#Problem is I can't always find translations

[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[elitekook]

04:25AM

• pairing: jungkook x f!reader; established relationship

• warnings: fluff fluff fluff, cursing, making out, suggestive jokes(?), jungkook has two hoop piercings in his mouth (this is a warning in itself), they are so in love for each other

• word count: 653 (this has not been reviewed!)

One of things to date jungkook is always to be prepared to go out with him, most of time in the dawn. Anyone who knows jungkook knows very well that he can turn day into night and that's not a problem for you, far from it, getting up early with jungkook is one of your favorite things in the world to do.

"Oh, they got new flavors of ramen" he says as he browses the shelves analyzing what might be the best late-night snack flavors.

"Don't you think we should choose something else instead? I mean ramen is good but we should change the menu every now and then" you answer quietly, concentrating on holding the basket with the other things your boyfriend has already picked out.

"But the spicy ones are so good, I'd like to try the one with the extra cheese, it looks good" ignoring what you just said, jungkook places the bag of ramen into the basket as you roll your eyes in response with a smile knowing you couldn't go against his childish tastes.

After picking up all the sodium-laden snacks that jungkook couldn't pass up, you focus on seeing which drinks would be best for the occasion. That is until you feel a pair of hands circle your waist and a head land on your shoulder.

"Your ass looked way too nice from this angle and I wouldn't want the cashier looking too much." before you could answer you notice jungkook's arms tighten a little more a kiss is deposited on your neck.

jungkook always says that the cashier at this convenience is "too nice" to you, which you know, but you can't help but laugh every time he's jealous of a guy who absolutely not your type.

"Do you really think he has an eye on me? he's almost asleep in his own drool" turning to hand the basket to jungkook to hold, you chuckle at the grimace your boyfriend makes as he bites his lip piercings, a habit you find attractive.

"I don't care, this guy should have known you haven't been available for a long time" the low tone of jungkook's voice and his arm wrapping around your waist again is enough to feel your lips being captured by his.

kissing jungkook is always the same feeling as when you first kissed, the thrill of feeling the familiar butterflies in your stomach every time and be as happy to know that you are his as he is yours. Maybe that's what being in love is all about.

Feeling his tongue roll across yours, you can't help but wrap your arms around his neck and pull the strands at the back of his neck. If you could describe heaven, it would definitely be like kissing jungkook.

"fuck, i really love your mouth" jungkook whispers still with his lips close to yours not missing the opportunity to leave a peck before pulling away.

"I know" is all you say before grabbing any drink, no longer bothering to see which one would go best with ramen.

You can't get let laugh just as jungkook places the basket on top of the counter, which ends up scaring the cashier who was actually sleeping in his own drool.

"Maybe we could watch a movie when we get home" you hear jungkook say as you focus on the beeping of the products.

"We should sleep after we eat"

"Why? it's still early" you look at your boyfriend who is smiling and giggling knowing if he wanted to he could make you stay up longer.

"You're a pain in the ass" you also know he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.

"You don't think I'm a pain in the ass when we're home" and that's enough to tell your boyfriend to shut up before that the conversation gets too intimate in front of the cashier.

•this is an original work by @elitekook, please do not copy, translate or anything like that :)

[angelltheninth]

Perhaps you could write about how they would react if Y/N was bitten/stung by a breeding spider?. Yes, that's right, reproduction baby hehe. I don't care what the character's gender is. Would it be possible to describe the headcanons?👉🏻👈🏻

(I already apologize for the spelling mistakes, I'm using the translator :D)

Spiderverse🙏🏻

Oh fun, breeding kink is always fun.

Pairing: Ben Reilly, Peter B. Parker, Miguel O'Hara, Noir x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, feral sex, creampie, pregnancy mention, dirty talk, wall sex, rooftop sex, kind of sex pollen, pheromones

A/N: Added Ben this time around, I think I might include him in some other future stuff too.

Ben doesn't want to take advantage of you when you come on to him and tell him about your problem. He also can't deny that he's very, very horny for you. Despite it not being a good idea he can't have you go home like this, he can't have you swinging in between buildings in such a state. But he needs to make sure you want this. Yanking his pants down and sucking his cock because you were so needy for cum is a good argument. The issue is you don't just need to taste him to make this go away, you also need to feel him inside you.

"You really want it? Are you sure, I need to know. I know its hard to talk while you're sucking on my dick but I need to be sure before we go any further. Baby, you know I want you, I want to tear that suit off your body and fill you with cum but I need you to say that you need me to do it. Hah, I'm not teasing you I promise."

Peter is hesitant because you're currently on a rooftop together and you can't seem to move an inch without moaning. He can't leave you here and he can carry you because he knows the moment he touches you he won't be able to resist your charms. You don't want him to resist, you don't care that he's a hero and you a civilian, you need his cock and you need it now, you need his cum inside you, you need him to breed you right now. All this talk of breeding has his senses going haywire, his hands desperately finding your ass as you drop your pants and offer him your pussy, which he sinfully takes.

"I know you're scared right now, you don't know what's happening to you, but I promise I'll help. I'm here for you sweetheart. Ah, your pussy feels good around my cock, a wet mess and I just put it in. You won't last long, I know you won't but don't worry, just need to get some cum in that cunt and you'll be good as new won't you?"

Miguel can't resist the pull the pheromones have on him. He's pinning you against the nearest wall, kissing you, teeth scraping against your neck as he tells you he needs you just as much as you need him right now. The feeling is mutual, and the pleasure will be too. Let him take these suits off and he'll give you what you crave. His cock and cum, to have his babies right? He knows, you can't your desires from him because they're his desires too. They have been ever since you started working together.

"Fill you up, I'll fill that pussy up with so much cum you'll be pregnant in to time. Such a good hole, taking me so eagerly. Are you sure this is due to the spider bite? I think... fuck... I think you're not being honest here. You'd want me regardless, I've seen how you look at me. I know this is a bit backwards but after this let me take you on a date hum? Prove to you I mean this, that you're not just a warm hole to be fucked."

Noir doesn't want to risk your professional relationship by having sex with you in a deluded state of mind. He tries to give you space while also being close to you in case of real danger but you quickly make your way onto his lap, saying how you don't need any space between you two, in fact it'd be better if there was none at all. He curses his judgement as he pushes you to the floor, rutting his clothed hard cock against your pussy almost animalistically. He hates that he's letting his desires take over his rational part of mind but he can't lie to himself, he wants to see what you look like when you're painted white.

"What have you... I can't think about anything but your pussy. Shit, I need you, fucking need to feel you, see you taking my dick. You look beautiful when you're rolling your hips into me, your mind is mush right now isn't it? This will help, I think. If you... I promise you I'm not the kind of man to run from my actions, I'll take responsibility for this, weather you be pregnant after or not."

[genderkoolaid]

hey i was wondering something and i wanted to know your opinion on it

Why is it problematic to say i hate men but not white people or straight people

(i'm a trans south east asian man btw)

I'd say on, like, a casual exasperated level, its not problematic to say "I hate [x]." It gets problematic when your venting about a group becomes your sole lens of viewing + interacting with that group.

Like, its entirely alright to be frustrated with behaviors common to cishet white men and express that in a vent by saying you hate them. But... its like how people make the correct point that they shouldn't be expected or obligated to give all their energy to coddling people with power over them, but translate that into "i never have to care about a member of this group at all" which directly conflicts with just. being in a community? Like women should not be expected to be caretakers for men, but people in a community need to take care of each other. When the only way you engage with a group of people is by expressing hatred and asserting how much you aren't obligated to care about them, its easier than people think to find yourself dehumanizing them.

Which does not mean "you are just as bad as a racist/misogynist" or "you are oppressing them"; you are An Individual whose biases are not necessarily backed up by powerful systemic powers. But, for one, its very easy for those biases to be used by systemic forces: with men, misandry is very easily used to justify all kinds of violence towards marginalized men & people perceived as men. You also have situations where people will say the Holocaust "wasn't as bad" as, say, US slavery, because it was "white on white violence," or saying the Armenian genocide also wasn't that big of a deal because "it was done to Christians and Christians are always killing people" (two real things I have seen been said). And, again: if you are going to care about community and restorative/transformative justice and all that, you need to be able to give a shit about all kinds of people who you live with. You need to be able to see them as whole beings you are capable of connecting with on some level. You don't personally need to date or befriend men, but you do need to be able to give a shit about men in your community.

Its fine to feel annoyance and anger and use "hatred" to express that. But the problem occurs when people take "its okay to be angry with your oppressors and not spend all your energy coddling them" and make that the end-all be-all of their relationship with people of whatever group; revolutions can't accomplish compassionate goals when they are run on hatred. Very hooksian concept but "love" (as in "a combination of care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect and trust", not in a strictly emotional sense but as an action) is a skill that is as vital as understanding class dynamics and protest tactics. Maybe you don't need to love everyone, but try to have the capacity to love anyone; the ability to physically care for someone you don't emotionally like is, I think, a vital step towards truly challenging and bringing down the kyriarchy.

Basically its about recognizing when your venting stops being an outlet and starts being a way for unproductive feelings to shape how you view other people.

[writingforstraykids]

Pls share your soft thoughts for Felix!!

Oh Lix, I do have some soft thoughts on him. Also thank you to @zehina and @atinyniki for sharing some ideas🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix thrives on skin contact, he'd stay right in your arms forever if he could. If you're comfortable with long hugs, subtle touches, holding his hand, or playing with his hair, then you become the source of his energy. He comes to you when he needs to recharge. He hugs you tight, plants himself on top of you, or holds your hand for hours. It doesn't really matter as long as he can feel your presence, your body warm against his.

If none of you is on a diet, he'll shower you with tasty goods. He can't stop spoiling you by baking all sorts of things you love so much. He has accepted his fate, getting called "Brownie boy" by you whenever he ends up in the kitchen baking. Felix knows how much you love those brownies and cookies, so of course, he always keeps some around. What's even better is if you join him, helping him mix the batter and making a mess with him between giggles and playful fights.

Felix is an enthusiastic gamer. The first time you ask him to play with him, he is over the moon for you. He shows you the basics and thinks you're even sweeter than before. If you don't feel like playing yourself, he enjoys keeping you in his lap, claiming you're his lucky charm. He might've cried a little when you offered to help him build his own equipment.

Lix's soft soul is something that needs to be protected, and he hasn't met many people who are as protective of him as you are. He lets you in, allows himself to be open about his feelings with you, and knows you'd never judge him for anything. You're his safe place when he feels like everything is crumbling down around him.

Felix's smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The way his freckles seem to crawl up into his eyes, illuminating them like stars painting the night sky, steals your breath every time. He's so genuine and easily smiling whenever he watches you doing the most basic things, it makes you swoon.

Lix can get a little emotional at times, never fully believing he deserves the love he receives from his friends, fans, and especially not you. Whenever those big, soft eyes fill with tears, he comes to you, gently tugging at your sleeve and curling up in your arms without any further explanation. He doesn't have to because you already know.

That is why whenever you're upset or feel undeserving of love, his heart breaks with yours. He pulls you into his arms, kisses your hair and fondles your head, gently rocking you in his arms. He whispers little secrets and sweet nothings into your ear, trying to show you how much you mean to him. He knows he isn't the problem here, but it wrecks him thinking you'd even consider him not loving you.

You're in love with that stunning face and Lix knows it. It hasn't happened only once you've made him sit on the counter to do his makeup. You love those little moments, accentuating your boyfriend's natural beauty like that. He loves letting you paint his lips, adorn his eyes with glittery eyeshadow or go wild with little stick-on gems below his eyes. You always wear such a happy smile on your face he would never deny you these small moments.

Lix loves shopping with you, since he obviously wants to look his best for you and spoil you at the same time. So buying new fits together is always fun. He gets to know your taste in clothing better and sometimes you surprise him with a color or piece of clothing he would've never thought of wearing before. The joy in your eyes when you find something for him makes him melt into a puddle right there.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

[buckyhad]

Teaching time

Pairing: Boyfriend!Max Verstappen x reader x Bestfriend!Charles Leclerc

Summary: Where Charles is your bestfriend,and teach Max,your boyfriend how to fuck you.

Warnings: oral (f), alcohol, google translated french and dutch, idk what else

Charles was looking for a movie to watch for what felt like an hour, your mood not being the best this days, you started to get frustrated with your best friend.

"God, Charlie, choose one already" you barked.

"Gid chirlii" He mocked you. "Why are you in such a mood lately?" He asked then.

"I don't know what you are talking about"

"Yes you do" he laughed "I know you very well, now tell me" you always loved Charles' accent, and hearing it sothed your mood a little.

"I can't tell you" you mumbled.

Charles let it be, being your best friend for ages now, he knew that you would cometo him later.

You friendship with him went through all the phases, friends, best-friends, friends with benefits, back to best-friends when Max, one of his friends, told him how much he liked you.

Max, your now boyfriend was the sweetest man ever, hot, caring, loving, funny, think of something good, the guy has it.

But God, he wasn't the best in bed, you really wanted to cry, tore beetwen hurting his feelings or not cuming for what felt like an eternity.

"Chaaarlesss" a very drunk Max slumped next to him on the couch.

"Maaaaxx" an ecually drunk Charles answered.

"Im so fuck mate"

"What happend?" He answered fast, the guy loved to gossip of course, but he also knew it has something to do with your mood.

"You know that I dont doubt that she loves me a lot, but I think she's pretending her orgasms" Max said.

Charles laughed, he was drunk, it wasn't his fault that Max decided to talk about something serious when they both where that drunk.

"Im so sorry mate, no more laughing" he stoped when he saw Max's face. "Why would you think that?"

"You saw how grumpy she is, why do you doubt me" he covered his face "Stop laughing mate, I feel you shaking" he growled.

"Did you talk to her?"

