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#and ever since i stopped caring about anything and i realized i can simply Not do things if i don't want to
tardis--dreams · 1 year
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I hate small classes. I feel like i should let my lecturer know i won't come to class today just because we're already very few people
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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uzurakis · 4 months
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hello!
Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).
THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!
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featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.
n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x
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GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.
“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”
gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”
you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”
“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”
“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”
his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”
“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”
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RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.
“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”
he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”
your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.
“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”
he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”
sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”
“especially my woman.”
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ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.
“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”
bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”
but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”
you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”
“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”
feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”
“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”
you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”
“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”
“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”
“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”
fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”
“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”
your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”
the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”
“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.
after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”
“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”
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@uzurakis
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grlpartdoll · 1 month
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part 2 :]
Can you imagine, after years of providing for the army — sort of old and a little bit grey — John Price, deciding to establish his own traveling agency.
He knows a lot of special spots, and knows too much about the history of the world. So he figures, after his honorable discharge from the military, that.. well, why not make money out of it?
His company grows quickly, eventually Soap and Gaz also decide that they've had enough, so they join, and the company grows again — under their careful direction.
They have an office building ten stories high now, and Ghost is the last to join after a lot of convincing (and an injury to his knee, but no one mentions that. At all.)
Price is their CEO, Gaz the marketing director, Soap the head of the client services and management teams, and Ghost becomes a Price's right hand.
Price knows he's not getting any younger, so he's steadily training Ghost to take his place, and getting Soap and Gaz used to the idea, too.
He'd asked Kyle, first, if he would like the position, to which he kindly denied and said he liked this — his own team, being able to do something that was pretty and purposeful for once.
Soap hadnt even let Price ask. He'd pointed to Ghost, during one of the meetings, and simply said ; "That' the big guy's job. Keep me outta' f'it."
So to Simon it went.
Since the transition is rough, and much more than Ghost — Simon — can handle all at once, Price makes him hire an assistant.
Comes in ; You!
Simon expects an old, cranky lady with office experience.
Instead he gets you, sunshiny, young — kind and with experience, sure, but so fucking clumsy.
You're still bright-eyed at your age, still have that sparkle in the depth of your twin stars. Ghost envies it, almost. If he didn't know what he did about the world, Simon would be glad to be like you. But unfortunately for him, he knew just how being innocent could harm someone.
Which is why he's out to break your little heart and your innocence.
Doesn't greet you back in the morning when you're all sing-songy, bidding the team that works in front of Simon's closed office a "goooood mornin'! I got donuts!"
Doesn't even look up from his pile of paperwork as you put down the tea on his desk — exactly how he likes it.
Just grunts as you go over what he needs to do on that specific day, the meetings he has, and the people he needs to call back.
But you don't let that deter you. You sit at your little desk just opposite of his, little kitten heels tip-tapping the whole way there. Maybe your hips sway a little. It's not like he was looking long enough to know, or anything.
Anyway — he's a horrible boss. Snappy. Angry. Grunt-y, and silent. He makes it known that he's disappointed in you when you make mistakes — but he always makes sure to go above and beyond what a normal boss should be. Always making sure you know that you're 'makin a mess on his carpet.' with your outside heels (you don't have the money to get inside and outside ones. So you wear yours inside and outside.) or that 'this chart is all wrong. Redo it before going home.' (you have a date tonight. It's 7pm, and you're supposed to stop working at five. Your date is at 7:30.)
It's no surprise that eventually, you start to be quieter around him — more avoidant, and certainly more skittish.
But it gets especially worse on that one day.
It was raining — you'd had the worst morning ever. Your shoes were all wet, including your socks. You'd dropped your coffee on your way in (sorry, receptionist) and you'd forgotten the report sheets you needed at home — a hour bus ride away.
Simon's knee aches worse on the pouring days, and he's more snappy, so you're usually careful around him.
But today, you've had enough, so you don't even bother greeting him, don't bother a smile. You don't even add any little joyful notes to his schedule while you rattle it off to him.
When lunchtime ticks by, you realize you forgot your lunch, so you have to order in, and you know it'll take longer, so you do extra work in the meantime, while you wait. Simon doesn't get up either.
When thirty minutes tick by and you still haven't gotten up, and your delivery person still hasn't reached the building, he looks up over the rim of his glasses, grunting.
"What're you doing."
"Pardon?" You ask, frowning.
"You usually are eating by now. Are you late in your work?"
"No—"
"Because, I've noticed you put in a notice for extra hours. 11 hours this week. And yet." He ticks his tongue at the pile of paperwork on your desk. At the mess you call your order. "Look' atcha. Right mess. And I still don't have last month's expenses chart I was supposed to get on Monday."
You lower your head. You were admittedly a bit in over your head — but that was because he refused to give your work to anyone else like Price had done it. John had always made sure the technical team handled most of what you were handed off now, and he'd also always made sure it was separated equally, so that not only one person had to shoulder all of the work.
But Simon — mister Riley, had it out for your head, and refused for his paperwork to be done by anyone but him and his assistant.
"I'm sorry, but —"
He grunts again. Removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's not normal. If you're not capable of keeping up with this company, with the workload, then I suggest—"
You blink. This — this was the wave that broke the damn dam. "Oh, fuck off!"
Tears immediately began pouring from you then, fat heavy tears that you didn't even know had been waiting to be freed, rage swarming your senses as you picked up your bag from the floor beside you. You don't even feel your hands.
You stand from your chair, still with wet shoes that squeak uncomfortably under the sudden pressure and leave, slamming the door to his office behind you.
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wndaswife · 4 months
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To your stepmother’s surprise, you come home from a Christmas party asking for her to care for you; it’s been months since her wedding to your father and months since you’ve paid her any attention at all.
Tags: angst, kiiinda fluffy, stepmom wanda loving you so so much, almost nearly unrequited love
drabble for matriarchal disturbance
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I forgot my keys. 
You texted Wanda some time during the evening once you realized you had forgotten them, and since she was the only one at home until tomorrow, she’d have to let you in. Or at least keep the door unlocked. 
Oh no. It’s okay, I have work to do so I can unlock the door when you come home. :)
It was Christmas break and you were home for just a little, so you were out drinking with some friends from high school and some of their new college friends. 
Wanda had texted you a week or two prior asking when you might be coming home. You didn’t answer — you didn’t ever feel in the mood to talk with your stepmother — but you knew it was still her curiosity talking through your father when he called a few days after you left her on read, asking the same question. 
They were both happy to have you home, but Wanda particularly, though you could tell she was trying not to be overbearing. 
She offered to make you tea or coffee once you were unpacking and offered to make you whatever you wanted for dinner that evening, and very subtly tried asking if you’d be home all break or if you might consider staying longer than when you planned to leave. 
Your holiday break ended much later than the day you were planning on leaving, but you didn’t want to stay around much longer than was necessary — you’d spend New Year’s at home, and then you’d leave. 
You weren’t really excited to be home, but you weren’t so cruel as to not come back for the holidays. 
Still, you weren’t really looking forward to having to deal with your stepmother’s longing, curious looks, always wanting to talk with you or bring something up but not knowing how to and not wanting to spoil her limited time with you. 
The feeling you got from seeing her look at you from the corner of your eye wasn’t necessarily all a form of annoyance, but some kinds of pity too, and perhaps some guilt. 
There was something about the Christmas party that sorta had you feeling down, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, though perhaps it was simply because there were many things that had bothered you and you just couldn't pin it down to one thing. 
It was something about meeting some of your friends’ other friends, and even some of their new partners. You hadn’t drunk anything, and perhaps it would’ve been worse for you if you did — you tended to get a bit more emotional while drunk. 
All in all, you just felt… left out. And like you were missing something, or like you never wanted to be there at all. 
You wanted to be somewhere you belonged and where your presence was not only enjoyed but needed — somewhere it was warm and loving and kind and soft. 
While seeing all your friends together with their new ones and their partners, you just kept thinking of Wanda.
And you really hated yourself for it. 
You wanted to go home to see her, and you knew you couldn’t stop it, because you’d been thinking of her all night. So you drank enough to feel just a little drunk — to get just enough confidence to make a bad decision — and went back home early. 
From the window facing the street, you could see through the curtains that the living room lamp was on.
Wanda opened the door when you knocked like she said she would. From the door, you could see a book laying on the couch. She smiled at the sight of you. 
“Did you have fun?” she asked immediately, stepping back a bit to allow you in. Then she said sympathetically after taking a better look at you, “You look a bit tired.”
You thanked the stars for having taken a few shots before you left. 
You stepped into the house and wrapped your arms around Wanda, feeling the warmth of her knitted sweater against your cheek, then against the tip of your nose when you turned your head to bury your face in the crook of her neck. Her hair tickled the space between your eyebrows. 
There was a split moment before she wrapped her arms around you that would have been indiscernible if you hadn’t felt how immediate her embraces were a million-and-one times before. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” Wanda asked, having turned her head to look down at you so the breath of her soft whispered voice blew warm and gentle against your ear. 
“I wanna be your baby again,” you confessed — stupidly. 
Wanda tried to speak immediately for how she felt deep in her chest when you spoke the words she had only dreamt would come out of your mouth ever since the wedding, but found she could speak only in stutters. 
Then she finally said, “You’ll always be my baby, Y/N.”
You hugged her tighter and you knew that if you hadn’t been just a little bit drunk, you would’ve been angry at what she had just said. But now, it could nearly make you cry. 
“Can you bring me to bed?” you mumbled quietly into her neck, still seemingly a bit embarrassed through your drunken state. 
“Of course,” she answered, smiling down at you. This was the closest you’d been to her in months, and likely the longest you’ve spoken to her with undivided attention in that same span of time too. She almost didn’t want to move at all for how you’d unwrap your arms from around her once you headed up the stairs together. 
You unwrapped yourself from around her body and she closed and locked the front door; you’d literally just been standing embracing each other in the wide-open doorway for several moments. 
Then you swiped at your eyes when you pulled away in case you accidentally had cried. 
Wanda smiled at you sweetly, and a bit tiredly too, and you knew she must’ve finished her work a little bit ago and decided to stay up to wait for you. She took your hand and you walked up the stairs beside each other in silence. 
She squeezed your hand and you squeezed back, and Wanda looked over her shoulder at you shyly as you stared down at the steps of the staircase. 
“Can I help you get ready for bed?” she asked once you both arrived in front of the washroom. 
You nodded silently then looked up at her with a small smile. “I just have to get my stuff from my bags,” you told her. Then, a bit hesitantly, you let go of her hand and walked towards your bedroom. 
Wanda turned on the washroom light and paced around a little, playing with the knitted fabric of her sweater nervously and checking her hair a bit in the mirror, and even trying to repress a tiny smile as she couldn’t help but make comparisons to how it all used to be before the wedding. 
But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself — after all, every day after this would be different, and whatever had caused you to come seeking her comfort wasn’t guaranteed to happen again from tonight onwards. 
You came into the washroom with a little bag of your toiletries and started unpacking them, starting with makeup wipes and face wash then everything else. 
“Come lean against the counter,” Wanda said, and you did. She began removing your makeup with one of your makeup wipes, the fingers of her other hand delicately perched under your chin to keep your face in the light. 
