could you do one for Theo?
The reader (girl) and Theo are friends in their sixth year and have to babysit, maybe the reader's niece or nephew.
Maybe Theo isn't good with kids and the reader helps him. You can decide all that, I'll leave that up to you.
Thank youuuuuu <3 <3
Babysitting
Theo Nott x bestfriend!sytherin!reader
wc: 1.5k
a/n: requests open
(not my gif)
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It was winter break and you were staying at Hogwarts. A lot of your friends were staying at Hogwarts for break as well. You got a letter from your sister asking if your niece could come stay with you. You wrote back and replied with a yes.
Your niece was 4 years old. She was a little ball of fire, who always kept you on your toes. You truly loved your niece and cherished any time you spent together. So you were excited that she was coming to stay with you for a little bit.
Sixth year was equally exciting. It was like you were one of the oldest kids on the grounds, witch felt good. You had amazing friends and your classes were doable. It was hard to imagine next year was gonna be your last year at Hogwarts.
You and your friends decided to have a picnic by the black lake. Everyone in your friend group was there, which you were happy about. Some elves in the kitchen helped you out with the food, so you were very grateful.
"This is nice," you began.
"Yeah it is," Draco responded.
"Makes me want to jump in the black lake," Theo said through a mouthful of bread.
"You totally would," you teased.
"Listen, I have my niece coming to visit soon and I was wondering if you guys could help out, please," you begged.
"Yeah of course," Pansy agreed.
"I'm not good with kids," Theo put out.
"I'm sure your better than you think," you reassured.
"I'm really not," Theo argued.
"Well I still need you to be there for me," you deadpanned.
"Yes mam," Theo saluted.
Eventually your group finished up being around the black lake. Everyone packed up the picnic and carried on with their day. You stayed in the Slytherin common room reading a book by the fire.
Theo came strolling in, spying you curled up on the couch. It was in Theo's nature to bother you. He was always with you and always paling around with you. You were his best friend and he'd like to think he was yours.
"Hey Y/N/N, whatcha reading?" he asked.
You flipped up the book angling it to show him the cover then said, "Pride and Prejudice."
"What's it about?" Theo asked.
"The relationship of a boy and a girl as they try to overcome the titular sins of pride and prejudice in order to fall in love and marry."
"Sounds interesting," Theo stated.
"You're not gonna let me read are you?" you sighed.
"Well when you put it like that it sounds bad, but I just want to hang out with you," Theo smiled.
"Aw you're sweet," you cooed as you ruffled his hair. Theo swatted your hands away.
"What do you suggest we do?" you questioned as you shut your book, after bookmarking it.
"Well I haven't gotten that far yet, Um I don't know we could talk, take a walk, play a prank on Filch, maybe gossip?" Theo suggested.
"Ha ha ha," you laughed.
"You want to gossip?" You were surprised.
"I mean if you want to yeah," Theo shrugged.
"Well I just happen to know Draco asked out Astoria but she turned him down. And he was all like "I'm not taking no for an answer," but she said no. He told me he's not gonna give up though," you explained.
"I bet they will end up together, they would be good together," Theo replied.
"I herd Pansy got a F on her potion essay." Theo shared.
"Oh my god no way really?" You put a hand over your mouth.
"Yep. She was pissed," Theo responded.
"I bet."
"Blaise told me he likes Luna like a lot," Theo began.
"Wait what that's crazy. I never would of guessed," you stated shocked.
"Yeah I know right!"
"What are you two crazy kids up to?" Pansy saunters in and takes a seat next to you on the couch.
"Nothing much, just talking," you say.
"Oh well I hope it's about me," she flips her hair.
"Of course Pans," you laugh.
The three of you all chatted for a while, talking about the break. How excited you were to have time off from classes. The three of you were enjoying the break and being able to be carefree.
——————
The next day you woke up early. Your niece was coming today. You were a little bit nervous and anxious to see how she would get along with your friends. She was adorable though so you knew your friends would love her.
You went to the gate to pick up your niece and she was already there waiting for you. You were excited because you haven't seen her in a long while. You quickly embraced her after you said hellos.
"I've missed you Evie," you greeted.
"Missed you too," Evie responded.
"Come on let's walk to the castle and you can tell me what you have been up too."