"Don't know how, what if she isn't and I make her feel bad?"

"Charles?" Max looked up to find that he was alone "Great"

Fifteen minutes later, Charles was back with you by his side, probably as drunk as them.

"My loove" you smiled, sitting on Max's lap.

"Max said you can't cum when you fuck"

"Charlie!" "Mate!" You two talked at the same time.

"What? Im trying to solve a problem here" he shrugged.

You paused for a moment, what better time to have a serious conversation than while drunk?

"I'm sorry Max, you're right" you faced him "I didn't want to hurt your feelings"

"I'm the one whos sorry love, I just don't know how" he answered with his face burning red, having a intimate talk while Charles was looking at them wasn't in his plans for the night.

"Charles go away" Max whined.

"No! I helped, I wanna listen"

"God, you're the biggest gossip I know"

"But you are also friends with Pierre?" He asked confused "I just wanna help you two" he pouted.

"How could you help us?" You asked while laughing.

"I don't know" Charles shrugged "I just cant stand you with this mood".

"Hey!" You said hitting his arm while laughing.

"Wait" Max said "He can teach me!"

"What?!" "I'm a great teacher, you know"

"No way, no fucking way"

"Why not? You've already fuck him, he knows you, he knows me, we can cross threesome from our list, it's perfect!"

"You are really drunk Maxi" you said "You will regret saying that tomorrow"

Max, in fact, didn't regret it, and after some talking and setting some bounderies, there you were, Charles, Max and you in your bed.

"This is fucking crazy, I hope you know this" you said to your boyfriend

"And you like it" he shrugged.

"I like it too" Charles said.

"You are even crazier than him".

"Why chèrie? Because I can make you cum?" Charles murmured while getting closer to your lips "It's that it?" He said nuzzling his nose agains your neck "Come here Max, kiss her" he got away from you.

Your boyfriend did was he was told, kissing you fiercely. Placing his big hand in your thight and giving a squeeze, earning a quiet moan.

"Go to her neck now, slow" Charles commanded .

You started to lay down, with the dutch on top of you and the monegasque watching.

"Open more your legs love" Max said in between kisses and peeling off your summer dress.

"Kiss your way down" your bestfriend couldn't take his eyes of yours.

Max started his trail down to your breast, taking your bra so he could suck on your breast.

"Fuck, you're so pretty my love" he said making you moan.

"More Maxi, please" you whined, you didn't need that much preparation, having him and Charles watching you was enough. He continued his way down, hooking his thumbs on your panties, pulling it down your legs, and throwing it somewhere in the room.

"Bite her thights".

Max earned a loud gasp from you after that, and your hand tucking his hair.

"Please" you whined.

"Please what love?"

"Eat me out, please" he started with a light kiss, that made you grunt and open more your legs, and then he finally licked your pussy, making you cry out "Fuck, feels so good".

"Mate" Charles whined "Can I touch her, please" he beg watching you.

"Yes please, I want him too"

Max looked up to you, nooding his head, and that was enough for Charles to kiss you. He was hungry, missing being with you wherever he wanted.

"Fuck, i've miss this" he whispered while entering a finger in you, Max just kept licking you.

"It's too much" you cried.

"I know you can take it love" the blonde said, watching your abs start to contract and your legs shaking.

Some more thrusts from Charles' fingers and some flicking of Max tongue, you came.

"God you look so hot like that" Charles growled.

"Can't believe I've been missing this view".

"Our turn now, chèrie".

A/N: finally, here it is, enjoy. Happy almost spain gp!

[vintagexherry]

Child's Play [8][Finale]

Part 7 here

//NSFW, First Times, Bit of Blood, Oral, Bit of Crying,Bullying, Fingering,Implied Non Con,Manipulation, Dubious consent, Threating, Forced Intimacy.

A/N: I used google translate for the spanish so im sorry if theres mistakes.

Previously

"Mmmm, you taste better than I imagine."

You didn't care anymore.Your tired body slowly succumbs to sleep while Miguel once again hugged you against him.

With that you both fell asleep.

Once you woken up, Miguel wasn't beside you.

You looked at the clock at the nightstand seeing that it's ten-forty five in the morning, you can't help but feel surprised you woke yourself up this early.

While you notice Miguel wasn't beside you, you took the time to mentally prepare yourself for what this day to come.

First, you gotta get ready and unpack your dorm.

Second, you gotta meet up again with Miguel's mom, who's probably making breakfast since you hear sizziling downstairs.

...

You rack your brain for more but you gave up.

But curse your brain for thinking, you suddenly remembered last night, which made you abruptly sit up straight.

As you did, your eyes fell upon the panties on the floor.

Your panties.

Teared in half.

What a way to start your day.

You sighed deeply, remembeing Miguel's way to "relax" you.

How could you ever enjoy that.

Your head was filled thoughts but was cut out when you hear small scratching noises outside.

Curiosity got the best of you and you opened the door.

You were greeted with Lyla meowing at you as if to say good morning.

Atleast there's one thing you could smile upon this day.

You crouched down to pet her which she happily accepted.

After some moments, you gathered your bearings, and washed your face and head downstairs.

As you head down even further, you smell the breakfast and you hear your stomach growling.

Not only your stomach but seems to be the voices of Miguel and Mrs. O'Hara.

"....Ya sabes como es tu papá, trabaja allá, trabaja aquí. Pero aparte de eso, ¿por qué no la llamas abajo? La comida está lista." (....You know how your dad is, work there, work here. But that aside, why don't you call her downstairs, food is ready.)

You hear Mrs. O'Hara speak and Miguel's footsteps approaching the stairs.

But he stops mid way as he already sees you go down.

"Oh! Good morning Y/N" Miguel said with a light smile.

"Uh...Goo-" You were interrupted when Mrs.O'Hara beamed at you.

"Oh, mija! You're already awake! Look at how pretty you are in that sleepdress, I knew I made the right choice,well then vamonos, I made Hueves Rancheros." (Let's go) She said as she went back to the kitchen.

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Breakfast went without a problem, aside from Conchanta teasing the both of you, saying that maybe the two of you did something last night.

You couldn't find the heart to look at her.

While you get prepared to go outside, Miguel is in his car waiting for you.

You then thought about where you are gonna stay since your gonna clean up your dorm.

You remember a friend saying that she's gonna have her own apartment and if you want, you could stay with her.

You go outside and head straight to Miguel's car.

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Car rides are always silent with Miguel.

You don't have the energy to fill it up, considering what he did last night.

Your thoughts then drive back to Steven.

You don't have the energy to deal with that right now.

What will you do once you see him?

Pretend everything is fine?

You inwardly groan at that thought. Forget it if you actually did see him. Will Miguel even let you speak to him?

While Miguel drives, he keeps glancing at you.

He remembers trying to hold back from hugging you again when he sees you with your morning bed hair.

The way you felt around his finger last night was unforgettable, it couldn't compare to any girl he fucked with.

He shook his head out from those thoughts.

He can't have a boner early in the morning right now.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Miguel insisted on helping you unpack your dorm.

You tried denying him, but he had already moved past your form and into your room.

While unpacking your clothes, he goes around the place like he owns it and decides to unpack your study table instead.

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Time passes by quickly when your busy with your own thoughts.

Miguel tries to fill the silence with small commentary but for the most part you ignore him.

While Miguel turns on his car, you quickly notify him about moving to your friend's apartment, but he has other ideas.

"No."

"I-... Miguel, what do you mean 'no'? I can't just stay with you until graduation." You fought back.

"You're a smart person, no means no, plus my mom already likes you a lot, don't even worry about after graduation too. I talked to my dad, and I already made you intern in Alchemax." He finishes while he starts to drive.

He can't do this.

He can't just plan your life ahead without your permission.

But then again, when was the last time he did ask for your permission.

"Look, Miguel, I really can't, I want to stay with my friend I-"

"After all that my mom gave you, you're just gonna leave like that?" he interrupted.

"What- no, This isn't about her, I am thankful for what she did but I-"

"Then don't leave." He said as if he's trying you to convince you not to go to another country.

"Listen to me, Miguel...I don't feel safe when you're around, and I'm sure you know why, so for the last time, bring me to my friend."

Miguel inhales and grips the wheel tightly.

"And how bout you listen to me, Y/N. I already planned ahead, so your pretty little head won't think so much. A little gratitude would be nice."

"A thank you? Is that what you want? After all the scenarios you force me into and you want a little gratitude?" He better be thankful instead that he's driving or you might as well claw his eyes out.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"We'll talk later." He said firmly as he parks the car, You didn't even notice you arrived.

A week has passed, and everyone you knew was preparing for graduation that's about to commence in two days. You already have your toga and everything. You admit that you feel happy you came this far despite everything, but there's one more thing.

You tried talking to Miguel about moving with your friend again, but all he did was pull your hair roughly to his face and threaten that if you speak a word about that again, he can make you not graduate.

You tried fighting back, but his grip on your hair is frighteningly strong.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Two days have passed, and here you are with Mrs. O'Hara, she insisted she wanted to curl your hair and style your makeup a bit before all of you went to the venue.

Before all of you left, Conchanta wanted to take a picture of both you and Miguel and you forced a smile if it meant seeing her this happy.

The three of you arrived in the venue packed with parents,students and staff alike.

While teachers and staffs make their speeches, you were busy trying to look for Steven in the crowd of students.

Lo and behold, you did.

You wanted to wave at him, but he was too far away for you to notice.

You decided to do it later.

You got up the stage and got your reward and handshake and Mrs. O'Hara is taking a picture of you..

Before you knew it, everyone was hugging each other with tears streaming down and smiles on their faces.

You, though, were busy looking for Steven.

While Miguel is busy with talking to his own friends, you want to talk to your own.

Finally, you saw Steven, and without a second thought, you pulled him aside.

"Y-Y/N?"

"Steven!" You smiled while you hugged him as if he's gonna disappear in a flash.

Steven can't help but hug back even tighter.

"Ma-mate, I thought you died or something, not t-that you did but, you know."

You didn't do anything to stop his rambles but still continued hugging him.

But suddenly he pulled away.

"Wa-wait...No I can't."

Confused, you look at Steven for awnsers.

"Steven?"

"Look I...I think it's best for us not to talk...This wasn't about what happened during prom mate, It's just, your gonna hate me for hiding this from you but Miguel texted me a few days back...Well text isn't really a right term but more like demanded me to leave you or your future career will be jeopardised." Steven said as he tried not to break down.

You paused, collecting in what he just said.

Miguel really plans ahead, does he?

"Steven, I-""

You tried to reason with Steven more but it just seems like he wants to avoid it.

He has mentioned Miguel promising your safety anyway if Steven leaves you alone.

You tried convincing him that it isn't all that sunshine and rainbows.

But Steven couldn't do anything, instead he hugged you.

You froze.

Your head stopped thinking. All you could do was hug back.

Althought,It didn't last long since the next thing you knew is hearing someone's voice.

"You two done? Didn't I tell you to leave her?"

If looks could kill both, you and Steven would evaporate on the spot, considering how he was staring down at you.

You tried saying something, but a hand gripped your forearm tightly and pulled you away from Steven.

"Miguel! Let me go!" You tried wiggling your arm away from his grip, but he just tightened it futher.

He didn't spare any more second with Steven since he started leading you back to where his mom was waiting for the both of you to take pictures together.

Steven stood there, alone.

His body fills with regret as he watches you walk away.

But he remembers Miguel's words, the threats of what he can do to your body, or your career, or even your life. It scares him. He can never forgive himself for doing this, but he has high hopes that you will be safer.

Even if that meant him being away from you.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

A month has passed since then.

Miguel kept himself to his words that you and him are gonna work together.

You got your dream job being a geneticist, but is it really a dream if you're working with a man that plagues your nightmares?

After a week of your graduation, Miguel's father came back from a business trip and has talked with his son about you.

Miguel's father seemed to approve of you, so much for Miguel's delight.

Life with Miguel isn't always the prettiest but it gotten easier.

It took you several weeks to assure you that he won't hurt you, physically speaking.

Miguel and you lived with his mom and dad until Miguel surprised you with a private residence few blocks away from Alchemax.

He said it was a gift from his father to the both of you.

The private residence can fit two people or more. The backyard has a lot of space and even a pool.

The kitchen is an island type, with a sliding door that leads to a garden where you can freshly pluck vegetables and herbs.

You go upstairs and see each bedroom and guestrooms.

You can admit your in awe.

Rich people, you swear, can buy anything and won't even leave a dent in their wallet.

"I take it that you like it?"

Frick, you were busy exploring, you forgot Miguel's existance.

"I'd say it...Alright." You say monotously as you admire the bedroom, especially the walk-in closet.

Miguel chuckles as he knows the truth, especially the way you look at awe at everything.

This just proves that Miguel is perfect for you. Seeing that he can provide and impress you.

That reminds him, you two were getting risky and riskier the more you spend time with each other.

He started touching you more and more, he knows that you don't like it, fully aware of it even. But does he care?

No.

One time, he hugged you, and you tried pushing him off, but he just pushed you further into the bed and teared your underwear in half before diving a finger in.

A few days have passed from that, and he could still smell you from his finger.

Another time, you were feeling out of it, the reality of you spending your life with Miguel processed in, and you felt nothing but dead inside.

While laying in bed and contemplating your life. He removed your underwear. You tried pushing him off and telling him you weren't in the mood for it yet.

But he just swat your arm away and dived his mouth to your slit, licking every part that he can, sucking your clit with vigour and putting a finger in while doing so.

You tried holding your moans and gasps, but it was fruitless.

Months pass since then, and here you are admiring the cabinets and drawers your walk-in closet could offer.

He looked away from a bit and drifted his attention to the bed.

He suddenly remembered a superstition he heard from his mom talking to his tias.

