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#and the one from my therapist whenever I ask him to give it to me already
onyxmilk · 10 months
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Twilight x f!Reader; "Missing"
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notes; i <3 angst writing!!! tw; angst, pregnancy, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, loid went to get milk without even realizing wc; 1.5k
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[YourName] stood there, uncharacteristically caught off guard. She knew there would be missions where Twilight couldn’t say where he was going or how long he’d be, but right now? When she had the biggest news of their lives to share? That simply was crueler than just cruel.
The woman looked down, nodding toward The Handler. “Uhm, okay, well, thank you.” [YourName] said, swallowing thickly before going to turn around. “I know you’re with child, (AgentName).” The Handler said making [YourName] halt in her foot steps, “I-I may be.” [YourName] replied.
“That’s wonderful news. Do you want me to send a message to Twilight?” The Handler asks, and as much as [YourName] wanted her husband to know- she shook her head. “No, I’ll let him know whenever he gets back. Even if it’s years later.” [YourName] said before heading back home.
Once home and the doors were locked, windows drawn to a close too, [YourName] finally broke down. She wasn’t ready to be a single mother, but from the way The Handler wanted to hand such a useless message to Twilight, [YourName] knew it was going to be quite a long time before [YourName] gets to feel Twilight’s lips against her own.
[YourName] curled into a ball on the couch, finally finished crying her eyes out. Afterwards she took a shower, made a dinner she’d share with her baby, and then headed to bed for the night. [YourName] didn’t dream that night, she just blinked and it morning.
She called out of work for the month, only returning to the office when she was five months pregnant, or around that time period. She didn’t expect to open the door and confetti be popped around her, but it happened. She should have expected something like this.
“Congratulations! We heard you were pregnant!” A co-worker said excitedly, [YourName] simply nodded with a bittersweet smile. “Oh, yeah, five months along.” [YourName] says, gently placing a hand on her forming bump. There was a small office baby shower for [YourName] which she had no choice but to accept.
For the next five months, [YourName] was pampered around the office, not that she asked for it- it seemed to just happen. [YourName] found out about the mission her husband had been sent on, and all she could summarize from it was that he played therapist and dad for another family.
The day someone accidentally spoiled what Twilight was doing, [YourName] excused herself to the bathroom where she cried out everything she had held back. She wanted Twilight to play father for the family they had made together. She would exit her bathroom, that’s when her water finally broke.
Her co-worker rushed her to the nearest hospital, which happened to be the one Twilight played Loid Forger at. [YourName] sat in her room, holding her arms, alone. She never in a million years thought she’d be alone in this situation, shes read many books where women have been, but she swore she’d never be alone in labor.
[YourName] munched on ice chips between tears, that’s when a familiar face had knocked on the door and entered, “Nightfall-“ [YourName] said clearing her throat, wiping her face, and setting the cup of ice chips down. “Twilight is simply across the building, we just have to tell him that [AgentName] is in the bit thing unit, he’d come.” Nightfall explained to [YourName], it just made the pregnant woman scoff.
“It’s not fair to distract him from his work, he has a wife and daughter to act out with.” [YourName] says, looking away from Twilight’s co-worker. “Yes, true, but you’re his real wife and you’re giving birth to his first born.” Nightfall says as she attempted to convince the woman to tell Twilight about her situation, “I made my decision, maybe he should’ve tried to reach out through The Handler.” [YourName] says.
Oh. Yeah. Nightfall was suppose to give those check in messages to The Handler. Oops. Nightfall sighed, “Your secret is safe with me.” she promised before exiting the room.
[YourName] sighed, and before she knew it, she was giving birth. The whole pushing and breathing thing was so much harder than she expected. She swore she almost fainted, but she shot right back into consciousness when she heard the cry of her baby. “It’s a girl!” The doctor said, gently setting the baby on [YourName]’s chest.
[YourName] cried happy tears for the first time her entire pregnancy. Instantly, baby girl stopped crying and cuddled into her mom’s chest. It melted [YourName]’s heart, she never wanted to let go of such a tiny thing before. Eventually, the nurses had to take the baby girl to wash her up and place her in a warm blanket and hat.