Evie told you about her days and how happy she was to be visiting you. She told you about her mom, your sister and she told you about her friends in preschool.
When you got back to the castle you wanted to introduce your friends to your niece. You wanted everything to go smoothly so you secretly prayed it would.
You assumed everyone was in the common room. You made your way to the Slytherin common room with your niece. When you arrived all your friends were sprawled out on the couches and by the fire.
They all looked at your direction when you entered.
"Hi guys. I want you to meet Evie. Evie this is everyone. Everyone this is Evie." You gestured to the group and to Evie.
"Hi Evie it's nice to meet you, I'm Pansy and that's Draco," Pansy spoke up.
Evie waved to both of them.
"Hi Im Blaise," Blaise greeted.
"Hi," Evie whispered.
"And this is Teddy," you introduced.
"Teddy? Hi Teddy!" Evie is exclaimed.
"Hi little one," Theo addressed.
Evie came over to Theo and looked at him curiously. Theo smiled at her. She then reached out her hand and then stopped.
"Can I touch your hair?" she asked.
"Um sure," Theo replied.
Evie touched Theo's hair and then she giggled.
"It's so fluffy!" She laughed.
Theo gave you a look that said "what do I do?" You laughed at his lack of being around children.
"Give her a high five"' you suggested.
Theo raised his hand and said, "High five!"
Evie grinned and slapped her hand on Theo's. Evie took a liking to Theo and you could tell fairly quickly. Evie was one of your favorite family members and you were glad she liked your friends.
"Do you want to take a walk with me?" Theo asked.
"Yeah!" Evie answered.
Pansy, Blaise and Draco decided to stay in the common room. You, Theo, and Evie decided to roam the castle grounds. Evie was a bundle of energy.
"Could I have a piggy back ride Teddy?" Evie asked.
Theo looked to you for approval which you granted.
"Yeah of course," he allowed.
Evie jumped on his back and threw her arms around his neck. Theo grabbed ahold of her legs and shifted her up a little bit.
"Giddy Up horsey!" Evie called out.
Theo laughed and started to run. Evie yelled "weeeeee!" You started to catch up with them happy that Evie was having so much fun. Theo stopped at the top of a grassy hill.
"Can we roll down the hill?" Evie questioned.
"I don't see why not," you shrugged.
"Teddy go first," Evie pushed Theo on the back, urging him to roll down the hill first.
"Ok ok ok I'm going," Theo rushed out.
Theo laid down and then turned around to begin rolling down the hill. You started laughing as he speeded down the hill.
"Your turn Auntie!" Evie insisted.
"Alright settle down I'm going I'm going," you responded.
You got down on the ground and rolled down the hill. You ended down by Theo's feet and he helped you up.
"Come on Evie, tumble on down," you called.
"You guys ready?" Evie asked.
"Yes!" You and Theo both answered.
Evie came tumbling down giggling and getting covered in grass. You applauded her when she reached the end of the hill. She was beaming. Theo also joined in and clapped for her. Evie took a bow.
Eventually you all went back to the castle chatting about anything and everything. Evie held your hand and Theo's hand as she walked in the middle of you guys.
When you guys returned back to the common room Evie was tired and wanted to take a nap. You were so excited that Theo and Evie were getting along you didn't notice that Evie fell asleep on Theo's lap.
"Are you ok?" You mouthed to Theo.
"Yeah she's fine right here," he whispered.
It made your heart melt at the sight. You were thankful for Theo's help today and hoped that Evie had fun today, you certainly did. You hoped the three of you could hang out more and more. You watched as Evie slept completely content resting on Theo.
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hobiebrownbrowser · 11 months
Text
Constant Arguments
I know there is a lot of angst like this going on but for some odd reason it just feels right to make. I feel as if 42 Miles won't be as affectionate then others make him appear to be. NO HATE ON THEM. I love reading them.
I feel like he'll still have a somewhat cold demeanor. I haven't seen many where Y/N doesn't really care that Miles is The Prowler. Just needing him by her side more than anything was a blessing in her honor.
Earth 42 Miles Morales x FEM!Reader
Context: Angst, fluff, sadness, Mild cussing, happy ending
Translations: 'blame google if they aren't correct' 💀
"¿Por qué no puedes decírmelo? = "Why can't you tell me?"