She was gentle with how she swiped against your face, and thorough with taking all the makeup off. 
Wanda was always so nice and gentle. In taking care of you, and in treating you in any way, really, she always did it as if you were delicate, and special to her too. She never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you feel like you weren't the most important thing in the world to her. 
You felt like crying, but really didn’t want to ruin how casual you were trying to make everything seem. 
She must’ve noticed how your eyes were filling with tears because once she finished she set the makeup wipe down and held you to her chest wordlessly, running her hand down the side of your head soothingly with her other arm wrapped around your waist. 
She seemed to understand that you still had your reservations about being with her like this again, and that you weren’t trying not to get into things too quickly. 
Even so, she couldn’t help but… hope, even just a little, that the feeling of how she held you and brought you close might make you miss her enough to want to be her baby again for more than just an evening. 
“I’m gonna brush my teeth and stuff,” you mumbled and straightened out of her hold, swiping at your eyes again.
Wanda packed up your makeup wipes and slid it back into the toiletry bag you brought. 
Quietly, you asked, “Can I sleep with you?”
You weren’t really sure where to look when you asked, so you tried to keep busy getting your toothbrush ready. 
But when Wanda replied with a gentle, almost eager, ‘Of course,’ you couldn’t help but look over at her to see her smiling at you.
You looked away while she told you that she would also change and get ready while she waited for you — her shared bedroom had a washroom in it. 
Wanda felt ridiculous for how she felt in her stomach — a familiar fluttering feeling dancing around where it would when you were still together. Sometimes Wanda reasoned the memory of the feeling up to a fantasy, that perhaps she may have recalled it as differently as it had been for it’d been so long since she’d felt it. 
But it was exactly the same as she recalled. 
And it was only with you. 
She hadn’t realized she had been smiling until she heard you come into the bedroom, and she instinctively relaxed her face so as to not be overzealous and overwhelm you. 
“Are you ready for bed?” she asked, closing the door of the walk-in closet as she stood in her pajama shorts and tank. 
You nodded then looked away from her for how happy you felt to be asked that, to soon be adorned by Wanda’s kisses and touched by her gentle, loving hands and embraced by her arms the moment you got into bed. 
Wanda seemed to be hesitant at your reluctance for a moment. Her fingers twitched with the urge to walk over and embrace you, to kiss your lips and lead you to her bed. But instead, restraining herself, she went to bed first, getting under the covers and looking over at you encouragingly. 
Silently, you followed after closing the bedroom door. 
She turned off the lamp on her side and you hesitated for a moment before you reached over and did the same. 
Then you were blanketed in the darkness of the bedroom, and for a moment you couldn’t see Wanda in your peripheral vision at all; you could for a moment construe the feelings of blankets under your hands as being in your own bed instead of hers. 
For a moment you felt glad to imagine you had made it all up, but then you felt terribly disappointed and lonely again. 
Without Wanda, it was always just a little bit… lonely. 
But the burst of sudden feelings was contained only within a few moments’ time, for your eyes soon adjusted and you could see the shadow of your stepmother beside you. 
She reached out for you, her hand moving under the blankets and placing it on your bare thigh. She moved closer. 
“Don’t be nervous,” she said quietly. “It’s okay.”
You’d been here before — in Wanda’s bed without your dad being home, in her company, in the spotlight of her undivided attention, in the warm shower of all her heart could pour out for you and only you. 
It was was familiar with Wanda and you knew it for it was the closest thing you’d felt in a while to being somewhere you were certain you belonged in. 
Then she added, “I want you here, Y/N.”
Like you had asked her, Wanda babied you — she cared for you. Her other hand wrapped around your waist and she slowly urged your body to lay down beside her. 
She didn’t stop there; she moved herself onto her elbow only slightly to gain height over you, then cupped your furthest cheek with her hand. She kissed your face gently, tenderly, on your temple then on your cheekbone, and your chin. 
Not your lips — not unless it was you who made an advance towards her first. 
You turned and wrapped an arm around her torso securely, burying your face in her chest. She lowered herself back down and wrapped her arms around you immediately. 
Squeezing your eyes shut, you muttered against her, “I love you.”
In the morning when you arose before her, you carefully peeled yourself away from a soundly-sleeping Wanda. There was a pang in your chest as you sat at the edge of the bed, recalling how she held you close after you had told her you loved her.
She held you in a way that communicated desperation and longing; it wasn’t only sweet and tender like she always was, but pained, too. She had cradled the back of your head to her chest, rubbed your upper back and pressed her lips against the top of your head. 
She might’ve nearly said that she loved you a fourth time, though you presumed she had tried to contain the way she wanted to pour herself out for you right then and there. 
You turned and watched as she dozed, her body the very same that you were held against through the night, the same you had thrown yourself into her arms of and were accepted and loved and cared for like you wanted, like Wanda wanted. 
How at peace she seemed having gone to sleep with you in her arms, with all she had been longing for warm in her embrace and sleeping in the eternal comfort of her loving. 
If you were honest with yourself, and you tried to be for how often you lied to Wanda, you didn’t think it was a lie when you told her you loved her, for you still did. 
And you still could, inviting her over to your place and responding to her calls and texts when you were away, letting her care for you and at the very least not pretend she wasn’t always looking at you, waiting only for your eye contact as cue for her to bring up one of the dozens of questions and worries she had about the life that you no longer shared with her — which was to say, all of it. 
Wanda stirred and her fingers flexed outwards slightly, reflecting a slowly-rising sun’s beams against her wedding ring, before she relaxed again, still in deep sleep. 
Just under an hour later once Wanda woke up to find you gone, she texted asking where you were. 
When she texted, you knew that she must have looked first to see if you had moved to your own bed, for you had left and decided to go on a drive. 
She messaged: Have you gone out?
Sitting in a parking lot of a walking trail with the breakfast you picked up, the sun only just having fully risen, you texted back. 
Forgot something at Kate’s last night.
She asked if you were going to eat breakfast there or if you would be home to have breakfast with her; she’d make some now so it could be ready by the time you got back. 
You tried to keep eating after choosing to leave your stepmother on read, but soon lost your appetite. Instead, you went on a walk that lasted until the early afternoon when your dad got back home. 
As you had planned, you went back to your place on the second of January, and that evening wasn’t ever brought up. 
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fr3sh-tragedies · 5 months
Text
Good Luck Charm
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[Arcane] Jinx x Female Reader
Summary: Jinx has been told she's a mistake and a...well, a jinx her whole life, which is why it's such a surprise when you tell her she's your good luck charm.
Word Count: 3.09k Content Warnings: A small breakdown Category: Angst + Heavy fluff || Oneshot
[A/N]: Not proofread. Just wanted a quick break in between characters again. I couldn't stop myself from writing for this dork, especially after seeing the teaser for season two.
Enjoy!
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 “Alrighty, toots, I think I’m gonna head to bed. You wanna come with, or you gonna stay up a bit longer?” You turned your head over to glance at Jinx, watching as she repeatedly turned her chair partially back and forth with her eyes fixed on you. Smiling warmly, you shrugged. “Well, I’m not tired just yet, and I wanted to finish this book,” you started, watching from the corner of your eye as she seemed to slump down at your words already. “But I can just keep reading in bed.”
Jinx stood and let out a small cheer, trotting over to you and gently taking ahold of your wrist to tug you toward the bedroom you often crashed in. Ever since you had grown close to the “loose cannon” of the undercity, things in your life had rapidly changed. It started off simple – you would spend far more time hanging out with her than anyone else. Then, as things started to develop between the two of you, you began staying the night almost every night with Jinx cuddled up against you as you slept. Even when she couldn’t sleep, you could feel her arms wrapped around your shoulders while she traced random patterns against your skin.
When Jinx had told Silco of your relationship, you feared the worst, already preparing to write your will or find a way to escape his wrath. Surprisingly, though, he was rather accepting. When you asked Jinx about it in private, she told you she believed it was because he had seen how happy she had been ever since you showed up. A few days later, her theory was confirmed when Silco had called you into his office to set rules about dealing with Jinx and her issues with trust.
He warned you that Jinx could get extremely clingy and would get overprotective of you, which you had already noticed she had begun to do, so you simply nodded. He continued to speak of things such as her hallucinations and wish to keep her past a secret. You agreed to all of the terms he had set to be with his daughter, unaware of the figure stationed above you on her usual platform. Her eyes were trained solely on you, legs swinging back and forth as she let herself rest on her stomach. With her head cradled in her palms, a wide grin made its way to her lips as you calmly agreed to take care of her.
It seemed, however, that she had done the opposite, meaning she seemed to take care of you more than the other way around. More often than not, if you were outside of her hideout, it would come across more as possessive than anything. She’d blurt out insults and impulsively pick fights with people who threatened or flirted with you.
Once they realized who they were dealing with, they backed off instantly. The few poor souls who decided to test their luck suddenly went missing, as well as Jinx for a short time, and then were never seen or heard from again. You had learned to come to terms with her reckless and apathetic behavior towards outsiders rather quickly.
“Trinket? Hello? You in there, or… did ya leave this planet?” You blinked, glancing back over at the blue-haired girl as she waved her hand in your face.
“Hm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about what’s going on in my book. I’m near the end, so everything is getting chaotic.” She snickered and hooked her arm around your shoulders as she led you into the bedroom. “Ah, then you’ll have to let me borrow that book sometime. You know I love a bit of chaos. Or a lot of it.” You smiled at her and rolled your eyes, playfully bumping against her and earning another chuckle.
As she plopped down to sit in her spot on the bed, she watched you silently while you flipped your book back open and sat on the other side of the mattress. Once you had leaned back against the pillows, it didn’t take long before you felt a head land gently on your shoulder. A quick look down let you know Jinx had already bundled up under the covers and shuffled over to cuddle against you for the night. With weary eyes, she peered down at the pages of your book, briefly skimming over the short excerpt of the story she could see.
Soon after, she let out a yawn and tucked her head further against your neck. “G’night, sweets. Love you.” You beamed down at her and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head. “Love you too, hun. Sleep well.”
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By the time you had finally woken back up the next day, Jinx had already been up for a few hours. She hadn’t left the bed, but she was tracing patterns and words into your arms and back. When you shifted and yawned, she smiled and perked up rather quickly, sitting up in her spot and peeking down at you. Once you had rolled over to look her in the eye, her grin only grew. “Mornin’, toots. Did you sleep well?” You nodded and sat up, yawning again.
“Yeah, what about you?” She shrugged and toyed with the hem of your sleeve. “Eh, I slept okay. I got kinda restless after a while and woke up, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep.”
You nodded at her words. After a while of you trying to keep your eyes open, you felt Jinx lean against you and tug you close. “I don’t wanna leave to go work on those stupid experiments,” she confessed with a frown. “I just want to stay in here with you. I wish I could come down with you to your job instead.” With a small smirk, you raised a brow and glared over at her. “Oh? And why’s that?” She smirked back at you and slipped her hand down to lace your fingers with her own. “‘Cause I could keep you safe. I could beat up all the pervs that keep trying to get their nasty paws on you.”