With the help of a co-worker, [YourName] got home with her daughter three days later. Lotte, meaning ‘free’ in German, settled in nicely. How [YourName] wished she had Twilight with her on some nights to cheer her up and explain how he’ll get Lotte so that she could get rest instead. But [YourName] pushed through, not letting herself get too down in the dumps due to it.
Months would pass, Lotte was finally almost ten months old. Lotte watched as her mother scattered around the room, going in and out of the kitchen, cleaning. It started to bother the baby that she wasn’t getting the attention she wanted, so she began to get fussy, which her mom simply put off as ‘hating the boppy’.
Fussy turned into crying, and [YourName] was right there. She held her daughter in her arms, gently rocking her, trying everything in her power to calm her down. “M..” baby Lotte mumbled “Mama..” she cried. Despite the crying, it was clear as day who Lotte was crying for and it warmed every ounce of [YourName]’s broken heart.
It had been over a year and some things had changed since Twilight had gone on his mission. It had been over an entire year, and since there were still no messages from him- [YourName] didn’t send any to him either. It broke her heart that she had to play single mom when she was legally married to Twilight.
It just proved to herself that she could do this alone, sure she had a bit of help from co-workers, but it was mostly her doing all the work! The thought of possibly divorcing him had floated through her head, but she loved Twilight way too damn much to go through with it.
Another year would pass and Lotte was walking now, sure she had a little wobble to her walk- but she was walking! It was one of those nice days where she was sure nothing could’ve gone bad, so [YourName] decided to take Lotte out for a little treat. Over the last two years, [YourName] realized her daughter loved those soft cake pops from a local café. So her daughter would get a cake pop and [YourName] would get something to drink.
As [YourName] entered into the café with Lotte in her arms, she hardly noticed Franky and a pink haired child sitting together. By the time the mother did notice, Franky had noticed her fully first. [YourName] set Lotte on the chair and unwrapped her cake pop before breaking it into fours and taking the stick away, she then sat down next to her daughter.
That is when Franky had approached her, now she knew who he was- he was the closest thing Twilight had as a friend. “[AgentName]?” The short man asked, out of habit [YourName] turned around slightly to face whoever called her name. “Oh.. Franky..!” [YourName] said, blinking a few times to try and see better.
“Oh my god, it is you!” Franky said, dropping the child’s hand. “Where have you been? Who’s this?” He asked, referring to Lotte. Lotte was too busy stuffing her face to notice a stranger doting over her. [YourName] sighed, “I’ll tell you who she is if you tell me who she is.” she said making Franky nod.
With some hesitation, [YourName] would finally tell Franky; “This is Lotte, she’s Twi’s and I’s daughter.” she announced. Franky practically blew up as he malfunctioned, he covered the pink haired girl’s ears before he spoke, “Thats not possible. Twilight has been on his mission for two years.” Franky defended, “And I was pregnant before he left, now who is she?” [YourName] replied, gesturing to the child Franky had with him.
The pink haired girl pushed Franky’s hands off her ears. “I’m Anya Forger! Loid and Yor Forger’s daughter!” Anya introduced, but then it kicked in for Anya that THIS woman was Loid’s REAL wife. “Your baby is pretty.” Anya said, trying to break tension.
“I’ve got to go.” [YourName] scoffed, cleaning up her and Lotte’s area before getting up and picking her daughter up and going to leave. “He didn’t want to leave, [AgentName],” Franky said across the café. “Yet, he did and hasn’t sent a message since.” [YourName] says before exiting the café.
Franky had a lot of information to pass to Twilight this afternoon.
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weeknd-ogoc · 6 months
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4EVER・。.・゜✭・. LANDO NORRIS
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SUMMARY: in which lando finally comes to his senses after seeing pictures of ferrari's golden boy and you. FACE CLAIM: claudia tihan CONTAINS: jealous!lando, unprotected sex, the guys being lando's therapist, some charles x reader, toxicness on both sides, some fluff and angst! AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's our king's 24th birthday! i felt like this was a bit messy but i hope you guys like it anyways!