Something about red underwear being a sole bringer of love. He used to think it's absurb, after all adults will believe any superstition they could come across to.

But now that he thinks about it.

....

....

He wonders what underwear you're wearing now.

Before he could ponder even more, he heard the doorbell rang, and it seemed like the movers arrived.

He goes to answer the door, ignoring his lustful thoughts.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Two months passed, and both you and Miguel got busy decorating,arranging, and finalizing the house.

You admit during the entire moving in day, it was therapeutic.

You can purposely ignore Miguel without being too obvious.

The garden was your favourite part, planting and watering seeds of all kinds, either be it fruit, vegetable, herbs, or just flowers.

Decorating your room was nice, too, but not with full freedom since you are dreadfully sharing with Miguel. But nonetheless, you take what you can, something you learn when you have been with Miguel for the past months.

Arranging spices and dishware in the kitchen can also be in your list of favourites, labelling spices and arranging cups to your least, and most favourites. Even filling out your double door fridge with ingredients such as fish, meat and etc. During your stay with Mrs. O'Hara, she has given the time to teach you several recipes.

In short, you were having the time of your life.

Miguel says otherwise.

He tries to convince himseld he's contented seeing you get all giddy and comfy when decorating the house. Getting all whimsy in your little garden.

But try as he might, he can't ignore his sexual desires, sue him for sure, but can he really hold himself back when you look like the way you do?

The way your eyes smile slightly widens when you see your plant sprouting one leaf, the way your eyes read over the ingredients, the way you hum while you inspect the fridge when you think he's not there.

And the way your body bends over to pick up that fallen book out of your hand.

It just reminds him of that time when you gave him your panties in the library.

He wishes he could bend you over the study table, but he can't.

He wants your first time to be special.

Honestly, he surprised himself for lasting this long without penetration, only satisfying himself with oral (which you greatly improved) and fingering.

But that isn't enough for him.

He has needs.

And he needs to fuck you on the bed.

But how can he without looking too desperate?

He thinks and thinks and thinks.

And finally, a light bulb goes on.

He has an idea.

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It was late at night. You were bathing yourself, and Miguel went out to get something.

Whatever he means by that.

Who cares since you get to be alone to what feels like forever. You can't remember the time you were fully alone since Miguel stuck with you like gorilla glue.

Your thoughts then drive to these few months.

Living with Miguel became tolerable, not lovely, just tolerable.

Getting this private place was nice too, and the old neighbour nearby seemed kind.

Being able to work as a geneticist is nice. at least you got your dream.

It seems like Steven did too, you remember seeing an article of Steven and his brothers finding a lost tomb of Alexander the Great. Atleast his happy.

You can also admit that Miguel is good at bed. Who are you kidding? Of course he is, considering the number of people he slept with.

The first time you gave him oral was a nightmare at best though.

He one day came back with a sour expression, you didn't want to ask why, fearing you could possibly make it worse.

But curiosity is a thing, so you did ask but.

Curiosity also killed the cat.

Next thing you know you were forced down to your knees with a hard thud and carpet roughly scrapping your knees.

While you try to fight back, he keeps mentioning how much you make him hold back then going on to say how selfish you are.

The next thing you knew was your mouth being forcefully opened with one hand while his other unzipped his pants and wasted no time to put his dick into your mouth.

You swore you almost vomited during that night, with his dick thrusting too deep into your mouth but you managed.

But he seemed to notice, seeing as he thursted until you could feel his cock throbbed in your throat.

He made you stay like that for a while, while tears and drool dripped down to your chest.

He looked down at you and groaned loudly at how you look attractive below him. And after headfucking moments, he finally came down your throat.

You shivered from the memory.

You got out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around you as you drain the water.

While you watch it drain, you hear the front door open and your bedroom next.

"Mi vida, where are you?" Miguel asked.

You step out of the bathroom, and in the arms of Miguel, it was a box, and with closer inspection, you felt like you had seen it before.

"Oh, there you are! Perfect timing, I was you to try this on, and don't come out of the bathroom until you do." He said as he lended the box to you leading you back to the bathroom and closed the door.

You paused for a while, and after some time, you put the box on top of the sink counter and unwrapped yourself out of the towel.

Whatever Miguel gave you, he seemed nothing but excited.

You carefully untied the ribbon.

Oh....

That's why it seems familiar...

In the box, you see lingerine, a red one.

Lacey with expensive looking embroidery, unlike you previous given lingerine, this one doesn't have a corset.

Although it still has stocking, with straps you could connect to the garterbelt.

You decided to wear it, not wanting to know what punishment you could face if you didn't.

After strapping the strap of the stocking to your underwear, you look at the mirror and surprised with what you see.

The colour compliments your skin tone, and the design seems to be made just for you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a knock on your door.

"You done yet, Mi sol?"

You took one last glance at the mirror and took a deep breath.

"Ye-Yeah! Im coming!"

You opened the bathroom door, and in front of you is Miguel sitting on the bed, frozen in place and in awe of what he sees.

He made sure the lingerine was tailored to your size, and it did your figure justice.

"U-um..."

Your voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Come here."

With a bit of hesitation, you followed his orders.

As you got closer, both of his hands didn't waste time to grab your waist to pull you closer for inspection.

His hands glide over the delicate lace and fabric. Sometimes, pulling back the straps to see it snap back in place, making you yelp in pain, he didn't feel an ounce of regret. Instead, his pants just felt tighter.

"No sé cómo me contuve después de todos estos meses..." (I dont know how I held back after all these months....)

You notice Miguel speaking under his breath. His words aren't clear enough for you to hear.

"We've spent time together for so long, mi vida....So please...Let me.." Miguel begged as he started placing light kisses on your stomach.

You know what he means, after all that oral and fingering, you know he isn't gonna be satisfied with only just that.

But your not ready.

You don't when you'll ever be ready.

Especially when it comes to him.

"Miguel....Look Im not-"

"You know I don't like repeating myself." You froze as he stopped his kisses but instead looked up to you with impatience written on his face.

Usually, you would avoid it and just follow after him.

But this is different.

"I-I know Miguel but-"

"Good, so you know what to do."

Your hands started shaking without you noticing.

You didn't know how long you've been standing there, but It seemed to get the attention of Miguel.

His hands started caressing your body even more, rubbing over your forearms, up to your back, until your legs.

That seemed to ground you a bit.

"First times are scary, hm? Don't worry, bebita, I'll be gentle."

You somehow highly doubt that.

You try to inhale and exhale, although it was shaky, it still did the job.

You still didn't say anything but Miguel took it as a cue to pull you to the bed until your completely layed down.

You can't help but feel your body tense.

This is it.

You're gonna lose your virginity to the person you hate.

Miguel, didn't waste time to get on top of you. He placed both arms between your head and admired you.

"Te ves tan hermosa el día que te conocí." (you look as beautiful the day I met you.)

You hate yourself for blushing at his words, you turned your head away to hide it.

"Aww, don't go all shy on me."

His thumb and index finger gripped your chin gently to make you face him.

His lips carressed yours in a passionate kiss, gentle yet impatient, loving but fierce.

If you're gonna lose your first time with this man, you might as well enjoy it.

You kissed back, and he couldn't hold back a small, muffled moan.

After a few seconds, he finally pulled back, both of you catching your breath.

He lifted his hands and pulled off his shirt of him. Next was his pants, leaving him in boxers.

The moonlight from the window highlighted his muscles, shadows dancing around both of you.

His hands quickly returned to caressing your body and lifted up to your chest to undo the bra.

"I should get you more of this, maybe in dark blue next, maybe even white..." He rambled as he finally took off your bra and threw it somewhere of the floor.

He leaned down to kiss your jaw, then your neck, until your collarbone where he started sucking, making sure to leave multiplr marks.

"O-oh...Miguel." You softly whined.

"Shhh....Déjame cuidarte" (Let me take care of you)

He continued trailing kisses and leaving marks until you felt his mouth on your pert nipple.

"Ah! Mig!-" Your hand automatically goes to land on his soft hair.

Your small yelps and moan continue as he sucks and slightly glides his teeth on your tits.

He lets go of your tit and does the same treatment with the other one.

You can't help but feel wetter from his actions.

You whimpered as he let's go and started trailing kisses again, leading more and more toward your region.

He lifts his head slightly to remove your panties, but not without admiring the wet spot on it, he groans at the sight.

Without further ado, he removes it and tosses it to the same place with the bra, leaving you with the garterbelt and stockings.

He didn't waste time diving to taste your slick with a big swipe of his tongue on your slit.

"Mmhm! Miguel!" Your hand gripped his hair while he continued his actions making you wet and wetter.

His own moans are muffled as he sucks on your clit.

Your moans did nothing but grew louder, making him more encouraged to put a finger in you, thrusting slowly.

You moan louder as you feel his index and middle finger curl up, hitting your spot successfully.

You suddenly feel your body tensing up more and more and you know what's coming.

"F-f-fuck, Migu-." You tried warning him, but it was too late, for the tension in your body snapped and you came.

Miguel licked and sucked more, not wanting to waste a single drop.

While you tried catching your breath, Miguel sat up and took off his boxers.

You look down and gulp. You already had experienced how hard it was to deep throat that thing. You're now nervous how your gonna take it in.

Miguel sensed your rising hesitation.

"Shhh...Its okay, its okay." He rubbed circles on your thighs and started undoing the garterbelt and removing your stockings, tossing them onto floor like everything else, leaving you completely naked.

"Respira hondo para mí, mi amor." (Deep breaths for me, my love)

You inhaled deeply, and Miguel took this chance to shove his tip into you.

You loudly yelp in pain, and your hands came around your body, and lips kissed your forehead.

"You're doing great, so great. No, no, don't cry, mi amor. You're doing great." Miguel continued reassuring you.

You didn't even notice that tears were coming down. You were too busy focusing on the harsh stretch you're experiencing. Sure, his fingers were something too, but it doesn't compare to his dick.

Minutes ticked by, and he thrusted a little more of his length in you, making you both hiss from the feeling.

"Ohhuhgg, fuck your tight.." Miguel groaned to your ear making you squirm.

You didn't want to look down, fearing how much was still isn't in you.

Few more minutes and you feel yourself loosen up more.

But Miguel is never known for patience.

He tried really, believe him but the feeling of your cunt sucking him in as if he's gonna disappear, just does things to him.

It doesn't help you're a virgin. His long, unfulfilled fantasy is finally coming true.

With that, he thrusted the rest of his length in you.

You screamed and moaned in pain, both pleasure and discomfort mixing together.

Miguel, on the other hand, moaned, his words slurred, mixing both English and Spanish together.

Your hands came gripped onto his back, and your nails scratching him, making Miguel hiss even more.

Miguel lifted himself up using his elbows to look down at you.

You couldn't get anymore beautiful can you?

Moonlight accentuated your features, your tears and sweat shine among it.

He couldn't help himself but kissed you deeply. Ingrating the taste and feeling of you.

"So good, so so good for me."

His hips started moving and he could swore you felt wetter and warmer this time.

He looked down to see the bedsheets stained with red, much deeper than your lingerine.

He finally did it.

He finally took you for himself.

You, on the other hand, can't focus much except for the pain that's blooming between your legs.

"Mig....It hurts..." You whimpered weakly.

"Shh, I know... I know, mi vida, just stay with me, yeah?" He kissed your forehead and leaned in so your foreheads were touching together, making you feel more emotional than ever.

Miguel soon felt you loosen up more and took that as a cue to thrust back and forth.

Your moans did nothing but spur him to thrust even faster.

Before you know it, his hips are slamming into you, making you both hear the wet slaps.

Miguel's grunts and your moans mix together into one, filling the room with it.

The bed creaks with the strength Miguel puts in his thrusts.

His dick reached places you didn't know existed in your making you arch your back when he continued hitting that one spot continues.

"FfUck!, Miguel, right- AH! There! Right there!"

Miguel listened as he thrusted into the spot that made you see starts.

"Te amo mucho. Dilo por favor, por favor." (Love you, so, so much. Say it, please,please)

His hips slowed down and you whimpered.

"I-I loveee you t-too" you weakly said but it was enough for Miguel.

He kissed you deeply while he thrusted faster and deeper this time making your eyes roll at the back.

Both of your bodies started feeling tense, and hips ploughed into you harder.

"Cum with me, cumwith me, cumwithme cumwithme cumwithmecumwi- SHI- FUCKING HELL, oh mierda eso es todo."

"MIIGUELL!"

The tension finally snapped as your fingers scratched harder at the back of Miguel.

Miguel couldn't careless when your cunt felt significantly tighter, milking him for all his worth.

Both your breaths are heavy. And bodies feel numb from the activities.

After catching your breath, your body feels tired, and your eyelids are weighing down.

Without knowing you felt asleep, ignoring the pain and the pleasure as you finally drifted off.

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It took a good minute for Miguel to finally gather his bearings.

He looked at you with nothing but admiration as your breath levels out while you sleep.

After a few more minutes, he cleaned you off with a damp towel and checked your body for any damages.

After confirming none major injuries, he finally lay down next to you.

He finally did it.

Got the person of his dreams.

Aside from challenges and tribulations.

He did it.

He has you in his arms all tucked in.

Took your first kiss.

Took your first time.

And finally, took you as a person.

And it felt nothing to him but Child's Play.

○●○●○●○●○●○●

A/N: We finally did it! I can't say im proud of this one tho, but thank you for those who supported me throughout the making of Child's Play.

[m00nsbaby]

The invisible barrier.

(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)

Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)

January.

"¡Hola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.

Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?

Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.

"Perdón, ¿Podrías decirme qué dice aquí?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.

"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)

The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.

"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.

Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.

"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.

You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.

He just stood still, listening.

"¿Colorante rojo número 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.

Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.

"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.

"Soy alérgico al número 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezón en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")

Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.

He was cute.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.

"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."

Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.

You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.

Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.

Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .

"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.

You almost had a heart attack.

"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.

"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.

He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.

"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.

You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.

"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.

"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.

"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.

"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.

You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.

He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.

Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.

February.

Your first date was a disaster.

You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.

Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.

That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.

When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.

"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.

He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.

He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.

"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)

March.

Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.

Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'

Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.

His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.

You enjoyed his company.

April.

Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.

He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.

"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"

"¿Ahora?" (Now?) he asked.

"Right now."

"¿Cuál palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.

"Boyfriend."

"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.

You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.

"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)

May.

"Jake?"

The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.

Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.

"No sé qué me pasó. Mi teoría es que golpee algo mientras dormía.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.

"Are you still having those strange dreams?"

"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "Sí, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)

You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.

"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.

June.

"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.

Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.

That was your Friday night.

"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.

When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.

"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.

"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me est�� poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.

"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "¿Un par de besos te tienen así, corazón?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "Imagínate como será cuando esté dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ¿No?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.

"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rápido si sigues apretándome así.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "¿Vas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "Déjame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.

July.

The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.

Jake was someone else.

His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.

There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.

He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.

But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.

You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.

Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.

August.

Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.

The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.

"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."

There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.

The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.

"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.

"Me quedé dormido anoche, perdón.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?

"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.

"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)

Damn the day you started to understand his words.

"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.

It was too much for him. Everything was too much.

"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.

"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.

With fear.

Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.

In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.

He was losing himself as he had suspected.

"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)

"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.

You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.

September.

The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.

It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.

He simply disappeared.

The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.

✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)

✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)

It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.

You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.

You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.

Make it work.

October.

"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.

A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.

"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.

"Estaba por aquí.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensé en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)

"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."

Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.

That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)

November.

Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.

Laughing, singing, existing.

As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.

You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.

"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.

He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.

"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.

"Never! Let me go!"

The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.

"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."

The seconds of silence churned his stomach.

"What?"

"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"

It almost seemed like he was begging you.

You reassured his fears with a kiss.

December.

"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.

Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.

"No puedo creer que no me estés ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, así evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)

"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.

"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"You didn't say that when..."

"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)

"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.

"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.

"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"

Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.

"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.

Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies

[mewhenimanangel]

everywhere ʚɞ miles morales

pairing: 42!miles morales x reader

synopsis: miles finally asks to take you out.

wc: 2.3k

warnings!: swearing, kissing, making out, google translate spanish

prev ʚɞ

it'd been a week since miles invited you over and thanks to him, you got your grade up. the week had been full of flirting, whispering and laughing during class, texting all the time, him and his friend joined your table at lunch, and him finding any excuse to touch you.

in physics he kept his knee touched against yours, he would "drop" a pencil or whatever so he could hold your thigh using it to support himself while reaching for it. when he sat behind you in math, you would feel him touching your curls or your shoulder every now and then. when you would pass a paper back to him his fingers always reached out far enough to touch yours.

it was thursday afternoon on the walk home from school, safiya didn't come to school that day so it was just you and miles. "no because why did she say that like is that bitch really insane" you laughed. "shit is crazy for real" miles agreed, grabbing an arizona. you were currently in lenny's bodega heating up a beef patty - the last one how ironic, debriefing with miles about your day at school. "no fighting bout it this time?" lenny chuckled, ringing you guys up. "nah, he willingly agreed to share this time" you giggled.

you continued walking, both of you munching on your respective halves. you said something that made the both of you laugh and miles just stared at your smile, he wants that image stained in his brain. "alright, what. stressing me out with the staring" you joked, feeling a little awkward. "nothing" he laughed off before continuing. "will you let me take you out?" he asked you. all of a sudden you were nervous and looking around with a doofy grin on your face. "okayy. where?" you threw your trash in a nearby bin.

"it'd be a surprise. actually not really a surprise but on saturday, would you come?" he asked. "yeah i'll go on a date with you" you smiled. he pressed his lips together to hide the big smile that was growing on his face. he laughed out "okay alright, cool. i'll let you know the time" "okayy bye" you kissed him on the cheek and went up your block.

ʚɞ

it was friday night and you were rummaging through your closet for an outfit to wear. you groaned out a sigh and grabbed your phone opening miles' contact.

you pressed face time and waited for him to pick up. "yeah?" his prowler distorted voice answered. you looked at your phone to see him on what looks like to be a roof, prowler gear on. "oh shit sorry, didn't know you were doing your prowler stuff." you said, about to hang up. "nah it's fine, m'not busy right now" he told you, prowler voice turning off. "need something?" he asked you. "miles where are we goingg" you whined. "its a surprise, you can't handle surprises?" he chuckled. "i don't know how to dress for surprises. i don't know what to wear" you sighed. "you look good in everything, don't over think it."

"yeah well i wanna look good for you" you rolled your eyes. he scoffed "you literally always look so good, chiquita relax." suddenly there was a loud bang in the distance and he shot his head over his shoulder. "you'll figure it out. aight i gotta go" he said, prowler voice back on. he quickly hung up and you sighed, going to the kitchen to make a chicken wrap for dinner. this was a 3 am you problem.

ʚɞ

you got in the shower to shave, exfoliate, and scrub your body. getting out of the shower, you put on a face mask letting it set before you came back to do your skincare routine. you sat in your mirror to put product through your curls, deciding to let them down past your shoulders.

you finished your makeup and got dressed in the outfit you'd picked after a few hours of searching. you decided on a short strapless black dress and a gold chain belt that hung around your hips and chunky loafer heels. you decorated yourself with two layers of gold jewelry and your mom's earrings she'd given you.

you admired your look in the mirror before leaving to go in the living room. your dad looked over at you and furrowed his eyebrows "where you going all dressed up?" he asked, pausing his show. "i literally told you i was going out tonight" you scoffed, grabbing your purse. "with who?" he asked you. "miles.." you answered in a small voice. "that damn boy again?! y/n you're not-" daddy please, you literally already said yes. plus he's downstairs already. please please pleaseee" you begged, leaning over the chair in his face.

"ughh alright fine! but that location stays on all night and when i call, you answer. aight?" he bargained. "yayyy thank you daddy" you gave him a quick peck on the cheek before running to grab your purse and jacket. "okay i gotta go byeee" you ran out the door, and down the building stairs. you were about to open the door but miles was on the other side about to do the same thing. "oh hey. was gonna come and ask if you were still coming" he joked. "sorry, stuff with my dad" you smiled.

he took the time to really take you in. the way your curls perfectly framed your face, the way your gloss made your lips shine, the way your necklaces graced your collarbones, the way your dress hugged against your waist. "wow. you look amazing..you look like elegant and shit" he chuckled, feeling a little nervous. "here, they're for you" he smiled, handing you a bouquet of red roses. he reached out to hold your hand, leading you down the street. "ahh thank you" you didn't know what to say, compliments made you awkward.

"you look reall good too by the way" you checked him out. he wore a pair of grey pants with a black short sleeve top and jordans, black jacket over it. "tried my best to look as nice. i don't be dressing like that"he shrugged. "well you look very nice anyway" you squeezed his face.

"can you tell me where we're going now?" you asked him going down the metro stairs. "rockefeller" he answered with a smile. "to do what?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "skating" he answered leading you to a seat. "aw i haven't done that in so long. i used to go with my mom" you told him. "i know, safiya told me." he rubbed a thumb over your knuckles and only now did you realize neither of you had let go.

"you're such a sweetheart, i never would've guessed" you said. "what do you mean?" "i don't know. like i would've never thought we'd be going on a date. or that you would be so thoughtful" you shrugged. "i'm full of surprises, chiquita" he said with a smug look on his face. "yeah whatever" you giggled, resting your head on his shoulder.

you were still hand in hand walking to the entrance to purchase your tickets. “okay well now i feel overdressed” you sulked, taking off your heels. “nah you look good. don’t be afraid to show everybody else up” he got in his knee in front of you and helped you put your feet into the skates. thank goodness you wore socks. he looked up at you and the action felt so intimate while he gently placed your right foot in the skate.

soon after he put his skates on and put your bag and shoes in a locker. he took your hand again and helped you walk out on the rink. you were immediately losing your balance, throwing an arm around his shoulder to hold you steady. “aight i swear safiya told me you used to do this all the time.” he laughed. “only sometimes! and i never actually learned” you giggled.

unlike your clumsy and struggling to find balance movements, miles was smooth and moving with ease, hand on your waist to keep you up right. “how do you know how to skate” you asked him. “unlike you, i actually tried to learn” he joked.

for the majority of the time you stayed close the walls using them to move without making a fool of yourself. miles slowed down to match your pace, practically showing off how easy it came to him.

“alright come on” suddenly he was in front of you and grabbing your hands to pull you out in the middle. “alright wait wait wait wait” you frantically put your hands on his arms. “aye you need to learn chica. hold my hands and watch my feet” he told you. you followed his instructions as he pulled you along, yet yours remained unmoving.

he laughed “you know you gotta move yours too right. just copy how i’m moving mines but in the other direction”

he was in control but you followed his movements and eventually got the hang of it, enough to even move on your own. “atta girl, it ain’t even that hard” he smiled at you and you geeked at his praise. he grabbed your hand again and turned your body in a little twirl. which wound up with you falling into his chest nearly sending him to the ground. “aight so we not that far yet” he laughed. he looked at you before pressing a kiss on your lips.

you continued skating until your time slot was up and you got your things and left. “hungry?” he asked you. you nodded your head and responded with a small mhm before he led you down the street to a cozy restaurant.

you sat down and he ordered a plate of appetizers for you both. you talked the whole time throughout the meal, laughing your ass off. he excused himself for a moment and you kept your eyes on him watching as he found your waiter and told him something.

he came back after a minute and sat down and you guys got back to talking. after a few minutes your waiter came back with two plates, one with a raspberry brownie with fudge and one with strawberry caramel cheesecake - your favorite. he put the plates down and sent a wink to miles before walking away.

you looked down at the plate and it had the words ‘will you let me be your boyfriend?’ written in caramel drizzling. you gushed and bit your lip to hide the huge grin that spread across your face “ohh my god i thought you were literally never gonna ask” you giggled. “is that a yes?” “yes, it’s a yes” you smiled. he leaned over to the table to kiss you, hand placed on your cheek.

you finished your desserts and miles paid the bill before you left the restaurant. you practically couldn’t stay off each other on the walk to the subway station, you arms were wrapped around his and when you complained that your feet were hurting he leaned down so you could climb on his back.

you sat down on the train and he rest a hand on your thigh while you laid your head on his shoulder. “still got one more thing to show you. you down?” he asked. “yeah, for whatever”

you got off and he led you back to his graffiti site. “now how i’m supposed to climb that fence in these heels” you twisted your mouth to the side. he chuckled. “i’ll go over first throw them over the wall and i’ll hold them till you get over duh”

you followed his instructions and hopped the fence before leading you down. there was a wall, once blank now decorated with your face, detailed and big across the wall. you looked so beautiful through his eyes. he moved up next to you and took your hand in his. “ughh you are so..” you didn’t finish your sentence you just put your hands up to his face and brought your lips to his in a heartfelt kiss.

he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. his other hand moved to push your curl out of your face and at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. his hand slid down to your ass making your lips part slightly and his tongue slid in your mouth. the blaring sound of your ringtone made you jump and you sighed seeing it was your dad calling. “hey baby, you on your way home yet? it’s getting late, think you’d better come inside” he told you.

“okay i’ll see you” you answered, hanging up the phone. “it’s my dad, he wants me home” you sighed. “alright let’s go” he said.

you hopped the fence again making your way out of the station. “your feet still hurt?” he asked you. “a little bit” you answered. “well then hop on madame” he joked, leaning down so you could get back on his back.

you talked the whole way home, literally talking his ear off as your chin rest by his shoulder. “sorry if i’m talking too much” you said. “no it’s okay i like listening to you.” you smiled and buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the giddy expression on your face.

he got to your apartment building and gently put you back on the ground. “i’m really glad you asked to be my boyfriend.” you told him. “i’m really glad to be your boyfriend” he smiled. you held his face and pressed your lips against his before pulling away. “goodnight miles” you said. “good night, hermosa” he said back, easing away as you walked in your house.

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@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo @stevenknightmarc @melllinaa @444morales @noetophat @bigdikzaddy

[paradisedumpling]

The Unbitten Pomegranate

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TROPE: GoddessOfDeath!Karina x GoddessOfLife!Reader; lil bit of angst; some fluff; Greek Mythology; this is more character focused than couple focused iykwim

SYNOPSIS: spring has come, and with it, feelings resurfaced in the hearts of two very different but so similar beings

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of death (no major characters though); feelings of loneliness; underworld mentioned a bit often; Hades and Persephone are hinted to have/had a relationship; weird grammar; I'm so sleepy I definitely forgot some stuff I'm sorry guys

A/N¹: I wrote this in 2021 in another language and just google translated it, so if the grammar is all weird I'm so sorry 😭

A/N²: I would also just like to adress that I wrote this at 16 years of age and my view of Hades and Persephone's relationship was very romanticized at the time, and I understand today (at 19) that it definitely isn't like that. The only thing hinted here is that Karina is their daughter and I totally understand if you're uncomfortable reading it, there's no problem skipping this, always care for your health first no matter what.

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It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, many would say. For most people, maybe it is, but not for her.

For her, all spring brings are those who didn't survive the winter. Those who are allergic to pollen, who do not have much immune defense in the beloved season. The withered flowers, discarded after being gifted in numbers due to the lack of something more sentimental in a supposed special date. And everything else that spring cannot have.

Spring is nothing more than a pretty cover for a long-damaged book. Maybe it's her ignorance. She has never experienced the beauty that many say spring possess, just all the bad things that every season brings. She can't see so much beauty in something that causes so many problems. But she can't help but long to feel that feeling one day, if it even exists.