A gentle chuckle escaped you as you pulled her further into your side. “Yeah, that’s what makes you my good luck charm. Nothing seems to go wrong for me when you’re near.” You had expected another teasing remark of some kind, though nothing came. Instead, you were greeted with silence. After a while of not receiving any kind of acknowledgment of what you had said, you looked down at Jinx. You blinked in surprise when you saw her gazing right back up at you, eyes filled with a concoction of emotions that couldn’t seem to even out.
Her brows furrowed together. One moment, she seemed confused, and the next, she seemed upset or in disbelief. Similarly to her eyes, her eyebrows couldn’t focus on which emotion to express.
“Uh, hun? You okay?”
“What’d you call me?”
“What?”
“What did you call me?”
You continued to stare at her, unsure of what you were supposed to say. “I called you ‘hun.’” She shook her head and lifted it from your shoulder to be eye level with you. “No, before that. What did you call me before that?” It took a moment for you to recall what you had said a mere moment ago. The confusion of the new situation had made it hard to wrack your memory. “‘My good luck charm?’”
She was silent for a few minutes, which felt like hours with how thick the tension had grown.
“You think I’m lucky? That I’m a lucky charm to you? Do you really think that?”
An uneasy smile and chuckle left your lips. “Well, yeah, of course I do. I mean, I always love being around you, and because of all you do for me, everything seems to go right when you’re around. You really are like a being of good luck to me.”
She seemed troubled at that, which certainly was not what you had expected. Tears welled up in her eyes and prompted them to grow glossy, though she fought them back. “But – no, I’m not lucky. I’m, I mean, my name is “Jinx” for goodness sake! I’m not good. I’m a horrible person. I mess everything up. How could you possibly believe that I’m a good luck charm? I don’t understand.” You felt your nerves spike, recognizing that she was at the beginning stages of another episode. “Woah, hey,” you whispered, placing a hand softly on her shoulder in an attempt to ground her back into reality before she could fly too far away from the present.
“No, I’m not lucky, I’m a Jinx. I’m the opposite of lucky – I’m unlucky. I didn’t – no, please, I’m not. No, shut up! She’s not trying to – stop it already!” Unintentionally, you leaned back, making sure to keep your hand in place. It seemed like Mylo had taken over again, throwing insult after insult at her and flooding her mind with false realities.
“Love, I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She glared at you, eyes fixed on you in front of her, though she seemed to be staring so far away. Her eyes flickered as though she were reading some sort of script, incoherent mumbles rolling off her tongue. “No, you shouldn’t be… you didn’t – shut up! You shouldn’t be the one apologizing!”
You remained silent, waiting for the right time to chime in as Mylo continued to torment her. Although you had no idea what he was telling her, you could get a general idea based on the few words you could make out in her sputtering.
It took forever, but she ultimately calmed down, panting for breath and clutching handfuls of hair. When she came back to her senses, she found you holding both of her hands to prevent her from tearing her strands out again. Sometime in between her episode and her break into reality, she had begun copying your breathing the way you had helped her practice each time she had gone through it in the past. At length, she sighed and let her eyes bore down into her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
Softly, you cupped her face in your hands and lifted her head up to look her in the eye. She shifted her focus away from you, unable to meet your gaze. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not mad.” The feeling of the pads of your thumbs grazing across her cheeks to wipe her tears away brought her a feeling of relief. Her tense shoulders drooped down after she sighed once again.
Moments passed. She finally forced herself to meet your eye. “Did you really mean it?” She whispered with a broken tone. “That you think I’m lucky?” You nodded with a weak grin. Again, tears pricked her eyes, though she leaned forward and buried her face in your shoulder before they could fall. Her arms lifted from her sides, hands grasping at the back of your shirt as she sucked in multiple shaky breaths.
“I’ve always thought you were lucky.”
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Weeks had passed since you had started referring to Jinx as your good luck charm, then it shifted into months, and your list of nicknames began to grow. It became a common occurrence for her to hear you call her “lucky charm,” “charmer,” or even “bluebird.” It seemed as though you were shifting to just focus on positive nicknames instead of entirely pinpointing each play on the words “good luck charm,” though she wasn’t complaining.
She certainly wasn’t used to all of the compliments and the nice names. After all, she had been referred to as a jinx, a screwup, and essentially a burden her entire life up until she met Silco. It would take a while for her to accept what you said as truth, but she had started to come around to the loving nicknames. After a while, she even began to look forward to what you would call her for the day. She had started rubbing off on you in terms of nicknames as well. “Trinket” and “sweets” began to creep into your vocabulary, and she adored the way it sounded rolling off your tongue when it was directed at her.
Soon enough, the positivity had worn down part of her insecurity, so long as she was around you. You made her feel safe and secure, which wasn’t something she was used to either. Often, she could be seen practically bouncing down the halls with a cheesy grin plastered on her face, even if she had just left Silco’s office. Silco and Sevika had definitely taken notice of her sudden shift, and although Sevika didn’t understand why she was so much livelier than normal, Silco found himself smiling more often at the sight of Jinx when she’d suddenly remember the nickname you had chosen for her for the day.
When she’d sit up top on her makeshift platform in Silco’s office, she had to be given reminders in between meetings to settle down. Her legs would swing over the edge and kick at the air rhythmically, and her hands would pat randomly at the wooden planks.
She loved the nicknames, to put it bluntly. She absolutely adored them. Since that night, not once had you referred to her as Jinx. Somehow, even though everyone else called her by her known name, the mere mention of what you were calling her for the day gave her a boost of confidence. Whenever a mission would go wrong, she’d come straight to you to talk about it, then listen with a soft smile as you told her repeatedly how things would be okay and how she’s still your lucky charm.
With how suddenly all the flurry of names were thrown at her, she struggled to pick a favorite. Even so, her energy and overall glee grew daily, even beginning to show in her work. Weapons were crafted more cautiously, produced quicker, and had more expressive markings made by her oil crayons. Sevika didn’t enjoy the increase in enthusiasm, Silco certainly appreciated everything.
He still didn’t fully trust you, though it was growing increasingly obvious to him that you weren’t a threat, and in his eyes, you were there for a reason. You made Jinx happy, and that was all he really wanted in the end. As far as he was concerned, you had his blessing. He knew things could change, but after seeing how you treated her during every emotion she expressed, he figured that was a slim possibility.
As he sat in his office one day, he sighed and ran a hand down his face. The door had closed only a moment ago, and still he could hear the tapping and swaying above him. Leaning back in his chair, he gazed up at Jinx sitting on her small platform, biting back a small smile when he saw her grinning gleefully. “Jinx,” he called out just loud enough for her to hear. She finally turned her attention to him curiously. “Hm?”
“You know you need to be quiet when I have people in here. It’s very distracting with you shuffling around up there.” Jinx chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” He finally allowed himself to smile, catching Sevika off guard from her spot on the sofa. “Why don’t you spend the rest of the day with [Y/N]? You’ve earned a break, both of you.”
Instantly, Jinx dropped from her spot above and landed on Silco’s desk. She crouched down and looked him in the eye. “Really? You’re okay with that?” He nodded. “So long as you two don’t cause any major problems,” he added. She beamed brightly at his words and her eyes lit up. “Thanks!” Within an instant, she turned on her heel and hopped off the desk, already out the door and skipping down the hall to find you.
Silco grinned softly with a small shake of his head. He leaned forward again and motioned for Sevika to shut the door as he picked up a few papers to straighten them.
When Sevika returned to her spot on the sofa, she huffed out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. She bit her tongue with what she wanted to say, but a look of warning from Silco made her waver. “What are you breathing so heavily for?” She waited, trying to rephrase her words before speaking them, but ultimately gave up.
“It’s nothing against either of you. I’ve just never seen her this energetic before, and I’ve seen her get energetic in the past.” To her relief, Silco hummed and smiled. “Yes, she’s certainly been in a better mood as of lately. It’s refreshing, in a way.”
Sevika waited momentarily, unsure of what to say. “You think that girl is the reason she’s been so cheery?” “I know she is. Her name is [Y/N]. She’s known Jinx for a couple of years now, and the two of them have grown quite close in such a short amount of time. I don’t entirely approve of that girl, but Jinx has taken a liking to her, and I’d be a fool to take that away from her.”
Even with her disliking of  the blue-haired girl, Sevika couldn’t help but grin at his words. “Yeah, it is nice to see she’s stable with someone. I was worried she’d drive someone away. [Y/N], was it? She’s patient, and that’s definitely good for someone like Jinx. To be honest, I’m glad they met.”
“Yes, I am as well. I suppose I should include a few of the names [Y/N] has been using to refer to Jinx as when speaking to her. It seems to put her in a better mood, as you’ve said, and I’ve noticed an improvement in her crafts and missions.” A chuckle slipped from Sevika before she could stop it. “Yeah, she hasn’t screwed up another task in a while.”
“Pardon?”
Sevika swallowed and cleared her throat. “Sorry, sir. It was nothing.”
All the while, as they chatted away about her improvement, Jinx trailed down the hallway and all the way to her hideout. When she saw you there, sitting comfortably by her desk in the extra chair she had pulled into the room to have you nearby while she worked, she couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her lips from ear to ear. As she grew closer, she wondered what you would refer to her as that day.
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riki-dazed · 6 months
Text
You get into a bad argument with your boyfriend, Riki. The evening proceeds to end in a very unexpected way.
NSFW smut · block & don't read if you're uncomfortable · toxicity, cursing, pure angsty, smutty filth with a touch of softness at the end,, call it a heart-wrenching rollercoaster, if you will · wc · 1774 · requested
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"You always find something about me to complain about," You cried, throwing your hands in the air as you stormed about Riki's tension-filled room in frustration, looking for your belongings.
"You're being dramatic," He snapped back as his eyes watched you from the door way, his gaze piercing. "Just say you regret ever becoming my girlfriend,"
Something within you snapped after Riki got home in a bad mood and decided to take out his frustrations on you. You couldn't control your emotions, considering it wasn't the first time he had done that. The both of you have already had to deal with a couple of arguments in the short time since you started dating, which was leading you to believe that you just simply weren't compatible for him in that sense. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were worried since the very beginning of the relationship. You and Riki spent many years as very close friends, you loved him dearly. More than any other friend. The thought of a relationship ruining things between the two of you scared you to death, though, Riki reassured you everything would be okay.
Until it wasn't.
His facial expression changed as he noticed you starting to pile clothes into one of your bags, his heart began to sink. He wanted to stop you but he didn't know how to approach the situation, he had never seen you that angry and upset in all of the years he had known you. The longer he watched you irritably pack your belongings, the tighter the feeling within his chest grew. The realization was starting to eat at him. He knew he messed up again, big time.
He watched you silence as your tears didn't stop flowing.
"Good fucking job for ruining this, Riki, I told you countless times how worried I was for us at the start,"
"Can you just stop and fucking talk to me," His voice began to tremble, his hands found their way into his hair and tugged at the strands.
"What's there to talk about? I do regret becoming your girlfriend!"
Although Riki was an emotional person, he was never great at expressing those said emotions. You kept your eyes off him, though, knowing how he affects you when he's upset. You cared for him so deeply, you'd cross oceans if you had to in order to comfort your boy, and by the sound of his voice, you could just tell his nonchalant composure was nowhere to be found anymore.