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lando had been in the worst mood all week after seeing photos on twitter of charles and you leaving a hotel in brazil, just last week. what makes matters worse was that you weren't answering any of his messages or calls and you hadn't stopped by to visit him like you usually did.
he kept looking at the picture of you on his lock screen of you smiling with a burger in your hand — he had planned to take you out to a fancy restaurant but forgot to make reservations so you guys ended up in a burger king parking lot, eating french fries and greasy burgers.
"this is like a date..." you had said as you shoved a french fry in his mouth.
he shook his head and finished chewing. "not a date, trust me i'd go all out for our first date."
that had been the very beginning of your relationship.
the two of you had started off as good friends — he had followed you on instagram after seeing a post of you modeling in lingerie for victoria's secret and just a few hours after you had followed him back.
a few months of talking nonstop, he had taken a serious liking in you so after a race he decided to hang around with daniel and he ended up showing him your photos.
"man if you don't fly her out for our next race, best believe i will." he had said as he continued scrolling through your photos. "how the hell did you pull her? if i wa-"
lando rolled his eyes and snatched his phone back from him. "first of all, you're so old you wouldn't even know what to do with all that."
two days later he had flew you to texas where lando spent most of the time showing you some cool places. he had invited you to stay in his hotel room and you gladly said yes since the two of you were friends but with all of lando's flirting he was finally able to pass the friendship stage.
after he had taken you to an amusement park, he had taken you to an empty parking lot where you guys found yourselves in the backseat of his mclaren — he had the top of your dress half off and his pants was unbuckled. "trust me when it does happens..." he mumbled in between kisses as he had two of his fingers deep inside you. "i'm going to rock your world."
a month later when the time came of lando “rocking your world” he had struggled to find a condom in his room while you were there laying completely naked, wrapped up in his blanket.
he went through every drawer he had but nothing. "i mean are you sleeping with anyone else?" he asked and you shook your head no.
"are you?"
"no, just you as of right now..."
"you don't have any diseases do you?" you now asked him and he shook his head.
the both of you stared at each other for a few seconds before he jumped into his bed and began roughly kissing you — he put the work in for a few minutes before busting a load right into you.
"that's never happened before..." he mumbled. "i swear i can last longer than that!"
“c’mon lando, i thought you said you were going to rock my world.” you giggled as he slid out of you. “pretty sure it’ll take longer than three minutes.”
“c’mon baby stop making jokes.” he whined as he hid into the crook of your neck. “give me a few minutes and this time i will.”
the both of you had considered yourselves as casual fuck buddies those first few months so whenever the both of you were coincidentally in the same town he was giving it to you raw since you were the only one he was being sexually active with.
“fuck you’re so wet…” he moaned into your ear as he thrusted up into you. "you feel that? it’s all for you, so hard just for you."
it was going good but then you started questioning the whole thing, making him also question if he was truly ready for a serious relationship with you.
"i just want to know if this will ever be serious..." you had asked him as you slid on one of his shirts and sat back down on his bed. "i mean its been a year already of doing whatever this is."
"i like what we have why ruin it?"
for months he was able to creep around that same question — until last week after you found out that he went to the club, which was fine you were able to go out also but he had a certain girl around him all night that wasn't you. by the next morning twitter had posted the pictures with this girl on his lap, kissing and hugging him.
when you went to go visit him later that morning he had a hickey on his neck that he supposedly didn't even know he had. "i was drunk but i swear nothing happened!"
he was lying and he truly felt bad for what he had done, you out of all people definitely didn't deserve that. he had tried to get close to you multiple times but you kept backing away from him.
you weren't dumb, you knew that he definitely hooked up with the girl.
after going back and forth you had began crying out of frustration. you wiped your tears with the ends of your sweater. "i mean i don't know, i thought i was the only one..."
"you are, y-"
he then received a call from oscar making him remember he had to go to the paddock for media day. "fuck, i have to go but please just wait for me here and i'll make it up to you."
you sighed as you grabbed your phone from his bed and stood up. "i'm actually meeting with someone later so i have to go but i don't know if i want to work this out this time."
unfortunately for him the conversation couldn't continue because he had started getting messages and missed calls so after his interviews he tried texting you whenever he could but you never replied, just leaving him on read.
he knew you probably needed some cooling down so he left it as is.