So, yes, it must be her ignorance that prevents her from seeing a beautiful story behind the pretty cover.

Either way, torn or newly processed pages, it doesn't matter. It will never matter. Spring is something distant, just like any other season, or living thing. Life and beauty are not something you find easily in the world she lives in. Unless it's something from outside, something that shouldn't be there, everything is cold, dark, vulgar and even tenebrous, on some days.

Something beautiful and full of life like spring is just a distant desire, a longing for something you never had or will never have again, a heartache you will never overcome.

There is no reason to ponder on something as distant as spring, so why is she here Standing at the passage that leads the underworld to the overworld, and vice versa. Thinking about the irrelevance of something she never had, never wanted.

Why did she suddenly care so much about the world above her own? A world that only holds grudges against her home, her family, her work. A world that doesn't deserve a second of her thought.

So why are she still here? Standing. Looking. Pondering. Wishing.

Maybe she didn't want to know at that moment. She didn't want to admit what she feared would be the answer to her questions.

It wasn't worth it anyway. Nothing would happen, as usual. Nothing happens. Nothing good, at least. It never happened and it will never happen. There is no reason to create hope that something good would happen.

Feelings like hope only bring more pain and she had no time for stupid feelings like this.

She had no time to feel anything but apathy toward the souls that roam her world and the monsters imprisoned in her land by someone who lied to himself about having power over everyone and everything.

She didn't have time for silly feelings and stupid thoughts.

And much less time to stay here, standing, thinking about meaningless things like the stupid spring and the stupid–

Maybe she's going too far. She shouldn't let her stress take over her reason. Her father always told her that the best way to release stress was to throw sinners into a river of lava. It's not the best option, but it's still viable.

On the other hand, her mother, a much wiser and calmer woman, always said that the best method was to take a deep breath and ask someone experienced for advice.

She could talk to her mother about this, she had always been the best at giving advice.

But her mother wasn't here. She was there, enjoying the wonders of spring, along with all the joys of the world above and that damned red hair that wouldn't leave her head, and–

"Miss?"

Yes, she didn't have time. She didn't have time because she had important tasks that couldn't be postponed. The arrival of spring also meant a new year, a new cycle. And like all other cycles, it was accompanied by problems that could only be solved by her.

She had work to do, and she didn't have time to dwell on the irrelevance of spring. Or the absence of her mother. Or those red locks that sometimes obstructed the beautiful features that her hope carried.

She didn't have time.

So she turned around and followed the butler to where her duties called. At least then she could forget. She didn't have to question it, much less deny it. She didn't have to wish.

Spring wasn't important, nor were her disjointed feelings.

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

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, if anyone asked you.

Not that they needed to.

If the smile on your face and the laughter you let out as you ran through the woods were nothing more than clear indications of your satisfaction with the arrival of spring.

Everything was so beautiful, so bright, so full of life. You couldn't think of a single soul who didn't like spring. Not even those who are gone and now inhabit the underworld.

Everyone has experienced spring, there's no way not to love it.

Everything was perfect, except one thing; the absence of those deep eyes.

You don't remember the first time you noticed them, but you know that since then, you've never forgotten them. It was as if you were drawn to them, that if you watched them for a long period of time you would forget the world around you.

When was the last time you had seen those captivating eyes? Two or three decades ago? Perhaps even a century has passed. So much time and you still hadn't forgotten that gaze; maybe you were getting sick.

With each passing season, you looked forward to the opportunity to see her again. You didn't even know the name of the one with such captivating eyes, but you were determined to find out.

It couldn't be difficult, right? The underworld doesn't have that many Gods and deities, so it shouldn't be a difficult mission.

Determined, you ran to the end of the hill, jumping over trunks and roots with grace, leaving a path of flowers where you feet touched.

Perhaps your mother knew something about those of the underworld. You could ask your uncle too. For all you knew, he had friends down there.

"Mother!" You ran into the temple, being careful not to bump into any of the animals on the way. "Mother!" You saw your mother in the garden, a Swallow on her finger, while she took care of its wing, which appeared to be injured. Both the bird and your mother looked at you in surprise at your sudden appearance. "Are you busy?" You stopped running, rubbing your hands behind your back in embarrassment, taking a few steps back to give your mother and the animal space. "I can come back another time, no problem."

"It isn't necessary. We were already finishing here." Your mother caressed the bird's beak, walking to a tree and leaving it on one of the low branches. Turning around, your mother walked towards you with a welcoming smile. "What's the curiosity of the moment, dear? You never come like this unless you have something to ask me." Your mother laughed, guiding you to the garden behind the temple. "So, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know about the Gods of the underworld." Your mother stopped walking, looking at you as if you had grown three heads. Well, you had never asked about this subject before. Maybe if you explained your reasoning, she would relax. "It's just... Well... There's this Goddess and–"

"You didn't eat any fruit that these people offered you, right?" The serious tone in her voice made you look at you mother in surprise. It was rare that your mother used that tone of voice directed at you. "Honey, if they're bothering you, just tell me and I'll sort it out quickly. They will see what happens for messing with my baby." The bow and arrow materialized in the hand of the Goddess, who had a determined and angry expression.

"What? No! Mother!" You moved in front of your mother, one hand on her right shoulder and the other holding her left wrist, avoiding that she raised the bow in the air. "No one is bothering me, much less offering me fruits from the underworld. Don't worry." Your mother looked at you cautiously, analyzing you for any signs of lies.

After a while, she finally relaxed, the bow and arrow dematerializing from her hands.

"Why are you curious about that place so suddenly?" She asked, resuming her walking and looking at you curiously. "Don't you know enough? Everything in that place is horrible, as is every being that inhabits it. From the King of the Underworld, to his heirs, his servants, the other Gods and all those monsters that are sparsely contained in an open field. What kind of idea is that?! To leave all these life-destroying monsters with so much comfort and the pleasure of free mobility? That man must be out of his mind if he thinks the best idea is to let those atrocities be free like that."

You were a little afraid by the way your mother talked about the underworld. You knew it wasn't the ideal place, but it wasn't that bad. It can not be. If the Goddess of Spring herself chose to live there, it shouldn't be so bad.

And those black eyes that captivated your attention. You never saw any evil in them.

Only melancholy, but never evil.

You couldn't imagine them carrying that evil fire that everyone says the Gods of the underworld have by nature.

"I just- I was just curious." You replied, not wishing to hear any more disgust from your mother. "I was wondering, with the end of winter, that many of the animals that didn't survive are there now. I was just curious about what happens once you die and go there, nothing more. I'm sorry if I offended you somehow."

"Oh, honey. You didn't offend me." You mother placed a hand on your cheek. "But I don't want to hear any more about this matter. We don't know if it attracts them." Your mother shook her head, as if shaking off the thoughts. "And don't speak about these insensitive subjects around the animals. They might become sad." She looked around, noticing some of the animals that visited the temple looking at the two of you curiously.

The Swallow from before was looking at you with an intimidating intensity.

"I'm sorry again." Smiling, you adjusted your dress and put your hair back. "I better go now, I still have to check how the animals to the south are doing. I also have to see the farmers' crops in the plains. So I still have a lot to do."

"Yes. I'm also very busy." Your mother called two deers with her hand, which were probably waiting to be attended to before you got there. "Don't come back late, alright?"

With a final nod of your head, your went on your way out of the temple, still thinking about the dark-eyed Goddess who has been occupying your mind for so long.

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

The grand Mount Olympus, where the greatest Gods in the world are found. The most beautiful and purest place in the world, where everything is perfect and everyone treats you with affection and respect; or so they say.

For her, Mount Olympus was just a place where several ignorant and selfish people lived, too busy filling their own egos to think about anything similar to 'affection and respect'.

If someone one day were to gain the privilege, or the misfortune, of being called to this place, you can be assured that it was only for the selfishness and egotism of the God who called upon you.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to come to Olympus often. A meeting her father couldn't attend once in a century was better than coming here every week.

But that didn't mean she liked coming here.

Every word her uncle spoke was a sigh that left her mouth. She was bored and starting to get irritated with the aimless conversation.

She felt sorry for her father for having to actively participate in these meetings. Most of the time they didn't discuss anything related to the underworld, but he still had to come. She understood why he spent so much time in the lava river when he returned home.

At least there was one thing she tolerated in all of this; The Goddess with red hair.

You seemed so calm, occasionally giving opinions, smiling at everyone, looking at her....

Looking at her?! Were you looking at her?!

Disbelieved, she turned her gaze, trying to calm her heart and ease her embarrassment, opting to touch her glass full of wine, which had not been touched until this moment.

After a while, she looked again, realizing that you were still looking at her. This time, giving her a smile when you saw her return your gaze.

She didn't know what to do, she was never caught looking at the you, much less interacted with you.

Not wanting to ignore you, she waved her hand discreetly and turned her gaze away again, not wanting to attract the attention of the other Gods.

She wasn't going crazy, she couldn't. She ignored those feelings for so long, occupying herself with her work in the underworld and the certainty that you hated her, just like all the other Gods.

So why were you and your beautiful red hair looking and smiling at her at that moment?

She didn't want to think about the reasons at that moment, and she had never been so relieved when her uncle announced a break in the meeting, which should have been going on for hours.

Rising from her father's throne, she silently left the meeting hall and went to the garden of Olympus, probably the only truly beautiful and pure thing in that entire place.

Walking along the path at the entrance to the garden, she saw a Swallow near the carnation flowerbed. Approaching cautiously, but keeping a reasonable distance from the bird, she crouched down and admired the animal, a small smile on her face.

The times she came to the garden of Mount Olympus were one of the few moments when she could witness life, not just the remains of it. One of the few moments she could forget who she was.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." She knew that voice. If it were anyone else, she would eternally curse them for interrupting her moment, but not you.

Sighing, she looked at the Swallow one last time, as if hoping that the animal would enlighten her mind with ideas to escape that situation. She didn't know if she was ready to face the owner of red hair she long admired.

Deciding to accept that this time there was no escaping, she turned around, finally facing the one who inhabited her mind more than she would like to admit.

"I... I would like to talk." She looked behind you, not wanting any of the other Gods to see the two of you together. She didn't want to cause any problems. "If you want of course." You turned your gaze away, red flowers springing around you, giving away your shyness.

That sight got a small laugh out of her, earning a confused look from you.

"Your mother wouldn't like to see you with me. Or none of the others, for that matter." She turned to watch the flowers again.

She was afraid of being distracted by the beauty of the Goddess in front of her, she didn't want to cause herself any embarrassment.

"What would you like to talk about? I can't imagine what a Goddess of life could want with a Goddess of death." She looked at the your red hair from the corner of her eye. "If you wish to know how to bring someone back to the world of the living, I am afraid that there is no way to do such a thing." When you didn't immediately respond, she knew she never had a chance.

She should never have had hoped. You must hate her, just as everyone else despises her.

"What is your favorite animal?" What? "I imagine there shouldn't be many in the underworld, but there must be some animal that pleases you the most."

Maybe she was really going crazy. No one from Olympus ever asked her anything personal, she were certainly hearing things.

But you curiously looked at her, waiting for her answer, as you slowly sat down next to her.

Turning her head away in embarrassment, she replied. "I like sea animals. I never actually got to see the sea, so I find them fascinating. But I don't have any specific ones. There aren't many books on the subject at home and I don't want to have favorites before I have greater knowledge about the area." When she looked at you again, you had a big smile on your face. "What about you? I mean, if you have one. I don't think the Life and Fauna Goddess has a favorite animal."

You laughed, approaching her and leaning in to say something in her ear.

"Don't let the others hear." You looked at the Swallow, who was watching the two of you curiously. "But I have a weak spot when it comes to beavers. They are so kind." The two of you shared a laugh, falling into a comfortable silence soon after, watching the bird try to take one of the carnations from the flowerbed in its beak. "Y/n." You extended your hand, giving her the sweetest and most sincere smile she had ever received in her entire existence, your gracious red locks flowing with the wind making the scene the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"Karina." She smiled back. It was a strange act, she wasn't used to it, but it wasn't undesirable. "Maybe we should head back." She looked at the entrance to the garden, being able to hear some of the other Gods, who should be returning to the meeting hall at the moment. "We can finish this conversation another time." She stood up, extending her hand to help you get up.

"Will there be another time? Cool." She heard you mumble, containing her laughter at it. "Yeah, at another time." The bird took flight, taking two carnation flowers with it. "It really must be time to go back." You two exchanged one last smile, starting the walk back to the boring meeting room.

But maybe it wouldn't be so tedious anymore. Perhaps she would accompany her father to Olympus more often.

And maybe she could wish. Maybe she could admire her hope outside of her memories.

And maybe, just maybe, Karina was beginning to understand the mysterious beauty of spring.

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a/n: y'all I know the moodboard is terrible but I'm so tired and sleepy I can barely see my phone screen, I'll fix it tomorrow I promise 🙏

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thank you for reading!! <3

[httpskuzuu]

Softer

hola :D fyodor is alive - fyodor esta vivo I was thinking about making a masterlist or something like that, I don't know if when I upload this I will have it published or how I will do it

anyway, I really liked this and enjoyed writing it, it's longer than I usually post but Idk, by the way, I hated translating this, it was a pain in the ass, but that's what I get for joining a mostly English community ññññññññññññ-- well, this is mostly inspired by Sinner by TheBloodySadist, you can find it in Ao3 if you want to read it, I had an obsession with it a few months xd

jaja this has gone on too long, well, adiós adiós :p

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

sumary: You tried to escape and now you have to take the consequences, but you make something change in Fyodor... (juju, mistery >:p) Pt.2

tw: yandere behavior, kidnapping, failed escape attempt, explicit punishment, explicit violence, blood, broken bones, humiliation¿, manipulation, brainwashing, stockholm syndrome, reader needs therapy, stabbing, nudity, sedative, Fyodor is a fucking tw

You tremble under the weight of the boot on your ribs, you swear that at some point you hear them cracking along with an agonizing pain throughout your body.