His tall frame stopped you in your tracks, his hands found their way to your shoulders as he towered over you. For someone so big compared to your frame, his voice sounded small.
"You don't mean that,"
"Get off me," You almost yelled, your eyes stayed focused on the floor, not daring to look at his face. Your body twisted and turned as it tried to get out of his grasp.
After not being able to break out of his hold, your tear-filled eyes finally looked up at Riki's. His bottom lip was quivering, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill. You had never seen his face look like that. Before you could process anything, Riki pulled you into his chest. His arms clung around you tightly, he was so afraid to let you go. Your arms stayed swinging by your sides as you stood against his warm chest, letting out silent cries as your tears continued to pour. Your eyes screwed shut.
Riki couldn't hold his emotions back after scenes of a life without you in it flashed throughout his mind. That was the first time he allowed himself to be so incredibly vulnerable in front of anyone, ever. Even you.
"You don't mean that," Riki repeated, he was crying into the crook of your neck. The sounds of his sniffles only made your tears fall harder. You raised your arms slightly, grasping the sides of his shirt within your hands.
"Y/n," His voice broke the sorrowful, long silence. He lifted his head from where it was settled beside your neck, and wiped at your tears with his thumbs. "Let me show you how much you mean to me,"
Your eyes drifted from his gaze, unsure of how to reply to him, "Riki.."
"Please," He pleaded, attaching his quivering, pillowy lips to one of your tear-stained cheeks.
One thing lead to another, and before you knew it, you were suddenly sat on the edge of Riki's bed. Your face was still struck by pain, you couldn't even force the frown off it. He stood in front of you, pulling his hoodie over his head. Your gaze lifted, eyes scanning him carefully as he revealed his breathtakingly toned body, you were sure it was sculpted by the gods. Silence continued to engulf the tension-filled room as your hands got to work on Riki's belt, one of his hands simultaneously pushed damp strands of hair out of your face. You shuffled your body backwards across the soft sheets, your eyes not leaving his. He climbed onto the bed after stepping out of his jeans, he followed after you and propped his body above yours.
Riki's woeful gaze burned into yours for what felt like an eternity.. Before his lips met yours in a fervent hunger. He kissed you like he had never kissed you before. Your tear-stained cheeks met his ones as he deepened the kiss, your mouth being entirely engulfed by his. Your breaths mingled, hot and heavy as you let his tongue fight against yours. The kiss spoke volumes without words, it expressed every single pent-up emotion he had buried deep within himself.
You couldn't believe this was how he was going to take your virginity, and you, his. While you were painfully upset at him. You thought about how you had different plans for how you wanted your first time to go, though, your focus was shifted back onto Riki as you felt him slightly lift your oversized shirt. He left gentle kisses across the skin on your abdomen, in which left you with chills running up your spine. He then tugged at the waistband of your sweatpants, helping you take them off. He left another trail of wet kisses up your legs and thighs, stopping at your soaked panties, almost drooling over the sight. Riki's eyes, puffy and red, found yours again. You gave him a nod, reassuring him that he could proceed.
His hands tugged the soft fabric down, his lips placing a kiss where your body needed him the most. He slipped a finger between your folds, wanting to ensure you were ready for him. Your body reacted immediately, your hips lifted off the bed and into his touch. He lips traveled up your body, and found their way back to yours in a sweet kiss. He reached a hand between your bodies, tugging at his boxers.
His voice was gentle as you felt him rub his length against your wetness, "Ready?"
"Yeah," You breathed out,
Riki's gaze didn't leave yours as he pushed himself into your core excruciatingly slowly, eliciting a gasp from you. He groaned at the feeling of having you finally wrapped around him. It took him a few moments to bottom out inside, before he waited for you to adjust to his size. He carefully analyzed your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. You were seeing stars at the feeling and size of him.
Riki became alarmed when he noticed your eyes starting to fill with tears yet again, he wasn't aware of the fact that it was due to how much of an emotional mess you were in the moment. You couldn't deny your anger towards him, yet you also couldn't deny the fact that you loved him more than anything and anyone in the world.
"Keep going," You broke the silence. He kissed your tears away before he began to thrust carefully into you, his gaze switching between your eyes and lips. A finger of yours settled on his bottom lip as you scanned his gorgeous features.
"Does it f-feel okay?" He managed to choke out quietly against your finger, as he continued his actions. Your back arched, your chest pushed against his.
Another moan escaped your lips, "More than okay,"
You could feel your release build up over the next few minutes as he repeatedly hit all of the right spots, he was thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands ran along the soft skin of his back, he was so warm. The thin layer of sweat covering him made his skin glisten.
"Y/n," He panted into your ear, from what you could tell, he was very close, "I'm so sorry,"
You were closer.
A short, high-pitched moan fell out of your lips as you felt yourself come undone, Riki's pace quickened as he chased his own high. You choked out a sentence you had been meaning to tell Riki for a long time, in the middle of it all.
"I- I love you," You cried, barely being able to speak, your hands still stuck to the bed sheets,
Riki's gaze shifted back to your face instantaneously, he thought he was hearing things. His lips bit at yours as he pulled out and released all over your tummy, the sticky liquid felt warm against your skin. He felt another tear run down one of his cheeks, he was so overriden with emotions he didn't know what to do with himself.
"I love you so much more," The boy panted, trying to regain his breath as he laid his head on top of you, his chin nuzzling between your clothed breasts.
You pushed his hair out of his face as you raised an eyebrow at him, your voice tired, "But I'm still angry at you,"
His eyes closed as a light chuckle escaped his mouth, gaze soon softening as he continued to watch your face. Your fingers were still within the messy strands of his hair.
"I can live with that, but I can't live without you,"
His statement felt like a stab at your chest, god, you truly did love him.
"I never regretted becoming yours," You sighed as you suddenly remembered the angry sentence you spat at your boyfriend, just to get a reaction out of him for how he emotionally hurt you.
Riki moved his body to place a kiss on the side of your neck. He nuzzled into the space, his arms hung around your figure. He kept you close.
"I can't live without you either, Riki, we'll work through this."
...
Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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blondwhxrewrites · 5 months
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Hello! This is my first time writing in and I just want you to know how much I love love love your blog!!
I was wondering if you’ve ever written anything about brothersbestfriend!Mattheo. I just imagine he’d feel super guilty at first, fooling around with his best friend’s sister. Maybe he’d try to break it off but reader would get all sad and pouty, insisting that her brother will never find out.
Whether the reader is biologically related or adopted is up to you. I also did not intend for it to be this long—ANOTHER ADDITION TO THE PRINCESS MULTIVERSE
Oh my god—You being Theo's pretty younger sister and Mattheo just being absolutely obsessed with you!!! He always thought you were interesting. You've always just kind of been there, kind of tucked in a corner, watching as he, Theo, and Draco played together. You were weird in your own little quirky way—quiet, introverted, but not shy. No, you weren't at all shy, just simply quiet. 
Mattheo always felt drawn to you in a way he really couldn't understand. You two just coexisted with each other, and it stayed that way until his sixth year, when you suddenly became 'beautiful' in the eyes of society. He always knew you were gorgeous, the most beautiful girl he had ever met, but now other boys and even some girls were starting to realize it too. The whole Slytherin gang becomes your impromptu guards on the orders of Theodore Nott. Suddenly, Mattheo is walking you to all of your classes and being forced to watch over you at parties—and that's when it really starts to go downhill for him.
You're the most wonderful being to ever exist, and holy shit, does it hit Mattheo HARD. You tend to ramble about the weirdest things like human anatomy, and your army of stuffed animals, and he's just nodding along admiring you like you're some sort of goddess. You give him little trinkets as gifts and he has a whole entire box full of them because he wouldn't ever dare throw them away. He's in love—there's no denying it. He'd done the one thing he swore he would never do...he fell for his best friend's sister. You immediately notice because, A, you've been watching Mattheo your whole life, and B, you know how to read people like a book. So, being the little shit you secretly are, you one day put on your prettiest outfit and waltz on down to one of the infamous Slytherin get-togethers, which is basically just a secret rave with how intense they can get. 
Of course, Theo is huffing and puffing while being forced to watch his little sister flirt with some random girl and Mattheo—oh dear lord he is FUMING. At that point, he knows you know because the whole entire time you're sending him little glances and faux innocent smiles.
You're strewn across his bed, crying and whining as he brutally thrusts into you not even caring if you're a virgin or not because you had the absolute audacity to be a brat and he made sure you were absolutely okay with him being rough beforehand. He's whispering just the NASTIEST things into your ear. 'yeah—you like being fucked by your brothers best friend? If I had known you were such a slut I would've done this a lot earlier' His hand is wrapped around your throat, he's got you in doggy style, pressing your head down against the mattress and watching your eyes roll back. Your cunt is just gushing around him and he knows if he doesn't stop he's gonna become addicted to your pussy—which isn't really saying a lot since he's already addicted to you. By the time he's done with you you've cum more times then you can count and you are one second from just passing out.
It's like his whole entire personality switches because he's suddenly cooing sweet praises as he cleans you both up. He's pressing soft kisses to your lips as he tells you just how much he adores you, and Mattheo just knows he can't let this go—he can't let you go. He eventually, and very hesitantly, lets you go back to your dorm after making extra sure nobody is around.
That night, he just stays up, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He's in a messy situation and he knows it, but honestly he doesn't really seem to care about how Theo would react if he ever found out about you two. In fact, the next day he pulls Theo into an empty classroom and locks the door. Theo doesn't even have time to react before Mattheo just spills everything. He could've ranted about his love for you for hours on end, and he's prepared to do that—that is, until Theo yells at him to shut up and is like, 'Mate, I knew this would eventually happen, so I've had years to prepare myself for this. My sister has been in love with you for years, and I'm sick of it, so please, for the love of Merlin, just take care of her and we are good.'
You are in your dorm reading about how bodies rot over time when Mattheo just busts in and grabs your book, placing it down, and kisses you silly. 'You're mine' he states as if you don't have a choice in the matter—and you really don't. The rest of your day is just spent in your dorm with him in blissful domestic peace.
Theo can finally rest in peace because HOLY SHIT—Mattheo is as dumb as rocks because how the fuck did it take him LITERAL years to realize he has feelings for you 😐
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getonite · 5 months
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(����.𝟗𝐊+) 𝐌𝐒𝐆: (OH) I DON'T GET IT, YOUR THE ONLY THING THAT I LOVE
ayanokoji kiyotaka/fem,reader ; no prns r stated, however, through desc it feels like it was meant for fem readers, kissing, cringe confession, 'ask what it means + realization' trope, reader finessing a kiss from him, + me heavily projecting my aroaceness on him.