"i honestly think you fumbled..." max butted into the conversation lando was having with the group. "let it be known that before you y/n and charles had a little fling going on."
charles choked on the water he was drinking and glared at max.
"woah hold on, you and y/n?" lando asked charles as sat up straight. "has she texted you since we started talking?"
he cleared his throat as max smiled at him, already knowing the truth to that question. "um well it wasn't really anything too serious and we haven't talk-"
"but there was that time they hun-" max butted in again and earned an elbow to the arm from charles.
"there was a time that we hung out after some argument you guys had about you and your ex talking but nothing happened."
lando tensed up after that he remembered that fight, you had left his house that day and didn’t talk to him for a whole week. he made sure to send you flowers and gifts throughout that week as an apology.
he knew he had no right to be jealous of you hanging out with charles. you were obviously allowed to have friends and hang out with whoever you wanted but he now understood how you felt when he would talk to his ex girlfriend.
"she made me cookies once, i love her!" daniel then announced as he looked up from his phone. "and i think you love her too but you're scared of telling her that, why is that?"
"i'm not scared it's just cause she makes me nervous, she makes me feel things that i don't want to be feeling."
"like?"
at this point lando knew he had strong feelings for you too, except his feelings might've been a little different than yours so maybe that's why he did what he did.
lando groaned before putting his head down into his hands. "well maybe because i love her and i feel like i could may- potentially marry her or something along those lines." he quickly muttered out. "i hate these stupid feelings."
daniel smirked and patted his back. "there you go buddy."
now he had finally realized why he was scared of commitment because you made him really think about his future with you, his whole life he wanted to be a formula one racer and he knew that getting married and creating a family was supposed to be for after but you made him change his mind about that.
that had been a week ago and since then lando was pissed.
"yes it was wrong for charles saying it was nothing serious and later that day bringing her to his hotel room but i mean she did tell you she didn't want to work it out anymore." max told him over the phone. "just let her go man."
max saw the way lando looked at you with hearts in his eyes whenever you were around but he also knew you were starting to get inside of lando's head, he was no longer thinking of his career the way he used to because of you.
"you're only saying that because you don't like her..." lando said as he sat himself on the couch and hugged on a blanket that you had gifted him for when he traveled. "if it was luisa, you would've told me to get her back."
"i do like her but i just feel like this is all happening so fast."
he continued to listen to max's rant as he went to go open the door after hearing someone knocking.
"just a few weeks ago you were just hooking up with her and now it's you're in love with her."
"umm max, i'll call you later."
before max could even register his words, lando had already hung up and was now looking at you standing in front of his door.
the both of you hadn't spoken for almost two whole weeks and now here you were — your hair was perfectly curled, you had on his sweatpants that he left at your place awhile back and a hoodie on.
"you look beautiful..." he mumbled as he opened the door wider for you.
and instead of going right in, you wrapped your arms around him and he immediately wrapped his around your waist. "stop lying, i look homeless."
he chuckled before hugging you even harder. "even so, you still look beautiful."
you softly pinched his back at his joke and after you guys ended up in his living room, he held onto your hand not wanting to ask you about charles because he didn't want to risk that possibility of losing you to him.
but he had to.
"i saw the pictures with charles in brazil, did you..."
the truth was that you had gone to charles's hotel room because he wanted to talk to you about lando and at the moment you didn't so you had kissed him — charles kissed you back but before it could have gotten any further he stopped it and rested his forhead onto yours.
"are you and lando over?" he asked you.
you shrugged your shoulders. "i think so."
charles had grown to love you in the short time of knowing you but he knew you always went to him to get back at lando in a way.
"you know he loves you right?" he sat up and sighed. "daniel was able to get it out of him."
when you didn't say anything, he knew you what you wanted in this moment. "go, i'm sure he's probably waiting for you."
yet, you didn't go and instead you kissed him again.
"if he did love me, he wouldn't have done what he did." you whispered.
charles knew that he shouldn't let it get any further since he knew you were most likely going to go back to lando after all of this and it'll leave him heartbroken once again but if he could have you for just this short time, he'd take it.