The pressure on your body makes it impossible for you to breathe properly, which is a serious problem considering you are hyperventilating. Every breath burns your exhausted lungs and aggravates the pain.

You'd ask Fyodor to kill you already if it weren't for the fact that your throat is in a terrible condition from so much screaming and pleading.

"Well, I see I can't trust you, can I?" Despite the situation, Fyodor's tone provokes you inner anger, sounding so sarcastic. Something deep inside you tells you it's not sarcasm, it's concern, but you can't believe it, especially not coming from Fyodor.

You imagine that, if you had the strength at this moment, you would kill him with your own hands. You know well you wouldn't be able to, but it's pleasant to think about it.

"I do everything for you, and still you try to escape." He puts more pressure against your ribs and you've never felt as much pain as you do now. "You spoiled brat." He growls and his Russian accent becomes much thicker.

He removes his foot from your body and you can breathe. Relief courses through your veins and, out of pure instinct, you thank him for that act of kindness. He could have stretched it out longer, put more pressure on you and broken your ribs more, but he was merciful and gave you a break…. A break, you know that your punishment is not yet over.

You don't know yourself and your thoughts. One thing you have to hand it to Fyodor is that his training is really effective, but you're tougher than that, or at least you like to think so. Realistically, right now, you just want to curl up against him.

A kick in the side snaps you out of your thoughts, you moan and cry from the pain, your throat burning with fire. You never want to utter a sound again in your life after this.

"Aw, you poor thing… Does it hurt? Now you know how I feel every time you leave me." He's lying, you know that, but that doesn't take away the guilt that settles in your head free-form.

You shouldn't have run away, Fyodor isn't even that bad if you behaved: no gratuitous physical harm and he takes better care of you than you could ask of a kidnapper. You were an idiot, you deserved all this for not appreciating your life with Fyodor properly. God… Why did you try to escape in the first place? The Russian would always would catch you, you were just causing trouble.

Ignoring your destroyed throat, you decide to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't try to escape again. Please give me another chance, I'll be good…"

Fyodor kneels down next to your agonized body. He puts his hand against your tear-stained cheek, at first you flinch, thinking he was going to hurt you more, but then you lean almost automatically against his cold hand.

You cry harder as you feel Fyodor's gentle touch, you don't quite understand what's wrong with you, you just know that you want to melt against his hand. You close your eyes and tremble. You want a hug from him, you know you shouldn't want that, that it's disgusting, he kidnapped you and hurt you, but at a time like this, when you've been disobedient, he's still showing you affection….

"Shh, it's okay, милый." He catches the falling tears with his thumb. "I know you're sorry, but your punishment isn't over yet." You automatically tense up and slowly open your eyes to look at the man in front of you, there is a smirk of superiority painted on his face, observing your pathetic appearance.

You don't dare open your mouth to complain because deep down you know very well that you deserve it, you deserve the pain for being so bratty and causing inconvenience to Fyodor. You accept what lies ahead of you and let Fyodor pull his hand away from you.

With his grip firmly on your hip, he guides you to turn around. You keep the cheek that was previously receiving the loving touch against the ground a thousand times colder than Fyodor.

You concentrate exclusively on the Russian's hands, it's just an idiotic attempt to ignore the pain all over your body. He pulls up your shirt, leaving your back bare against the cold, why is everything so cold all of a sudden? Fyodor is too, in a way he brings you peace of mind, it's like he's everywhere, even in the air…. What the hell are you thinking? You firmly believe you're delusional at this point, these are not your real thoughts, it's clear to you, he put all these idiotic ideas in your head and now you can't get them out. It's agonizing in a certain way.

The only thing you hear is your irregular breathing, if it wasn't for Fyodor's hand clamped on your hip, you would think you were alone right now, and you don't know if you would like that more or less.

Something sharpening presses against your upper back. Everything breaks down in a moment as Fyodor makes a straight cut across your entire back. It hurts horrendously, especially as the blood starts to spurt out. You start to feel dizzy and for a few moments you convince yourself you're going to pass out, but no, your body is still holding on, focused solely on Fyodor's hand.

"Breathe, моя любовь. It's just a cut." You repeat Fyodor's last sentence in your head like a mantra: it's just a cut, it's just a cut. He could have done it much worse to you, you were fine, just a cut.

You take comfort in closing your eyes hard and imagining that you are once again a child at the doctor's office, that you are simply having blood drawn for a blood test because you have not been feeling very well lately. You make a fist with your hand and clench it, digging your fingernails deep into your palm, it's as if you are clutching the hand of one of your parents for comfort. There is no more pain, it's okay, it's all right-

Another cut, this time horizontal, creates a cross on your back. You don't care, you're at the hospital, and you're safe, nothing will happen to you. It's just a cut.

Fyodor stabs the weapon into your side. You open your eyes wide as a torn scream comes out of your mouth.

Fuck it all, do you really deserve this? Have you been so horrible? You assume that Fyodor simply hates you, that he wants to torture you.

Fyodor pulls the weapon out of your body, you look out of the corner of your eye and the wound doesn't seem to be that bad, you thought it was deeper because of the pain, but no, it was something apparently superficial. You didn't want to know how much it would hurt if he had really stabbed you deeper.

Fyodor's voice right next to your ear startles you. "Sorry, was that too much? Did I hurt my little one too much?" That mocking tone again, but you hear a hint of love and concern, or so you assume. No, it's impossible for Fyodor to hate you, if he hated you there wasn't that hint of love, was there? If he hated you, he wouldn't say to you like that: my little one, his little one.

"I can't take it anymore! Please, Fyodor!" He leaves a chaste kiss on the back of your neck, and you cry disconsolately, you don't know why, but you do know it's not because of the pain, the pain doesn't matter anymore.

"You can." Fyodor's voice is the ultimate authority right now, and if he says you can take it, it's because you can. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

After those words you instantly panic, you desperately shake your head, of course you don't want to disappoint him! You have to accept your punishment, it was your fault in the first place.

"Brace yourself, dear." Fyodor leaves a trail of kisses from the nape of your neck all the way down your back, above the vertical cut. You assume he's filled his lips with blood and hate yourself at the thought of how attractive he'd look like that.

A new cut interrupts your hatred. You scream, but nothing more, you can take it, for Fyodor….

It's just one cut.

You don't know how many cuts there are next, you are not able to count them. You don't feel your throat anymore, but miraculously it still works, your screams are still coming out of it, you are relieved because you still want to keep your voice to talk to Fyodor, to ask him to hold you.

Fyodor removes your shirt completely and lays it aside on the floor. He holds you firmly and helps you sit up, any movement is hell for your ribs, but you endure it by concentrating on your kidnapper, on his loving but steadfast touch.

You look at him dizzy, teary-eyed and shattered. He is smiling, you have not disappointed him. Your head hurts as you cry disconsolately against his chest again.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying now? Your punishment is over, I won't hurt you anymore."

"You…" You're unable to speak, it's too much at once, the pain and your thoughts coming together in a ball of discomfort. You shake your head and hug him tightly.

"Are you afraid?" You weakly shake your head. It's true that Fyodor scares you, especially on these occasions when he punishes you, but you're not crying about it now.

Funny, you don't know why you're crying, but you do know what you're not crying about.

Fyodor is silent, thinking about why you're crying. "Is it about the pain?" You deny again.

Fyodor hums thoughtfully. "If you don't tell me what it is, I can't help you." You ponder on that: does he want to help you? Is he serious?

You make the feeble attempt to gather your thoughts and speak. "It's just- I don't know" Your voice comes out shakier than you wish it would. "When you touch me… It feels so good, I don't deserve it, I don't-"

"Oh, I see… Aren't you crying because of something bad? Is it because it feels good?" You nod quickly, yes, that's as close as you feel. You're happy when it touches you, when it's good to you. Were you crying out of happiness? Well, you guess so, although it feels more depressing.

"It's okay, relax." He leaves a kiss in front, and it breaks you inside. "You've taken the punishment very well, come on, you deserve to be taken care of."

The process of getting up from the floor is horrible, not only because of the pain all over your body and your numb legs, but because your mind doesn't stop spinning around Fyodor's last sentence. It feels horrible and so good at the same time that your mind is only around one specific person.

He helps you up and you let him lean your useless body against his. He guides you through the house, being patient with your slow pace. He's mostly silent, except when he tells you how well you're doing or that not long to go. Since when did Fyodor know how to talk so pleasantly?

You reach the bathroom, he sits you on the toilet and turns on the bathtub faucet. While it is filling, Fyodor takes some pills out of a drawer that you have always found locked. You don't know what the pills are or what they're for, but he hands you one and you take it without question.

You let your head fall against Fyodor's stomach, even though he is standing upright he doesn't move an inch and lets you be comfortable, he strokes your hair and you sigh lovingly. You don't deserve it, but you need more of this Fyodor, the soft Fyodor who takes care of you and makes you feel good, what did you have to do in the future to keep it in this shape? If you need to be damaged for that, well, you are willing to do it.

"The tub is full." He warns and moves a little away from you, causing you to raise your head. You miss a little that he's touching you, even though he's only been separated of you for three seconds. He holds you under your armpits and helps you up. "I need you to stand up on your own, can you, дорогой?"

You try not to focus so much on Fyodor asking you if you could do it instead of just sending you the order, and focus on standing on your own.

The Russian undresses you completely, his hands are soft, and you feel them all over your body. They are so cold, and you are so cold too now that you are naked. You are vulnerable, now more than ever, and Fyodor's fixed gaze on you disturbs you. You are simply an easy prey to hunt, his prey.

He doesn't look like a hunter now, as much as his gaze is like knives stabbing through every spot he focuses on, you think he's not doing it on purpose. Fyodor doesn't know how to be nice, he never has. He knows how to be neutral: he can keep you alive and give you necessities, but he can't kiss you and keep you warm.

But there's something wrong with all this, he's being warm because since when are his hands so soft against your battered body? You need him, you need him so much it hurts, is this his way of being nice? Okay, fine, you accept it without complaint.

When he puts you in the tub you want to die, the cuts on your back burn at the contact of the water. You don't dare say a word at that or ask Fyodor to pull you out, you're afraid you'll upset him, that he'll get tired of you being so weak and whiny and stop being gentle. Fyodor could have left you lying on the cold floor, bleeding, but he didn't. You can't be an unbearable child to him.

The Russian starts washing your body, putting special emphasis on your cuts and the wound on your side. You look at his serious face with need, why were you only now realizing how handsome he was? Mmmh, you must have been blind before. He notices obviously your shy look on his lips and he smiles, that smile indicating that he was superior to you and despite that, he was still keeping you alive and forgiving of everything you did.

He approaches you and gives you the only thing you needed to be satisfied for today: a kiss. It reminds you of all the good things, strangely enough in those memories Fyodor also appears and disturbs you minimally.

You question yourself that, maybe, Fyodor does know how to be gentle.

This is the proof you need to know that now this was a new version, right? He kissed you. You feel a warmth spreading throughout your body, now it is warm, and his hands are warm too. There is a big change in temperature and it feels like heaven.

After that, Fyodor continued to wash you with special care, ignoring how your face might explode from how red it was.

The only thing that could crush the heat was tiredness, you almost fell asleep a couple of times, but you didn't want to fall asleep because it would be like wasting time with this soft Fyodor, what if tomorrow he returned to his serious and impassive face? You can't waste this time or you would regret it.

"Go to sleep, take it easy. I'll take you to bed when I'm finished." You looked at him as the most merciful being in the world. He cared about you…

You hold back your sobs for these acts of kindness, you don't want to cry anymore, not only to avoid possible discomfort in Fyodor, but for yourself, the headache is unbearable.

You let yourself fall asleep, with your head supported on your knees and Fyodor's soothing touch.

You had a nightmare which you don't remember, or don't want to remember. You wake up with your body held in Fyodor's arms, warm and gentle.

Since when did everything become so homey? Homey? Would that be the right word? Describing any situation involving Fyodor with that word doesn't feel natural to you.

You find it hard to feel your body, and your thoughts don't flow as quickly and aggressively as they used to. It's like being enveloped in a cloud, full of comfort and calmness.

You just feel something on your side, at the site of the shallow stab wound. You think maybe it's some bandage, but your limbs are asleep and too comfortable against Fyodor to move them to check. Otherwise, you feel nothing, only someone else's hand on your lower belly, it's extremely intimate in your perspective.

You turn your sleepy head and glance sideways at Fyodor. He seems calm, looking at you, his face is emotionless again and it scares you. You come to convince yourself that he is still the soft Fyodor, if he wasn't his hand wouldn't be on you, he still hasn't changed, you repeat that to yourself until you believe it.

"… Fyodor, do you know what?" Your voice comes out weak and hoarse, you wonder how soon your throat will heal. You're thankful you can't feel it well, so there's no pain anymore.

"Mmmh?"

"I think I love you."

"Do you?" There is a change, minuscule, but a change.

You nod and look away from his face, you can't stand it, no. There has been a change, you don't know in what. There's been a change, a change! Is it good or bad? You want to think it's a nice thing.

"You're different."

"I am? In what way?"

"You're softer, something nice."

"You're drugged, you don't talk sense."

"But you're different! Seriously, you never take care of me."

Silence rules the room and it hurts. Why did you talk? What idiocy, it's your fault everything that happens now, all your fault.

"You cried with happiness when I helped you sit up." Your gaze returns to the other.

"I know, so what? You want me to cry again?" There are no bad intentions behind your comment, there really aren't. You feel your brain empty, and you can't quite interpret the situation, what is Fyodor trying to tell you? Is he angry? Is he going to punish you again? It's exhausting to use your brain in this state, so you just give up and go with the flow.