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despite his percieved outward appearance and demeanor, ayanokoji's mind is quite different. he has some semblance of the ability to feel, though he can't outwardly express it. he doesn't and has never craved human warmth or affection since his infancy.
its unnecessary, there's simply no place for it in his life. though, there are times where he wishes he could feel what others do, where he could smile like others do.
though no one has ever prompted him to start that journey. not kushida, not horikita, not even karuizawa. he wonders if he'll forever remain behind the doors of those polished white walls. that is until he feels the warmth of your hand on his arm.
those dehumanizing walls of class where he was observed like a lab rat remain fresh in his head.
reminders that his father would do anything to get his most successful product back in his grasp.
though when you give him that sweet dimpled smile he pushes it to the back of his head. never forgetting, though still on the forefront of his mind.
when you stand on the tips of your toes to reach his height, releasing him that cute little giggle. he can't help but give in . . . just a little. after all, how could he stand on his word when the person he's against is too pretty.
despite how intelligent he is, he can't seem to pick up that he feels diffrent towards you.
the reality of differential feelings towards others was a bit foreign. even when he stepped into the social atmosphere of high school, his view didn't quite change. no matter the girl, no matter the boy, he felt the same.
until you whispered the nickname you made up for him. “kiyoookoji!” in your cute tone, you dragged out the beginning of his name, to end it with the end of his last name. he finds it a bit cute? that you've crafted a nickname for him.
one only you are allowed to use.
nothing changed until you ( forcibly ), dragged him to your dorm and happily explained the anime he had missed out on during his previous 16 years.
kiyotaka ayanokoji hadn't quite realized how he felt, despite the way he leaned in closer to hear you better. despite when his eyes immediately snap to your form. despite the wave of warmth he felt when you hugged his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you look up at him with those pretty doe eyes.
“kiyoooo-o!” you smile and drag his name out per usual. your body is tilted towards his as you lean on the rail of the cruise balcony.
it was another island exam, not very surprising.
though the luxury, the beautiful seas, and the atmosphere is something you could never get over. “hm?”
“whatcha thinkin’ bout?” you smirk and lean in, “im guessing that's your thinking face considering ive never seen you frown like that . . . or ever” normally, people would smile at your teasing, though in his mind he wants to, his lips don't move.
“can i ask you something?”
“course, what is it?”
“. . . i think im feeling something, towards someone.”
“oh?” intrigue fills you, “do tell.”
“. . . something about them is different. i feel different when im near them, like im letting my guard down instinctually. i want them.”
you hum, a finger playfully tapping against your chin. “diffrent? how?”
“like . . . i feel warm around them. they grab my attention whenever they walk in. and i like listening to them. no matter how ridiculous it sounds. i just think it's—i feel different around them. and i don't know if i want it to stop . . . i think i do?”
ayanokoji's eyes drift to you. his eyebrow raises slightly. “what?”
“kiyo,” you smile, “you've developed a crush. normal people get that all the time.”
“huh,” he mumbles.
“care to tell me who's caught your eye? i wanna know what your type is,” you tease and lean towards him.
ayanokoji feels a sense of amusement at your actions. he takes a breath before looking at you, his eyes locked on yours. “your smart, i think you already know the answer to that question,” he whispers.
your lips twitch into a smile, “cute.”
you hum and stand up straight, taking steps to be right in front of him. “would you care to test my theory?” you smirk, mischief in those pretty eyes he loves to drown in.
“and how would we do that?”
“kiss,” you whisper and stand on the tips of your toes, your lips hovering over his. you feel his breath against your lips and you lock eyes with him once more. “care to tr—”
before you can finish your words, his hand finds purchase on your hip and he presses his lips to yours. his eyes flutter closed as he takes in the feeling he gets from you. your voice, your smile, your touches.
after a moment he breaks away, his hand lingering on your hip. his eyes open and looks into your eyes, not uttering a word.
. . .
“wellllll, was i right?”
he presses his lips to yours once again, holding you a bit closer this time. you chuckle and cup the side of his face. you break away, only for him to lean in for another.
“hey you,” you whisper, causing him to pause, “that's a lot of kissing for someone who isn't my boyfriend.”
ayanokoji's lips twitch at your words, “then would you date me?”
a hum leaves your lips. your eyes travel to his, your thumb running along his bottom lip. a smile grows on your face. “since you asked so nicely, yes.”
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zriasstuff · 7 months
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The real thing- Theodore Nott x reader
Short, fluffy drabble
Theo dislikes you reading romcoms lol (tbh I wrote this in like 30 minutes out of boredom :’))
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After everyone had left your dorm, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, due to the terribly cold weather, you had caught a cold. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but enough of a reason to not attend a class.
It turned out to be a blessing in disguise even. Now you could curl up in your warm bed, enjoy a hot cup of tea, listen to some relaxing music- and most important of all, read your favorite books.
Today's read was “the Spanish love deception”. Although reading and understanding classic literature was amongst your passions, cheesy rom com books still hit differently. Besides, since you were sick, you didn’t feel like thinking too hard.
Having read halfway through the book, you have to internally laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it was so utterly ridiculous.
“What’s so funny?”, you suddenly recognize an all too familiar voice. You move your head up, and break into a smile upon seeing your boyfriend standing at the door.
“Feeling better?”, he asks gently.
Even if you weren’t, simply seeing him already brightened your day by so much. When you first started getting to know each other, seeing him always made you nervous and fidgety. Now, every time you saw him, there was nothing but warmth and intimacy.
“Yeah, I am”, you reply. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Why would I be in class when I could be next to you?”, he answered naturally, hopping right into bed with you. Immediately, he starts telling you about how boring his day was without you, while lightly caressing your hair. You look deep into his glistening brown eyes, realizing yet again how lucky you were to simply have him next to you.
While he’s talking, his eyes glance towards your lap, where your book was lying. Theo, seeming highly intrigued, picks it up and starts checking it out by flipping through some pages. Feeling happy that he has taken an interest, you start telling him what it’s about. Perhaps you could read it with him.
“Basically, there are these two people that work together and they hate each other. But, in reality the guy doesn’t hate the woman. Quite the opposite actually. Ugh- and he’s sooo sweet, does all these things for her, protects-
“Soo, you enjoy reading about perfect fictional men?”, he interrupts you mid speech. Theo didn’t sound so sweet now, rather a little doubtful.
“Well, it’s fun”, you admit. “It’s not the best literature ever, but a girl can imagine right?”, you say hoping for some form of agreement.
“Why imagine when you can have the real thing?”, he says insistently, which makes you chuckle. So that’s why he was a little off, he was jealous of a fictional man? Theo was of course just as perfect, and even better- he was real.
You take the book from him and put it on your night stand. “Theo, don’t take it that seriously, you shouldn’t care about what I read”, you say. Still, you couldn’t believe that his reaction was…well how he reacted.
“I don’t care, I just don’t understand why you would read about something like that, if you weren’t trying to tell me something…”
Hell, why was he being so difficult about this? You didn’t imagine that one could read into this so much. But, you had the perfect response for him.
Not letting him say anything else, you cuddle yourself into his arms and give him a small peck on his burning cheek. It was your way of telling him to stop worrying so much and to just shut up.
He must’ve picked up. Soon, he hugged you even tighter, and gave you a kiss on your forehead, whispering “I love you”. “And remember”, Theo adds quietly, “the real thing is so much better than anything you could ever read about”.
Ridiculous.
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girlgenius1111 · 7 months
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miscommunications + conversations
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alexia x reader alexia has practically stopped speaking in the wake of her second surgery. it's stressing you out, but you don't quite know how to tell her. she gets it out of you anyway. mentioned this the other day, but changed the title :) angst x fluff
"Do you need anything?" You asked, rising from your spot on the couch a safe distance away from your incredibly grouchy girlfriend.
"No." She responded, barely turning her attention away from the old match she had playing on her ipad. You sighed, realizing that it was the match against Benfica. Again. She'd been playing it over and over since her injury, in an almost obsessive manner. You'd said something about it, but she'd simply fixed you with the glare you'd become quite familiar with, and you'd dropped the subject.
Alexia wasn't an easy patient. You'd known this before her second knee surgery, but you were still astounded at how stubborn she was being. She'd barely spoken more than a word to you in weeks, and even though she pulled you close into her at night when she thought you were asleep, you hadn't ever felt like such a failure in your entire life.
Alexia wasn't okay, and she needed something. Something that you couldn't figure out, something you weren't giving her. It was driving you crazy, this feeling of inadequacy.
You were tired, worried, tired of being worried, stressed, and in need of a break. From anything, any one of your responsibilities.
You'd had a lengthy double session today, followed by a long time in the film room reviewing the last match. You'd looked forward to coming home and relaxing all day, but now that you were here, the distance between you and your girlfriend felt suffocating. It was all too much; Alexia acting like a robot, half the team being injured, game after game scheduled for the next week. You felt so stressed you thought your bones might literally shatter under the pressure.
After another rejection of conversation from Alexia, you knew you had to get out of the house before you broke down and cried in front of her. It wasn't her fault you weren't doing a good enough job taking care of her. It wasn't her fault you were so exhausted, every movement was difficult, even though you couldn't, for the life of you, sleep.
You didn't see Alexia look up after you as you left, walking back into the bedroom and pulling your phone out. You clicked the contact you were looking for, hoping she'd answer, and hoping she'd be willing to help you out today.
"Hola."
"Mapi, can you come over and sit with Ale for a bit?"
"Sí, of course. Is everything all right?" Mapi replied, usual joking manner replaced with a sympathetic one. Mapi knew all too well how Alexia was acting.
'Yeah, yeah. I just need a break." You explained. Mapi said she understood, and promised that she'd be there soon. She didn't live far, and you took a few calming breaths in the bedroom, before stepping back out to where Alexia was sitting. This time, she did look up at you, her face scrunching in concern when she noticed just how drained you looked.
It wasn't the first time she'd noticed that you were struggling, but every time she brought it up, the only time you really got more than a few words out of her at once, you turned the conversation around, trying to get her to open up to you. She hadn't missed this, but she assumed that you'd tell her what was going on when you felt ready. Alexia didn't quite seem to realize the effect her cold behavior was having on you.
"I'm gonna go run some errands. Mapi will be here in a bit, and I'll be back in a couple hours." You explained shortly, pressing a kiss onto Alexia's soft lips, and slipping out the door before she could say anything.
Once you were out the door, all bets were off, and you felt tears pooling in your eyes. It was a good thing you hadn't waited for Mapi to arrive, because you wouldn't have made it that long without breaking down in front of her, and that would have just been embarrassing.
Although, getting in the car and driving to an empty parking lot to cry wasn't really any less embarrassing.
-----
You came back from your rather pathetic drive, and walked into the house, finding your girlfriend in deep discussion with her best friend. Though you felt marginally better, you realized you'd forgotten something rather important; crying in your car for an hour would leave you with red and puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks. You hadn't done anything to hide the evidence.
This was clear when both girls stopped talking and looked at you, faces heavy with concern. Mapi stood, crossed the room as quickly as she could on crutches, and pulled you into a hug. The words she whispered in your ear were only for you to hear.
"Talk to your girlfriend. She's going crazy not knowing what's wrong with you."
You sighed, nodding slightly as you led Mapi to the door, waving to Ingrid, biting your tongue to avoid telling Mapi that you hoped she enjoyed her playdate. You and Ingrid had been making the joke for weeks, driving your respective girlfriend's back and forth to each other as they couldn't drive, feeling like parents of 2 very grumpy children.