Necesitamos hablar mami. = We need to talk mommy.
"Quítate de mi camino Miles." = Get out of my way Miles.
summary: Y/N doesn't give a shit if Miles is The Prowler.
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"¿Por qué no puedes decírmelo? You avoid my calls, my texts, everytime I try to talk to you! You act like I'm not even 'ere!" It felt like a train hit her when Miles didn't respond, Breaking the eye contact they held for so long. Y/N just rolled her eyes, fed up with a relationship that clearly wasn't working.
"When you wanna talk, hit me up Hombre, other than that you can leave." Y/N shook her head, grabbing her book bag off the floor and walking towards their shared room.
She was acting like this because he wanted to disappear for more than a whole ass week. Ignoring her, leaving his own girlfriend on read when she was worried sick for him. Only think he had to say was "he was busy." Apparently it was more important than she'll ever be.
Slamming the door once she got inside just to feel tears swell in her eyes. Everything was frustrating her, constant arguments, school. The girl was overstimulated to say the least. Her back pushed up against the wall as she attempts to calm herself down with shallow deep breaths.
It felt like everything she worked for was against her. The man she loves not giving her the care she needs to pull through with all of this shit. Her family pressuring her to do a good job in school.
She just wanted to settle down on a peaceful path, but that seemed to redeem to much in her life. Having to work two jobs day and night was a struggle and Miles knew that. Yet he still did what he said he wasn't going to do.
Leaving her when she was the most vulnerable. She felt as if she wasn't valuable in his life at all. Wanting to cut off the one thing that used to make her life better.
But oh how she loves Miles. At the same time she wanted to apologize, pull him in a strong embrace. But she knew in the end he'd do the same thing. Disappear on her for decades on end.
The last string she held onto snapping just from his cold words. The silence was preposterous yet it kept her in a safe haven, able to run away from her problems just like now.
Taking a few more deep breaths and finally getting up off the dirty floor. She needed something to occupy her mind with, scrolling through her phone just to look at good memories.
She needed to wind down, Wanting to just drop out of school and cut off anyone she thought she knew well. She needed to breathe in this already suffocating air. The man on the other side probably long gone and out the door.
She was right, his figure not on the couch any longer than it should be. She wiped her face before stepping out. Going into the kitchen and grabbing a tub of ice cream before heading back into her confined space.
"Princesa." She cursed under her breath. Hearing his soft genuine sweet voice call her by her nickname. The real question was why was he still here. Turning around to be met with dead eyes. It was funny. They'd been together for a year, yet he looks at her the same way he looked at others.
She simply ignored him. Grabbing a spoon from a drawer and trying to push past the firm man.
"quítate de mi camino Miles." He didn't budge, doing the complete opposite infact. Blocking the exit with his body, She threatened to climb over the table if he didn't.
"Necesitamos hablar mami." He simply just tilted his head, A serious look plastered on his face.
"Oh now you wanna talk, ain't your job more important than me?" She got him right there. Miles eyes avoiding her's before looking back up, his chest withhelding big sigh. He wasn't gonna lie because he knew it was. She wasn't in his shoes. She wasn't constantly having to kill people for money.
No. He wanted her to sit still and be the most cherishing thing he had left besides his madre and his uncle. He was in a stressful predicament. How the hell was he supposed to tell his future wife that he was 'The Prowler'?
Miles was stomped, Looking the love of his life in her eyes before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. The look of confusion on her face as he told her.
Miles watched as she rubbed her temples, her eyes narrowing down to nothing but disappointment. It all made sense now. Why she'd wake up to an empty bed in the middle of the night. The window sometimes left open on countless nights.
He'd even shown her the exact suit he'd killed in, leading her to a small hidden room she didn't even know they had in the first place. She poked her head in which Miles found a bit cute, Taking it out and putting it on like it was nothing but clothing.
You let out a deep sigh before saying what was on your own mind.
"Miles I don't give a shit that you're The Prowler. I just wanted you to tell me." A sigh of relief left Mile's throat. Apologizing to his chica before pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her soft plump lips.
"I'm sorry for not tellin' you sooner Hermosa."
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Part 2 here 💜
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