"No, I don't want that." The silence stretches a little longer and, for just a few seconds, Fyodor looks away. He looks away. "I just… I thought maybe you'd be happier if I treated you good."

"Ah…" He wanted you to be happy? Really?

"I know I hurt you, but you know I only do it when you deserve it, don't you?" You nod and the cuts on your back burn for a few seconds. "Good. I really want you to be happy, with me."

You feel like at any moment the old Fyodor will appear through the door and say something like it was all a test, and then punish you for failing it. It's a horrible feeling, but you come to believe that it will seriously pass.

"So… Are you still going to be soft?"

"Yes, only if you are obedient in return."

Yes, yes, yes. He's going to keep being gentle. For some reason your chest hurts, and you sob, Fyodor has a few drops of surprise in his expression. You hide from his gaze and just focus on the yes, it's like releasing a horrible burden out of your body. You weren't afraid he was lying, something told you he wasn't, his expression maybe, or his voice, or….

"Are you crying with happiness now too?"

"I like the soft Fyodor…"

"Mmmh, that's good, isn't it?" He pulls you a little closer to his face and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. You'd like to kiss him in return, but you can't move. "I'll keep being soft then."

I swear all I could think about while writing this was to to send it all to hell and make these two fuck

maybe I will make a second part

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: Alhaitham x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, Kaveh's cameo, masturbation, dacryphilia, sweet fantasies of rough blowjob;D

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Oh, words cannot express how much I love Alhaitham, and I was always sad to see that almost no one wrote about how he masturbates. This is a huge omission, I think.

art: @eriimyon

In part, Alhaitham was even jealous of his annoying roommate. Although in many ways Kaveh's lifestyle and beliefs seemed absurd to the Secretary, he couldn't deny the fact that the unnerving architect surprisingly had the ability to easily make new acquaintances and win people over. Alhaitham has never needed such a skill, finding social interactions an empty, and sometimes even harmful, waste of time. Communication with people is not beneficial, which means it is not necessary. So why is he so desperate to communicate with you, stumbling over words every time he tries to squeeze out something more than a silent nod of greeting?

This is illogical. This goes beyond his understanding, and therefore raises more and more questions. He spends whole evenings assessing his physical condition, noting a rapid heartbeat in your presence, distraction, sudden verbal degradation, an inexplicable desire to attract your attention and…

Right now, he was really thinking about the cause of his new problem. Was the aching erection in his now tight trousers caused by irritation after Alhaitham noticed how Kaveh was frivolously cooing with you, while he still couldn't figure out why it was so damn annoying for him? Perhaps. Although earlier outbursts of anger had not caused such a reaction, the Secretary went through several more options, settling on the only one that seemed plausible and reasonable enough to him.

Alhaitham is jealous.

The Secretary is in turmoil, but mentally he ticked off all signs of jealousy, catching himself thinking that his envy and anger towards Kaveh lately were caused by feelings he had for you. How reckless and stupid. Feelings defy logic, which makes it impossible for Alhaitham to even try to control them.

This irritates the poor scientist even more when a hopeless quiet growl leaves his throat and a large palm dives under the table. He can't concentrate. You're not letting him focus. The expression of pleasure from communicating with his roommate on your face and the way Kaveh's hand rested shamelessly lightly on your shoulder, while Alhaitham didn't even dare to speak to you, infuriated the Secretary. He shouldn't have these feelings. He shouldn't be thinking about how he could grab your wrist, yanking you out of a nice conversation with a drunken loser architect living off of him. He shouldn't think that he can give you more. He shouldn't think about how, instead of wasting his time chatting with Kaveh, you could now calm his excitement, which is as uncontrollable as the feelings that are sickeningly bubbling in his chest.

And he doesn't think about it. Not at all.

His long fingers quickly straighten the belt, lowering the soft fabric of his trousers. And Alhaitham doesn't think at all about how your miniature hands could do it. While one of his hands lifts up the top that hugs his embossed torso, allowing a hard, languishing erection to hit his lower abdomen, Alhaitham doesn't think at all about what the expression on your face might be if you were under his table right now.

The Secretary hisses hopelessly, wrapping his calloused fingers around the throbbing flesh. His gaze slides over the papers scattered on the table for the last time before all thoughts of unfinished work leave his head. He can't work while you're dominating his mind like a parasite intent on destroying him from the inside. Alhaitham is so angry. Is his anger directed at you, or is he more annoyed by his own impotence? It doesn't matter anymore when his eyes blissfully close, reproducing your image under heavy eyelids.

He's so pathetic. You've barely exchanged a few phrases since he met you for the first time, and he already shamelessly imagines you sitting on your knees under his massive desk, salivating and greedily looking at his heavy cock, alluringly trembling in front of your face.

The fight against common sense was lost even at the moment when his penis treacherously rested against a muscular thigh, once again reminding Alhaitham that even he isn't immune from the primitive desires of his own body.

He wanted your soft lips to open, ready to take his entire length. Your outward purity and innocence only make the Secretary want to break you, blacken you with his insatiable cock, eager to be inside you. He's still tormented by the pathetic floundering of reason, trying to stop him and throw your vulgar image out of his head, but lust and base need immediately muffle the voice of reason, allowing Alhaitham to become an ordinary person in need of immediate discharge for just this moment.

The Secretary revels in fantasies about how you tentatively stick out your tongue, grabbing a salty bead of pre-ejaculate from the urethra with the tip to taste it, imitating this sinful action by stroking the sensitive head with the pad of your thumb. The sweet melody of your honey voice shimmers in my ears as a satisfied moan leaves your heaving chest.

Your seductive charm irritates Alhaitham even in his own fantasies, forcing him to tightly grasp a treacherous erection, repeating his own actions from the picture looming in his mind, where his fingers dive into your disheveled hair, forcibly forcing you to impale yourself on his pulsating length with one persistent and rough thrust. He can almost feel the walls of your narrow throat constricting in gagging spasms as you choke on his cock. You don't deserve mercy. You should feel in full on your own throat how great his disappointment is with his own powerlessness.

His knuckles turned white from the force with which Alhaitham clenched his fist, repeating the aggressive and ruthless pace that he set in your head in his imagination. Ah, your tears look so charming combined with the despair and silent pleading reflected in your sparkling eyes. This is what kind of Secretary would like to see you one day. Your smile makes his heart beat faster in his chest, but just the thought that the corners of your charming eyes would be filled with bitter tears of impotence from his cock destroying you from the inside, delighted Alhaitham. Perhaps he would even like Kaveh to see how you slowly lose yourself and die from his cock. Alhaitham wonders how much he could have angered his roomate if Kaveh had caught him with you doing such a vulgar thing?

The Secretary didn't even have time to notice how his hand began to gain an even more frenzied pace, his hips began to push greedily towards the movements of his palm, and his head fell back on the back of the chair while he was so desperately chasing orgasm, as if, if he slowed down even a little, he would again wallow in these unnerving warm feelings, from which he really wanted to get rid of it, at least for tonight.

Alhaitham can feel the phantom vibrations from your moans in his fantasies. You cry, pressing your nails into his hips, making pathetic attempts to slow down his movements, which further spurs the ruthless scientist to dig deeper into your throat with each new thrust. An image of your neck and the bulge under the delicate thin skin that his dick creates, stretching the spasming walls of your throat, appears before his eyes. How sweet. In his imagination, you choke, but you enjoy the way he defiles you. Your tear-stained eyes seem to beg him to cum in your mouth, but Alhaitham only grins ominously to himself, not going to indulge your desires even in his own imagination. You haven't paid enough for putting him in such a humiliating position yet.

His hips are shaking, and his cock is throbbing and swelling in his hand, which does not slow down for a second at a furious pace. His clouded mind paints a delightful picture of how his impressive organ leaves your warm throat to pour out sticky white threads on your tear-stained face. Hot jets scatter chaotically, settling in viscous drops on your hair, cheeks, eyelids and eyelashes wet with tears as you squint and whimper, still painfully pressing your fingers into his hips.

The palm swings lazily a couple more times before stopping at the base of the shuddering penis. A satisfied low and hoarse moan escapes from Alhaitham's throat and his body finally relaxes and slumps in the chair. It takes him a few seconds to descend from the height of his much-needed orgasm. The thought flashes through the scientist's mind that this pleasure was not even a tenth of what he could have experienced if he had brought all his dirty fantasies to life.

And now your image is finally leaving his mind, leaving behind a sickening aftertaste. For the first time in his life, Alhaitham feels ashamed of his own intemperance, which is completely out of character for him.

Emerald eyes open wide to tidy themselves up. The blurred silhouettes in front of his eyes finally form a clear picture, forcing the Secretary's shame to recede into the background, giving way to a new portion of irritation when he notices wet drops of his own sperm covering his palm, lower abdomen and… Documents lying on the table.

— Damn, — Alhaitham hisses, reaching for the box.

One day you'll have to pay for that too.

[imhidingonceagain]

Slimeriana and QSMP fans, we need to talk (really, I'm going to talk about a few things).

CW: nsfw

Warning: long post.

At this point I think majority of you guys know what happened with Mariana yesterday (especially because the fliporiana community is small compared to other ones).

I'm gonna write some stuff Mariana said and I'm gonna be explicit about it because I want you guys to understand the severity of the situation (this is your warning):

Context: He was curious to see if people actually posted nsfw stuff about him (and poor boy, he really thought he wouldn't find any).

And I quote what he said after seeing some posts: "No, no, no! Why's Slime penetrating me?!" (He was probably looking at a fanart)

"I'm not doing role like that with Slime anymore. I thought you guys found it funny (he was talking about the sex role in the QSMP) but it only fills your minds with shit"

"I'm gonna say it in English because I know there's QSMP fans who do it as well: Don't draw hentai about me, don't draw us fucking, that's being a pervert, that's wrong"

Some months ago I wrote a post when we got the first warning in regards of this topic.

Mariana and Slime have talked about fanart before and at the time they didn't seem uncomfortable about it (though it seems like Charlie's girlfriend was).

So I wrote: it's not necessary to stop doing fanart about them. Just be careful with what you draw and where you post it.

To me even "suggestive" fanarts are "okay" (but with suggestive I mean the characters looking at each other like they want to kiss each other so bad, that's it). But when and how did that translate to some of you thinking that drawing real people having sex and not only having sex (because there's always ways to show intercourse without being explicit or disgusting) but also showing private parts is okay?

Because it's obvious Mariana saw something super explicit by the way he reacted (because he doesn't get bothered too easily). My poor man was distressed!

And let me tell you something. This is not only about Mariana and Slimecicle. This is a REAL PROBLEM within the fandom. Let me give you some examples:

I love reading fanfiction and months ago I was scrolling through the QSMP section on AO3 and let me tell you something: the amount of fanfiction written about the eggs and their parents in a non platonic way is CONCERNING.

Especially Wilbur Soot's fandom seems to have a lot of rotten apples who think that writing abusive stories about q! Wilbur and Tallulah is fine.

I understand some people write stories like that not because they're crime apologists, but because that's their way to deal with trauma (and dealing with trauma through art is okay). But PLEASE remember that while the eggs are fictional, their "parents" are REAL people.

Use fictional characters, please. Stop writing real people into pedophilic or highly abusive situations. THAT'S HORRENDOUS.

Another example is the following: Some weeks ago people were reporting a Twitter account and I clicked on the account (I personally don't like reporting people without making sure they deserved) and it took me like three seconds of scrolling to see more than 5 Ccs being disrespected (including Slimecicle, Quackity, Cellbit, Roier and Badboyhalo). Explicit Pictures, videos and fanarts were being posted about these creators.

You know what I think? I think Cellbit made his character asexual not only for the representation (it's clear by now that q! Cellbit is a sex positive asexual which is still representation yay!) But because he has been on the internet since around 2011 and he knows how disrespectful people can be. I think he knew that his and Roier's ship was getting too popular and that makes them both unprotected to shit like this.

Sadly, it's clear that it didn't matter that Cellbit made his character asexual, people can't seem to respect that detail about his character and about himself as a real person.

To some people it doesn't matter if the Cc is ambiguous or completely clear about their boundaries, they still don't give a fuck.

Please remember that behind each character is a real person. I understand sometimes you guys want to see your favorite characters fuck -me too, honestly- but for people like streamers that's out of the questions because not only they're real people, but because their work is related to social media and the possibilities of them finding EVERYTHING we write and post about them are super high.

I don't know how to feel. It's obvious that Mariana has not been feeling the same about the server since Juanaflippa died. Maybe this will make him feel even worse about the QSMP but I hope I'm wrong.

[mari-lair]

I want to talk about Killua and Gon's separation.

There is a lot to untangle so let's start with Killua's mentality after the Chimera Ant Arc.

Killua is aware of how much Gon hurt him, and he understands that even if Gon's bond and dept with Kite is not something he can relate to, this pain isn't something he can brush off either, yet, he comclude his self-reflection by calling his dilemma a burden.

This need to be valued by Gon is what made him take things personally and feel useless during their invasion.

Regardless of his own feelings and issues, Killua blames himself for not sucking up and staying there with Gon. He has for a while... Take note of how horrified he looks after Palm tells him he is the one Gon needs the most.

Any possible joy he could have gotten from being important was far too small compared to the crushing realization 'Gon needs me and I left him alone while he was suffering.'

But Killua is hurting for himself too, at how he was put in a situation where everything felt out of his control.

That makes him angry.

When yelling at Gon about how reckless and selfish he is, Killua thinks to himself "apologies...?" as a question, a question that comes right after thinking "this time I won't forgive you'', like he is trying to find an answer to how he is feeling.

He doesn't really know what he wants from Gon, how or even where to direct his anger.

But he does know what he wants from himself.

'I will definitively make you better.'