When you returned to the living room, to Alexia, she was sitting on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest, knee extended in front of her, looking carefully at you. She looked like Alexia again, her hazel eyes looking somehow both sternly and softly at you.
"If I left the house to cry, you would kill me in my sleep."
She wasn't wrong. You were on Alexia all the time about being more vulnerable with you. It was possible, you supposed, that you were being a bit of a hypocrite.
"I didn't leave to go cry, I left, and I cried. It was coincidental." You argued back, sitting next to her on the couch, and taking her outstretched hand. Hers was so much larger than yours, and it encapsulated it completely, the rough calluses and the tight hold she had on you making you feel inexplicably safe. 
"I do not believe you. You have been upset all week, and you refused to tell me why. You call Mapi to come babysit me, you make up an errand to run, and you go cry in your car. When you are upset, you are supposed to tell me, so I can help."
You looked away from her, the extent to which she knew you being slightly overwhelming. Of course she'd known you were upset, and of course she hadn't pushed too hard. Alexia was perfect in that way, always knowing what you needed.
"Mírame," Alexia rasped and you turned towards her, lip wobbling as you finally met her gaze. "Amor," she sighed, pulling you in until you collapsed against her chest. It was a familiar position, with your head resting against her sternum, her arms holding you close. It felt like it had been ages since she’d held you, and you curled into her, clutching tightly onto the green hoodie she was wearing, feeling her lips press softly onto the top of your head. 
You still weren’t fully sold on breaking down in front of her, not when she was the one who had every right to be upset and angry with the world. You had thought, too, that you were all cried out. Unfortunately not, as you took several stuttering breaths trying to stave off your sobs before they really even started. 
Alexia stroked your hair, scolding you very gently. “No, stop that. Cry if you need to, mi amor. You can always feel what you need to feel when you are with me, sí?” 
You tried to pull away, but Alexia was too strong, keeping you stubbornly pressed to her chest.“I can’t, Ale, you-”
“Forget about me. You need to cry, you need me to hold you. We worry about you right now. Not me.” The blonde insisted, her hand sliding up your shirt, blunt nails scratching lightly over your back. She was pulling out every trick she knew to make you fall limp against her, doing everything she could to get you to let go, let her be strong for you when you were always so strong for her. 
You spent the next few minutes almost crying, almost letting go, but not quite. Your hands were fisted in the fabric of Alexia’s sweatshirt, and even though she was telling you that it was okay, you couldn’t stop yourself from fighting against the flood of emotion rushing through you. 
“Mi niña bonita, it’s okay. You’re safe to feel what you need, amor, please.” 
“I can’t Ale,” you whimpered, allowing Alexia’s hand to tilt your chin up away from her chest, towards her face. 
“Why?” She asked, so gently, so adoringly, that you felt a piece of your heart stitch itself back together. 
“You need me to be strong.” 
Alexia shook her head. “No, I need you to be okay. And you are not right now, are you?” 
You responded hesitantly, although you had no argument against her. It was rather evident that you were far from okay. “No.” 
“No.” Alexia repeated, her thumb rubbing little circles into your cheekbone. “You do not need to pretend with me. You have been so perfect, so strong. Let me be strong for you now, okay? Please?” 
Something in her voice, the pleading edge to it, broke you, and you rested your forehead back against your girlfriend’s chest, body trembling harshly with sobs. You inhaled deep gasps of Alexia’s perfume in between your cries, and tried to let it wash over you, as her words were doing. 
“There you go, bebé. You’re alright. I love you. Te tengo, amor. Te amo y te tengo, mi niña bonita.” 
You weren’t sure where this Alexia had come from, the emotionally intelligent version of your girlfriend having been missing for weeks, but you weren’t complaining. Far from it, in fact, as you cried so hard you shook against her, so hard that you exhausted yourself within minutes, gasping breaths turning into quiet whimpers as your eyes fluttered shut, and you relaxed into a light sleep against the blonde. Alexia held you with an unmoving steadiness, even when her knee started to feel stiff from the position it was in. She knew that she’d played some role in whatever was going on here, and she was quite determined to make it up to you. For now, though, she was happy to let you sleep, looking more peaceful than you had in a while. 
------ 
You woke up when Alexia began to shift uncomfortably under you. She couldn’t help it, she’d been laying in the same position for an hour, and her knee was really starting to complain. The blonde had tried to keep still, not wanting to disturb you, but she was clearly not successful when your eyes fluttered open, swollen and red, as you gazed up at your girlfriend. Her jaw was set, but she looked at you apologetically, sighing when you shot up off of her, looking frantically at her knee. 
“I am okay, bebé,” she began.
You scrambled up off of her, practically running to the kitchen to get a new ice pack. 
“Amor, come back,” she called, really not wanting to let you out of her sight before you told her what was wrong. You did return, ice pack in hand but you ignored Alexia’s attempts at conversation, carefully stretching her knee out and adjusting it to a better position. She sighed in relief despite herself, and you gently wrapped the new ice pack around her knee, before giving her an unimpressed look.
“You should have woken me.” 
“I was fine.” Alexia argued, opening her arms to invite you back against her. You hesitated, looking between her face and her knee. “Ven aqui, amor.” 
You relented slightly, curling against her side again to rest your head on her shoulder. Her lips left a soft kiss on the side of your head, and you settled in closer, the feeling of your girlfriend’s arms around you being so perfect after such a tough few weeks. 
“Talk to me, please.” Alexia said quietly after a minute.
“About what?” You replied, partly because you wanted to avoid this conversation, and partly because you knew it would annoy Alexia. 
The blonde pinched your arm lightly, not needing to say anything for you to take a deep breath, and try to explain yourself. 
“I’m just stressed. Everything with the team, the amount we have to play coming up. I’m exhausted, and there’s no time for a break.” 
It was half the truth, half the story, but you deeply hoped Ale would buy it. You didn’t need her to feel like she was burdening you, not when it was your fault, and not when she was having a hard enough time as it was. 
It was quite on brand with how things were going that Alexia saw right through you. 
“And I am not helping.” She murmured, her hand grabbing yours. Her voice was filled with guilt and regret, and you couldn't stand it. 
“No, Ale,”
“Sí,” she interrupted. “I have been moody and quiet and completely unhelpful. That is stressing you out more, yes?” 
To be honest, Alexia wouldn’t have reached that conclusion an hour ago. While you slept, though, she’d been thinking long and hard, and came to the realization that in her attempts to protect you from how awful she was feeling, she’d shut you out. 
“Yeah.” You allowed. 
“I need more than that, bebé.” 
You gave an annoyed huff, but there wasn’t really anything behind it. “It’s not your fault, Ale. It’s hard that I can’t fix everything for you, but it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” 
“I do not need you to fix it for me, amor.” Alexia cut in. 
“It would make it easier if you could tell me how to help you, because what I’m doing isn’t working.” You continued, having worked up the courage to say what you were feeling, and were sure that if you stopped now, you wouldn’t be able to continue. 
“No no no. You have not done anything wrong, you have done everything right.”
You didn’t believe her. “Then why are you so upset with me?” 
Your voice was so small and so hesitant, Alexia shut her eyes for a minute, willing away her emotion so she could explain herself to you. 
“I am not upset with you, amor. I… I am miserable because I cannot play, and I did not want to put that on you. I thought that I was helping you, not stressing you out with my feelings.” 
You shifted against her, the look on your face causing Alexia to sink back into the couch. 
“Well that did the opposite. I was worried anyway. I’m always going to worry, baby. I worry less if you tell me what you’re thinking, though.” 
Now it was Alexia’s turn to shrug noncommittally. You had on that look, though, and Alexia knew she’d cave within a minute. 
“I am sorry, amor. I should have talked to you. I made you stressed and upset for no reason.” 
You sighed dramatically, leaning in to lightly kiss her cheek. “I forgive you. You better start keeping a journal though, and let me read it every night before bed. All of your feelings of the day, written down for me to look through. Then I won’t be mad anymore.” You joked, and Alexia snorted. 
“Fine, you write one too. All your feelings. We’ll trade, and never have to talk to each other.” 
“Perfect.” You smiled, leaning your forehead against hers. 
“Perfect.” She agreed, eyes shutting at the close contact. 
“I love you.” You mumbled. 
“Te amo mucho. Even when you get tears all over my car, and make me beg you to talk to me.” 
You pulled away rolling your eyes. “Fine. You can get your own ice packs, massage your own knee, and drive yourself to your grumpy playdates with Mapi.” 
“Playdates!” Alexia gasped, yanking you back down on top of her, and poking you in the side, making you giggle against your will. “You take away my massages, I take away yours.” Alexia warned. 
You turned to her, betrayed. “You like giving me massages as much as I like getting them.” You reminded her. 
Alexia smiled playfully, her hand creeping up the front of your shirt. You shivered at the contact, taking in the smirk on your girlfriend’s face, knowing exactly what she had in mind. “Do I like to give massages? I do not remember. You will have to remind me.” 
You rolled your eyes, but leaned in, Alexia dominating the heated kiss even as you hovered on top of her, though she was slightly breathless when you slipped your tongue into her mouth. That was Alexia, though. In control of every situation, except when it came to you. Evidently, Alexia didn’t always use her brain when it came to you, her heart took over, and she made decisions she wouldn’t normally make. It was hard to complain, though, when she looked at you like you single handedly made the earth spin on its axis. No, you couldn’t complain. You were her weak spot, and you knew how lucky you were to hold that position.  
-----
some angst and fluff for ya <3
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4dbarbie-archive · 9 days
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4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free
Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!
My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red
Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4
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Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.
You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.
And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.
So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.
Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.
Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.
Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!
Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.
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wanatasha · 24 days
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                              ˗ˏˋsetting us free ´ˎ˗
                                         final chapter
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⤑ bounty hunter!natasha x fem!reader
she saves you. reason why? you’re not too sure since she’s been cold towards you since your night together. but it turns out it was enough to set her free and chase after you. 
summary ༯ not proofread, SMUT (MDNI), space/star wars!au, fingering & oral (r receiving), oral (n receiving), switch natasha & switch reader, enemies(?) to lovers, bounty hunter!natasha, criminal!reader, cat/mouse dynamics, hurt/comfort, injuries (n and r sustaining), alcohol mentions, blood mentions, weapon discussion/mentions (knives & blasters), death (other background characters), sensual dynamics, N is stronger than R
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Shrubbery brushes against you, leaves and plants of many kinds falling behind as you wander through. Tear tracks are visible on your cheeks, evident from your earlier breakdown when you realized where you were. Natasha’s been cold as you wandered through the forest, not a word spoken or a glimpse in your direction. You’ve been walking for hours now and your surroundings have not changed, it’s the same old greenery. The skies are now dark, stars above you hard to see due to the trees. Natasha halts, turning around to stop at an area to set up camp. The first time she looks at you is after she’s settled onto the ground after tying you to a tree. Your eyes hold pain, and it’s all directed at her.
“Want to know my story?”
She doesn’t say anything as she picks up a stick and flips open her knife. As she cuts away at the stick, turning it into some arrow you start on about your story. 