It makes his declaration feel more like a "you will be alive to apologize. You will be here when I figure it out" the apology itself isn't nearly as important.

Because his recovery is so important, Killua doesn't allow himself to think too hard about it. He can't get emotional and make mistakes again, he needs to be level headed and get things done.

Even if the ever-present fear that he will be too late to save Gon is there.

He was too late once after all.

Killua immediately loses his calm when there are no hospital curtains or glass windows between them.

Even with Nanika by his side to give him strength, he is tense from the moment he reaches for Gon's hand. It breaks him to witness exactly how bad Gon state has become.

Translations vary but the sense of urgency is prevalent, even with his mission accomplished, his wish a touch away, he shows zero relief, he acts like he is too late again, desperate to help him.

There is no 'Gon is invincible. He heals super fast from everything.' mentality anymore, and even the hope he has been clinging to that 'Nanika is amazing, she can heal Gon' gets destroyed.

Is just him and the brutal reminder Gon can fall.

So when Gon gets up, against all odds, Killua is happy. The joy is stronger than his grief.

He downplays his worry, and keeps it casual, when he tells Gon to watch out for himself, but he is genuinely happy when Gon thanks him.

That's what I believe Killua really wanted from the start, not an apology but a thank you. It always hit him hard when Gon thanks him, be it when Killua is happy, or at his lowest:

Killua just didn't believe he deserved a "thank you", not after being put far too many responsibilities on himself and drowning in failures. But now, things are okay.

For as difficult as Killua's life is, he does like to focus on the good, so when he talks to Gon, who is alive and no longer blinded by grief, while being able to hold on to his little sister's hand, who is happy and free, he has no regrets, it was no problem. He would do it again and again and again for them, and Gon showing appreciation of what he has done is the cherry on top.

Killua doesn't really care about the apology anymore, because he already understands Gon didn't want to hurt him, he has been by Gon's side for years, and he knows better than anyone that Gon is a kind boy who loves his friends very much, and is far too harsh on himself.

So Killua acknowledges his pain but he keeps it light-hearted and brief. He doesn't want his best friend to focus on this, as Gon is prone to, so after Gon gets on his knees to apologize, Killua thanks him.

Which is something Killua rarely does, most of his thank yous are either casual or in monologues Gon isn't privy to. But he want to focus on the good he gained, on how his adventures and feelings for Gon are what let him take the needle out and go to Alluka's rescue instead of how he learned to fear loss.

He believes Gon is just as important to Alluka's rescue as Alluka was to his recovery. And he acknowledged Gon's issues but still value him.

So he does what he has always appreciated, and lets Gon know how valuable he is. Hurt or not, he always wants what's best for Gon. To cheer him up, to put his mind at ease.

And now that things have gotten more peaceful, they both decided that's what they focus on, on how valuable the other is. How much they enjoy each other's company and how hard it is to go their separate ways.

Even what Ging says about "What I was I looking for isn't what I ended up valuing" parallels their arrangement.

This is the end of their journey to travel the world in search of Ging, and the Chimera Ant disaster will definitively mark them, but they are still friends, and proud of it!

Which brings me to Killua's "you're number two" claim.

Personally, I do not believe he is being literal or trying to measure their value when he claims his sister is No.1. He just doesn't want to put too much pressure on Gon when he can tell Gon is still beating himself over how he treated Killua.

Palms's "You're the most important person to Gon" speech broke Killua, it crushed him with pressure, and it wasn't even Gon himself saying. Imagine how bad Gon would feel if Killua said "You're my most important person" or showed in any way how highly he holds Gon after the way Gon had snapped at him.

Add in how Gon already feels indebted to Killua, who had witnessed Gon destroy himself over his debt to Kite, and how hard it is for Gon to let Killua go... I can understand why Killua would want to downplay the situation as much as possible. Make it easier on Gon.

I don't want to downplay Alluka's importance to Killua though, she is the main reason they separate, the one that gives Killua confidence to turn his back on Gon despite how sad they look about diverging their paths, and makes Killua keep going.

Killua had nothing he wanted for a while. Now he wants to take Alluka and Nanika to travel the world, and while Gon is amazing and fun, he is also deeply intertwined with danger.

And Killua already has a lot of danger on his hands.

He needs a break from danger. From stress.

He can't protect Alluka and Nanika, while keeping an eye on Gon in their usual adventures. And he can't let himself go wild with Illumi on the hunt.

His priority is to keep Alluka safe and happy. Show her a taste of freedom and all the fun he knows exists out there.

And Killua is emotionally smart too, for as much as he is attached to Gon, I think he does realize they need time away. They will see each other again, they promised.

but right now they are too dependent.

[anabdaniels]

So fitting for happily ever after

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Summary: You got jealous because of a past situation with his secretary, so Jack makes sure to calm you down aka Jack eats reader on his office desk.

Word counting: 1.9k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, reader curses in another language (translations provided at the end).

A/N: First things first I made reader cursing in Portuguese because my Brazilian ass can't find English curse words to sound offensive enough hahaha. Whatever, the idea of writing this came while I was listening to some wild Reddit stories so...

Divider from: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

You could barely feel the ground under your feet as you walked inside the ranch, boiling in pure anger, the 30 minutes in the car on your way home for sure didn’t help the thousands of thoughts going through your brain.

“Jack Daniels.” You called more loudly than you would normally as you entered the bedroom. Jack promptly looked at you in complete confusion as he finished putting his t-shirt on.

“Something wrong, honey?” he asked calmly, despite the crease between his eyebrows.

“Can you please explain to me what kind of fucking business have you been doing at your damn job?” you asked mad, but keeping your tone under control the best you could.

“What’s the problem, sugar? What has made you so upset?” he questioned with one hand resting on the dresser and the other on his hip.

“The problem is that aquela vaca do caralho…” you stopped and took a deep breath, not wanting to lose your composure “Your dear little secretary talked to me at the fucking pharmacy and made sure to let me know that you have been fucking her.” You could feel your stomach twisting only with the idea of it.

“I expected you to know she lied to you.” Jack said calmly, even knowing that the situation was delicate.

“Then can you explain to me how the fuck she knows you have a single freckle on your left inner thigh?” you questioned concerningly calm.

“Honey, the situation ain’t like you’re probably imagining.” Jack answered in a soft tone.

“C’mon, you’ll tell me that she stumped and accidentally fell sat on your dick? Não fode, Daniels.” you rolled your eyes, both hands lying on your hips; Jack had to breathe calmly to not laugh at your bold statement, aware that laughing would only complicate his situation.

“My love, I can assure you that all that happened was a simple one-night stand a couple of years before we met and nothing more.” Jack kept his calm, even though he was already planning the reprimanding and possible dismissal he would give to his secretary the next time he saw her.

“Haven’t I asked you a thousand times if you had something with her because she always acted very pick me around you? And you denied it every time.” You inquired raising your eyebrows and tilting your head slightly, still not amused by his answer.

“I didn’t think would be relevant to tell you this since it happened once and didn’t have any relevance.” Jack said sincerely, almost starting to worry about all that.

“Where?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“Where?” Jack repeated confused.

“Where did you fucked her?” you questioned once more, making the question the clearer possible.

“At her apartment…” he answered seeming completely clueless of which was your goal with that.

“At least some good news, I haven’t slept on the same bed as that bitch.” You squinted at the very moment Jack chuckled and approached you.

“Now can you calm down a little bit, for god's sake?” he spoke while resting his hands on your upper arms, softly rubbing your skin.

“Oh if I wasn't calm, your nose would have been broken a long time ago.” You rolled your eyes as he kept a goofy smile, holding you by the waist.

“Didn’t know you were that jealous ‘bout me.” Jack made sure to tease you with that smug tone.

“You’re lucky that I’m calmer than most girls back home. Some of them would’ve already put sugar on your car’s tank or sold your limited-edition Stetsons for 20 dollars on eBay.”

“Good thing I don't intend to make any serious mistake.” He joked and laughed when you seemed not happy with it. “Ease your heart, Mrs. Daniels. I have no intention to even look at any woman that ain’t my gorgeous wife.” Jack assured calmly and leaned to kiss the tip of your nose.

“You better. I imagine that even being sterilized, you still like to have both of your testicles.” You stated slightly raising your eyebrows.

“I do.” He confirmed seriously, making both of you laugh.

Despite being the one who cooked almost 100% of the meals, Jack wasn’t the biggest fan of doing the groceries and organizing them in the pantry, and since you would do anything but cook, you assumed those tasks. Once at the supermarket parking lot with your phone and shop list on hand, you realized you had forgotten your wallet at home. Already mumbling all the curse words you knew while starting your car, you remembered that Jack was at Statesman, which, despite being out of the city too, was way closer than the ranch.

Once you arrived at the distillery and got to the floor of Jack’s office, you were happily surprised when you didn’t see his dubious character secretary at the front desk, but the sympathetic lady you used to talk a lot every time you had to wait for Jack to get out of some meeting.

You walked calmly to Jack’s office, knocking on the door and getting in as you heard his voice telling you to do it, stopping in front of his desk and waiting for him to look at you.

“Honeybee.” Jack smiled openly as he saw you and leaned back on his chair, taping one of his thighs. Without hesitation you moved to sit sideways on his lap, letting your arms rest on his shoulders. “What brings my dear wife here today?”

“My shitty memory to be honest.” You admitted, tilting your head slightly “I was on my way to do the groceries and realized I forgot my wallet at the ranch.”

“Oh, I see.” He answered with a soft chuckle, grabbing his wallet and giving you his bank card.

“Just for the record, I was planning to pass on some other places after it, so…” you were ready to start a little justification speech, still not having completely lost the habit of thinking that you should have a complex reason to buy something, but Jack didn’t give you the chance to even start with it.

“It’s okay, sugar, don’t worry your pretty head with this. If my dear wife can’t have a little fun with my card, then what am I working for?” Jack winked at you with a sideway smile and leaned to press a soft kiss on your lips.

“Fine, I’ll remember this.” You chuckled while playing with a lock of his hair “Speaking about work, I haven't seen your dear secretary around.” You mentioned it with a bit of sarcasm.

“She got transferred to the city branch.” Jack explained calmly, resting both hands on your waist.

“I imagine she’s missing her beloved boss.” You said with a slightly annoyed grimace.

“Honey…” he laughed quietly and kissed the curve of your neck.

“I’m just stating the reality.” You shrugged “I wonder if you really haven’t taken a bite of her among shifts.” At that point, you were just wanting to mess with him a bit.

“Well, I’ll summarize my answer simply saying that all of my office furniture has been christened with you.” Safe to say it got you out off guard; you didn’t doubt the fact that death would be a more considerable option for Jack if the other option was cheating on you, but you were aware that he had a life before you and that new information was something you were not expecting.

“Now, that’s the kind of news I like to receive on a turbulent day.” You admitted with a wide smile.

“Good, now ease your jealous, y’know I’d kiss the ground you walk if you asked me to.” He finished the phrase with a soft nibble on your shoulder, making you squirm a bit on his lap.

“Personally, I’d prefer you to use your mouth for other stuff.”

“Now tell me something I don’t know.” Jack teased and faster than the blink of an eye, you were sat on his desk, his hands all over you and his mustache tickling the sensitive skin that was exposed on your cleavage. You tried to keep your breath slow, aware that making any loud sound wouldn’t be a good idea. Both of your hands dived on Jack’s hair, your fingers tangling on the brown strands as you got more softened by his touch.

With no ceremony, Jack sneaked his hands under your skirt, taking off your panties and moving his fingers to your pulsing core as his other hand quickly rested over your mouth to suppress your pleased noise, which wasn’t very helpful to your self-control, since the feeling of his huge calloused hand covering your mouth and a good part of your face just helped your dirty thoughts to go further.

Enjoying the view of your body softening, Jack kept his fingers working between your legs, smirking at every single spasm of your hips. Conscious about how close you were to losing control of your noises, you bit the palm of Jack’s hand, sinking your teeth more into his skin as two of his fingers slid inside you and his thumb rubbed your swollen clit.

Yes, you knew that all those papers with the Statesman logo spread over his desk probably were important, but you weren’t giving a shit about that fact at that moment, letting one of your hands crumple the nearest pile of pages. Caring less than you, Jack decided to move further, kneeling on the floor so his head was placed between your thighs. You didn’t have the time to catch your breath before his tongue was buried in your wet core and you managed your body reactions the best you could, pulling his hair, smashing the papers on the desk, and keeping your bite on the palm of his hand.

Your eyes rolled back as your eyelids fell close, your mind doing you no favor as you thought about the fact that, even being the charming boss who could have spent a good time with half of the Statesman staff during his office hours, you were the first person to have that kind of moment with him at his office, and the meeting room, and the warehouse of barrels…

Seeming to know that you were deeply stuck on the moment, Jack didn’t spare his efforts, keeping his fingers and mouth working rhythmically on your throbbing cunt, getting more pleased as he felt your thighs squeezing his head more and more at the same pace your fingers twisted a huge portion of his hair, causing a slight pain Jack enjoyed deeply.

You got the last straw when his fingers curled inside you, providing you with the single push you needed to get over the edge, involuntarily moving your hips and letting out an audible moan, feeling your whole body starting to melt as Jack slowed his motion until completely stop, needing a few seconds to process what was going on when he sat back on his chair and pulled you to his lap, letting you nestle between his arms and kissing the top of your head.

“Can I ask a question?” your voice came out quiet after a moment.

“Of course, love.” Jack answered promptly while moving one hand to caress your back.

“I’m getting this treatment every time I show up to ask you for money?” you looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Only if you’re all jealous for no reason.” He answered with a cocky grin, leaning forward to give you a soft peck on the lips.

Translations: Aquela vaca do caralho- that fucking bitch Não fode- don't fuck/mess with me

Tagging: @missladym1981