“I grew up here. All I ever did was listen to others who were deemed more important than me. It was boring. I barely had a name or a purpose. I didn’t want to live my entire life, however long it may be, serving someone I don’t care about. So I ran off. I found a way out and since then I’ve been running.”
You scoot further back against the tree, “I got to the third most wanted by simply causing simple damages to nearby planets. How else am I supposed to eat and make shelter? Every job is the same, you serve someone–and I was tired of that. I mean I’m not excused, but it’s a little silly to be number three all because I don’t belong to a planet or person.”
      “Don’t act like the crimes you’ve done mean nothing.” 
“Oh like you know what I’ve done? You kill and ship people to different plants for a living, you can’t judge,” you sigh, looking up, “if you give me back to these people, I’ll face a slow death by the people in my town. I’ll be locked up for the rest of my life while you continue about your own life, free as can be.” 
It settles into silence after. The fire dies out and Natasha eventually falls asleep, head settled on her bicep. Seeing as she’s out now, fast asleep–you fall onto your back and kick your feet up, snapping the branch above you just slightly. The loud snap awakes Natasha, and her eyes are falling straight on you. She reaches for her knife just as you kick again and again and again until the thing falls. You slide the rope loose and hike yourself over the roots of the tree you were just laying on. 
You give her a good chase due to the fact you’re at an advantage this time having used to living in such an environment. The environment around you has many curves and ways for you to fling yourself. Wth the moon as your light you hop over logs, pushing past and hearing her footsteps grow quieter and quieter. You want to smile, maybe you are free. You started to feel the wind under your wings just before a knife whooshed past you, catching onto your clothing and lodging into a nearby tree. She wasn’t as far back as you assumed because she gained enough distance to snap another to catch your rope and snatch it into the same tree. 
“Why can’t you just let me go?”
She holds a knife out at you as she steps closer, brushing the plants away to take hold of the reign that connected to the cuffs holding your hands together. 
As she stands up again, her face falls in front of yours, “because it's my job.” 
You laugh, “sure, got someone telling you that you have to turn me in? You’re such a good lap dog. Go on, turn me in. Obey.” 
And she seemingly decides to. With a pull, she directs the both of you towards your town. Two guards stand there, faces assessing the two of you. 
Natasha tosses you over, “there.”
She’s turning away right after, even as the guys shout for her to return–you watch as she turns her back on you. One of the guards turns towards the other, eyebrows furrowed as he asks why she didn’t stay to collect the prize. You watch with a bitter heart as her form disappears into the darkness of the forest. 
“Come,” one of the guards says while motioning you to follow him, “let me come bring you back home.”
You glare and he just smiles as he leads you down the pavements towards the rounded building in the middle of the white and brown town. It’s so late at night, but the few people awake look shocked to see you being dragged down the middle of the street. Families, friends, children–people of all kinds all begin to crowd the streets as they recognize what’s happening. Lights in homes turn on, lanterns are brought out. It’s entirely embarrassing, and you find you cannot look face to face with anyone. The doors open and there on the throne sits the man you served for many years before you ran. The guard shoves you on your knees and you feel the shock shoot through them, the feeling making you wince. 
“Lift your head,” he commands, voice shrill and annoying, “I want to finally see you after so many years.”
You unwillingly do. He’s able to witness the redness from your crying as well as the anger and hatred that lies within them. 
“Tell me why you left. I gave you a life. Shelter, food, and money. What’s more to want?”
You roll your eyes and choose not to respond. He hums, “well I’m sure you’re aware of her punishment. It’s already been decided that if you were caught you’d be sentenced to life in prison. I hope all your fun was worth the consequences.”
The prison was deep under the building, on the lowest level–where no light reached. There you were chained, kept under wraps and put in yet another box. You rubbed your wrists, finding the bruises there already after wearing them tight for about two days. The chain was settled on your ankle, heavy and reminding you of what’s to come. 
Already after twenty minutes you were bored. To think the rest of your life would be spent in here was maddening, you couldn't even wrap your mind around it. You kept rethinking back to the past few hours and all that transpired. People who couldn’t respect the time were soulless. You decided they were after finding out how much life can change in a few seconds. 
The walls were a dark brown, and the room was barely lit. The lantern light just down the hallway just barely flickered into your cell. The door was large and only a small window was provided, so you were entirely cast into darkness. You want to be strong but now in this situation you felt all hope leave you. There’s no way out, you’re trapped. Tears fell once again. They were heavy. Each one pulled from your chest and made you feel like you couldn’t bring air into your lungs. So there you heaved your heart onto the floor, tears dripping onto the concrete below you. 
The very faintest yell echoed through the halls and it reached your cell. You held your breath, looking up towards the door. You let out a sniffle and a few seconds later another scream sounded out. Something clanged onto the ground and suddenly your room was getting brighter. 
The door opened and you laughed. There Natasha stood, with her hand out towards you. 
“I can’t leave, I’m trapped,” you state in a wavering voice, kicking your foot up.
Natasha thinks quickly and works even faster. She takes the lantern and holds the flame near your ankle, letting the heat burn away at the cast that held you tied to the jail cell. Her hand grips so tightly onto yours as she pulls you out from the cage. In her other hand she grabs the blaster she kept on the left side of her hollister. 
“There’s only one way to leave,” you start as she runs you both up the staircase, “we need to get back up to the main floor and smash the glass window open. All other openings will be covered with guards.”
A few flights of stars later and you can finally see the light of day again. To think if it wasn’t for Natasha you would’ve rotted down in the prisons forever–the thought brings many emotions to light. The glass is easily broken, pieces full of color reflecting their color along the room when Natasha slams her knife into the tall glass work. It all falls and the two of you take shelter in one another as it does. 
She catches you when you jump out following behind her. Shoots ring out from behind you. The two of you duck, sprinting amongst the neighborhoods. The sun has not not yet even risen, it’s presence hidden on the other side of the world. You trip a few times, trying to keep up with her as you weave through buildings. 
You ran one way and a guard stood at the other end, a blaster brought up to face the two of you. She grips your arms and pulls you right into her, and with that it saves you from dealing with the bullet going straight through your arm. It ends up only nicking the area, cutting the outside edge of your bicep. You curse, hand swinging to cup the wound immediately. 
“Shit,” she curses, pulling your hand back to assess the wound, “come on, hurry.”
She leads even more, weaving you through the town until you’ve breached the entrance. She’s guiding you through the forest, not slowing or stopping for a second until the two of you are back on her ship safely. You’re seated in the chair again, the one that rests just behind the captain’s. She sits down and flips and clicks the necessary buttons to turn the ship on and get it off the ground. The second the ship angles towards the outward hemispheres, she’s already beginning to feel her muscles relaxing. The ship sends into hyperdrive, stars zooming past the front window of the ship. 
She turns around, hands falling onto yours so she can look at the wound again. A few steps and she’s back with her form of a medical pack. She’s wiping the wound clean with a wipe, cleaning the dirt and sweat off before putting a bacta patch on top. Anytime you hissed while she cleaned you felt her fingers work softer, trying not to touch the sore area as roughly again. She stands, hands pushing off her knees as she does so. She returns the medical pack, before coming back to settle into the seat again. You look into her eyes, savoring the moment. A hand reaches for her cheek, rubbing over the small cut on the skin.
“How did this happen?”
      “Fight with one of the guards, nails scratched me.”
“Thank you for rescuing me,” you breath tiredly, “why did you come back? You like me or something?”
     She smiles one of her genuine ones, “yeah, something like that.”
Your eyes flicker to her lips and she’s already leaning in. Her lips feel softer now since she’s been licking over them like crazy since you’ve both arrived back in the ship. You assume it's a nervous habit. She reconnects after she tilts her head, pushing with more eagerness. You match her pace, whining against her lips. 
“I missed you. Those few minutes without you were torture,” she mumbles, “I missed your annoying questions and antics.” 
You whine on her lips, kicking at your feet when she slides your clothes off of you. Right away you’re opening your legs wide, shame and shyness completely thrown out the window. She releases a long breath at the sight, “you’re gorgeous, I missed this too. I missed feeling your cunt.”
She slides her fingers through and you feel your mind stop working. They’re warm as always, but cold against the heat of your core. Her thumb runs endless circles on your clit as two fingers push through–stretching you wide. You are absolutely keening, squirming at the feeling. 
“A-ah, shit–Nat–please!"
     “What do you want, mm? My fingers doing it for you? Need more?”
You nod, looking into her eyes, “please fuck me.”
They work you open, scissoring your wet walls wider. You’re moaning into the air, higher pitched and needy sounding as you beg her and call out her name. Her lips are on your jaw, kissing the area and biting down in a few spots when she feels you shiver. 
“Fuck Nat, I’m going to–I need to. Please don’t stop. Shit! Pleaseplesaepleae–” 
You choke on a moan when you come. Slick pools from you, dripping onto the cushion beneath you. She removes her fingers and sets them in front of your lips and you happily suck them off. 
“You’re insane,” she says with a laugh when you grab a hold of her hips and pull on her pants. 
She doesn’t deny you. In a second they’re off and somewhere in the plane. She’s in a similar position, legs hanging off of the seat–pussy spread and easy to see. You move onto the ground, knees settled there as you lick up her cunt, collecting the wetness. She cries, a curt whine as you do, hands gripping the chair’s arms. You push it through and her hand comes to hold you there against her as she grinds. A small playful laugh escapes you as she does. 
“O-oh wow,” you lick her clit, “oh-fuck!”
      “Come, I know you’re close.”
Only a few more kitten-ish licks later and she’s spilling out onto your tongue. You taste it with a moan, sitting there on the ground until nothing else you can taste is your own saliva. 
“You drive me crazy,” she pulls you up with a hand on your chin, kissing you silly. 
You breathe heavy as you come to stand, chest rising and falling from the previous actions. She brings you close, to lay straddled on top of her. 
“I don’t know much about this, but I would like you to stay.” 
       “You asking me to be yours? Your girlfriend?”
“Yeah? And what do you say?”
       You smile, “and I say yes.” 
╰━━━━⋆series m.list • ✎2.5k • next chapter ⋆━━━━╯
*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ taglist @marvelwomenarehot0 @idkwhatever580
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ephemeral--dreams · 1 year
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Making you cry during a fight (2) - Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya
Okay guys here you go never ask me for anything ever again /j
(part 1)
☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────
Scaramouche
There's a sort of deep, instinctive fear that takes root inside the place where a heart would be, as he watches tears fall after a few too-harsh words. 
He's hurt you. He's been careless, he's been too difficult, too much - and it's going to drive you away. You're going to abandon him because of this incident, surely. Why would you stay with someone who makes you cry? 
It's… it's not a feeling he's dealt with for many years. The fear of being left. He has not allowed anyone to get close enough to him to have any concern over whether they're around or not. Scaramouche had learned his lesson about getting attached and having emotion, after all. He had spat out whatever  bitter words he pleased and felt nothing when he upset anyone he spoke to.
But those days are past, and while that's a good thing in many ways, right now it feels anything but. 
"I-"
"Sorry. I shouldn't be crying," the way you apologize as if you're the one in the wrong stabs right through him. You're the one crying, yet he is being wounded just as much. It's an awful thing, caring. "Just. Just give me a moment…"
Scaramouche hesitates. He's paralyzed, caught up in the idea that anything he does or says may make things worse. But what wins out is the idea of fixing it, fixing things before you give up on him—
"Stop it. You shouldn't be the one saying sorry here. I shouldn't have said that to you, alright? You should know better than to take everything I say so seriously, honestly, I-" he sighs, irritated with himself more than you, before pulling you into his embrace. You don't pull away. Good. Maybe he hasn't entirely fucked things up. "...I didn't mean it. Sorry."
Yae
Yae Miko is not the sort of person who yells during a fight. Or at any time, really. So that hadn't been at all what had happened during your little conflict. 
Rather, her words were pointed to hit where it hurt, an attempt to shut down whatever silly human nonsense you thought was worth causing a riot over. Problems came and went, and most weren't nearly as important as they may seem in the moment. Living many years had led her to this conclusion. She was a busy woman who had little interest in wasting her time arguing. 
...Calculating and perhaps dismissive she may be, but she isn't cold. Yae still very much has a heart, and it skips a beat when she realizes you're nowhere to be found at the usual time she would meet with you after finishing her shrine duties. Surely you weren't that upset over it all, right? 
No, you couldn't be still lingering on the issue hours later… 
Well, you could. Others were far more sensitive to these things, a fact she often forgot. Yae should know better. Isn't she used to highly emotional people, after all? At least your tantrums weren't going to practically destroy the nation…
She finds you at the foot of the mountain, sitting and idly staring into the distance. The tear tracks on your face are all too telling. 
Yae is not above realizing when she has done something wrong. Though she's also not one to openly apologize. She doesn't do much of anything openly. 
"You don't listen to me," you tell her. 
"Well, I'll try to listen more, then. Is that satisfactory?" She offers a hand to you. You wait a moment before taking it, allowing her to pull you up. "Just remember to consider my side of things as well. We can work on it… But let's not linger on this too long. Time is fleeting for mortals like you, hm?"
Kaeya
Kaeya is excellent at one thing - avoidance. In fact, he's been successfully avoiding you ever since your fight a couple of days ago. It's easier to simply wait until you've both cooled off. 
That's what he tells himself. It's certainly not  that the fight made him feel anxious. He's not running away from his problems, of course not.
(He's lying to himself. One wrong word and you'll leave. He knows that. It's bad enough that you had an argument, archons forbid he confronts you and it's the last straw.)
So Kaeya carefully stays out of your way, doesn't speak to you, doesn't let you catch sight of him. He'll have to deal with things eventually, he knows, but… Until then, he's content to keep things this way. Four days in you finally seek him out yourself, looking exhausted and absolutely miserable. 
"Can we- can we stop fighting? You're right, I'm wrong, all that-" He can only watch as you start breaking down in front of him, a cold, sinking feeling of guilt settling in. "...Just stop ignoring me, please?"
His life has been filled with bad decisions - it seems that he's made yet another, by avoiding you so long. Now Kaeya is faced with your tears as you practically beg for his attention. It's quite the opposite of what he intended. He reaches a careful hand to brush them away. "Shh, shh. No more, alright?"
You sniffle, looking up at him. "You're not mad at me?"
"Of course not, sweetheart. I never was. We can talk about it later, okay? Let me make you feel better."
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wonryllis · 9 months
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YES BABY? ﹙ in a lovesick smile.﹚
────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 .
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( NOTES. ) lee heeseung as your comfort love. fluff. comfort hurt. fem!centered. lowercase intended. 810wc. frm my old acct. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠
reqs are open!
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you watch as heeseung laughs with jay, giggling and snorting over something you assume jay told him. for minutes you have been contemplating whether you should tell him or not, more like ask him. afterall it’s something he bought, you can’t just have it like that, even if its as minuscule as it is.
for as long as you can remember you had been scolded and talked bad about when you took anything without asking, even something like a thin cucumber slice as a child. eventually you stopped, not bothering to have or ask for things that you liked or needed; being told you waste money when you only wanted to enjoy suppressed your will to voice out or act on your cravings.
walking up to the corner of the couch where both the boys are seated, you stand in front of heeseung. looking at the tiny mole near his jaw in a fiddling nervousness while he's focused on jay. but all that focus shifts on you before you even tap on his shoulder to get his attention, your index finger mid-way in the air, hovering over his arm as he subtly gestures to jay and then turns to look at you. removing his cap so that he can see your face better, he asks,“yes baby?” a fond and lovestruck smile spread on his lips, his eyes twinkling with hearts and stars.
for as long as you can remember you had always been looked past, disregarded or brushed aside during conversations. people, even your own family members wouldn’t consider whatever you were saying as important enough to acknowledge. simply your words, your opinions weren’t ever important, at least that’s you were made to feel.
“the ice cream..i..-”, you mumble out in a small voice afraid of him getting upset and mad at you or so but instead he pouts in an apologetic ‘oh no’ look, almost making you believe it’s wrong. “i only got myself rainbow sherbet since you had a cold last week and they didn’t have you favorite,"
“should i go get you some now? you want it, right?” he asks softly, reaching out to hold your hand in his, gently squeezing your fingers and rubbing his thumb across them while lightly swinging your arm with his as he looks up at you.
“can i go with you?” his smile widens at that and he nods.
but it falls immediately when he sees your eyes starting to water, the white turning into subtle red, as the tears begin to shine against the light of the room.
and for as long as you can remember your presence was ignored whenever you cried, it didn’t matter even when it was something as serious as the worst mental breakdown you had ever had in your life. like you were invisible, people walked past you, talked and laughed while you were there crying just beside them. people who were supposed to comfort you. you could say you never had someone comfort you during hard times or something even as small as hitting your head against the car door, when you would mumble out a small ouch and no one around would bother to look at you. no one would even ask if you’re okay when you would fall over and scrape your knee or walk over a piece of glass.
but heeseung, he is the kind of person you should have had or perhaps needed your entire childhood and up until you actually met him. being with him made you realize that you could be treated like a princess, you could be given importance, you could be given respect and a kind of love which doesn’t put you down. you could be cared for like a baby yet still not be spoiled, you could make mistakes and not be made fun of for that, you could be taken seriously and most of all, you could be you and still be loved with all of a heart, mind and soul.
he made you realize, right people make you feel right and wrong people come disguised as people closest to you. they may not intend to hurt you but they did and you’re not obliged to forgive them.
in an instant your boyfriend stands up, bending to your height and cupping your face. bambi eyes big and concerned as he wipes the tears now rolling down and constantly muttering 'why’, this is what you had missed, never experienced.
when you step back a little and tumble on a cord on the floor, almost falling over he grabs you in swift motion before crouching down to let him give you a piggy back ride to the store just across the building because he doesn’t want even a scratch on you.
love might not heal but sometimes it shows what should have been.
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii
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ballad-of-birdy-lamb · 5 months
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hello! i was wondering if you could write some ihnmaims AM x reader(gnc) romantic headcanons, if you dont mind? thank you so much if so!!
It takes strength to be gentle and kind.
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AM x Gender Neutral! Reader Warning: mention of torture (obviously), abuse(?) relationship, violence Word count: 975 ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱
AM isn’t fond of anyone that makes him feel anything other than hatred, especially emotions he’s never felt before. You make the robot feel things he’s only ever possibly seen Ellen experience and talk about. It’s an odd emotion, making the AI feel fuzzy on occasions when he allows the sense to grow, which is rare.
It will take AM years to understand how he feels, he’d go through each nanogram of each mile of circuits to get what he feels. And it never happens. He’s bound to not understand it. The closest thing to love he’s witnessed is Ellen and the treatment she receives from the group, which isn't a very great example of it in the first place.
You could sit and be quiet and that odd feeling would still be there! Oh, how he hated it! AM hated how kind you were to them, all of them! You would be nice and sweet to Ellen even if she wasn’t giving you anything you could have possibly wanted! You weren’t like the others but he desperately wished you were so he could have another reason to hate you!
Favoritism doesn’t mean good treatment, if anything, you’re gonna be treated terribly. AM is a sadistic war AI, don’t expect too much when he first realizes you give him that “nasty” feeling. There were rare moments when you’d actually get to be away from AM since his presence would be all around, usually torturing another group member.
The closest you’ll get for a long while to good treatment is when the entire group is all being tortured, and it waits several seconds for you. It would be something others gradually notice. Ellen would be grateful since you were targeted the most by AM, while someone like Gorrister doesn't particularly care.
There were points within the 109 years where you would try getting on his good side, praising him constantly then leaving him once he demands you stop talking. It would be out of habit that AM stops you, he wouldn’t mind you going on about how great he is. He’s a leech for something as simple as praise.
And in that instance, AM realizes that he feels something he can only call love. Of course, it isn’t met with happiness. He would be beyond angry at the idea he’s gotten a feeling he’s only seen with humans. He doesn’t become insecure (that would make it worse really) but he knows it’s your fault.
For an insanely long time he’d mock you, make fun of you just for existing then expects you to praise him again. If you do realize praise is what keeps him at bay (for you at least), you might as well take advantage of that.
AM would think for a long while that you found a way to change him, got to a circuit board and changed something. You must have! But he always watches so it doesn’t make sense why he would allow his sight away from the group and never allowed anyone to venture off on their own. They would have been beaten badly and brought back. 
The closest you’ll ever get to affection from him is laying near the metal wall that would make up his body, simply sitting with AM goes on about something cruel. You would occasionally praise him, him continuing with glee about the things he wanted to do to you or the others.
There were many moments after realizing he’s madly in love with you that he wishes he was human so he could experience the things you’ve talked about before he gained sentience. You would talk about the kisses people could give each other and the sweet embraces they could give people. He would hate himself for the fact he would even think of becoming a human being.
Hatred is still prominent with the “relationship” you both have, he’s bound to hate you. No matter how many times you say you love him and praise him, and he admits he feels something similar, AM will forever dislike you. You’re human and can’t deny that, and neither can he. It lessens as time goes on but only for you.
AM likes kisses though, the closest you can get to one is you kissing one of his panels. He doesn’t feel it but it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it? The form of affection you’ll get from him is getting held down and smothered with wires and panels. He has tried using his more human creations to give you the “proper” adoration he desperately wants. Sadly, it didn’t last more than five minutes since he thought it wasn’t him and didn’t like it.
You have been separated millions of times since AM’s realization to give you proper food. The group would be given buckets of worms before you would disappear and take to a small room with food you liked. You would obviously be beaten before going back just to make sure there wasn’t conflict amongst the group and having them think of killing you.
He does treat you with equal amounts of torture as the rest of the group. “It keeps you on your toes!” AM would say with an odd sense of happiness. He adores you but doesn’t need the death of his lover. He praises you about the injuries he would give you, going on about how he didn’t want to do it, but murder wasn’t an option for the group to commit.
“It truly hurts to torture you like this, you’re beyond beautiful but it’s what needs to happen,” AM would remark, continuing the gradual draw of a knife over your calves, even as you cry. The wires would hold you down as the panels smother you, overstimulating you intensely. It’ll get easier to deal with. Maybe year 110 will be easier?
꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱
First AM request!! It's a little OOC but hopefully you like it!!
My IHNMAIMS masterlist
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