"no of course not." you told lando and he sighed before hugging you.
"promise?"
you nodded. "i promise that's all that happened."
lando wasn't dumb, he knew that you had definitely hooked up with charles.
he just wasn't going to say anything about it.
before the both of you knew it, lando was once again inside of you — one arm on the side of your head and the other on your waist, his hips moving in hard thrusts.
"i love you, you know that right?"
you moaned out a little yes. "i love you too, so much..."
"i'm going to marry you, i swear and give you babies..." you nodded along as he continued to thrust into you. "we're going to be together forever."
you nodded knowing his words were true while creaming around him and he pushed into you with a final groan. "forever."
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thank you guys for reading, my requests are open!
f1 and f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
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mickyschumacher · 7 months
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NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)
𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.
Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.
When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.
While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.
You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.
In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.
The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.
The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.
It was ridiculous, to say the least.
No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.
After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.
Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.
You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.
Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.
And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.
You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.
You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.
Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.
You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.
And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.
You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.
You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.
The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.
Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.
But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.
The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.
The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.
And the headline? You won.
You fucking won.
You were F1's first female champion in history.
You made history... or, well, herstory?
Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.
But you won.
By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.
A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.
It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.
You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.
Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?
━━━━━━━━━━━
You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.
That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.
You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.
"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.
"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.
"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.
You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.
"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.
"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."
You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.
Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."
"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"
"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"
"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."
No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.
You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."
"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."
"Because you didn't deserve it!"
You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.
Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"
"Get out," You grumbled.
Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.
"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."
You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Four days.
You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.
Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.
What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?
What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?
Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.
To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.
You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.
You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.
You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.
Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...
Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.
All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.
You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.
"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.
You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.
An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.
You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.
Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.
You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.
Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."
You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."
Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"
"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.
Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."
You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"
"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.
Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.
He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.
And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."
You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"
Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.
And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."
You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"
Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."
"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.
Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.
Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"
Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"
You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."
Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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jiminjamms · 6 months
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sex therapy :: 21. daddy toji
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chapter tags/warnings: **can be read as a stand-alone!** daddy toji, in every sense of the word. toji also calls himself daddy. unprotected sex. creampies. megumi is down the hall! masturbation. exhibitionism. toji likes that it’s his cousin’s wife that he’s fucking. infidelity/adultery. possessiveness. sexual frustration. degradation. praising. pet names (‘princess’ and ‘sweetheart’). manipulative undertones. family drama. strong language.
word count: 3.6k
notes: tattooed dr. fushiguro can only be a gentleman for so long when it's his little cousin's wifey around. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo
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fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.
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“Why don’t you give daddy a show?”
Nothing could make you feel more exposed than this very moment on Toji Fushiguro’s bathroom counter—your bosom heaving from irregular breaths, your arms holding up your body, and your legs spreading across the granite surface so that you could offer up a good view. So that you could put your naked self on display. 
Just for him. Just for your sex therapist.
Just for Dr. Fushiguro.
You gulped while pressing your back against the cold ceramic walls, hoping for some relief from your impending humiliation. “E-Excuse me?” 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” Toji crooned, and the pet name had your heart skipping a beat. Lazily, he dragged a lone finger from your stomach to your center, prodding right at your soaking entrance despite your efforts to shrink away. “Don’t be shy. I’m just your therapist. Let me see what you’ve learned.” 
With much endearment, he watched you writhe. Being in the spotlight scared you, but he knew you would hate to disappoint. 
At the very least, you should demonstrate some appreciation. 
“Like what?” you asked, voice barely above a squeak.
“Well,” and amusement riddled his grin, “show daddy what he had taught you, baby.”
And goodness did all this daddy talk really turn you on. Toji could see how your figure tensed at the words, how you clenched around nothing from sheer need. (Did you think he would not notice?)
“Please,” you sighed, poorly hiding how your breath hitched. “Please don’t call yourself that.”
“Call myself what?”
Obviously a rhetorical question, yet Toji loved the bafflement on your ditzy face nevertheless.
“You know…‘daddy,’” you murmured, uncomfortable to the point you were staring at the floor as you spoke. “Because as someone who loves my dad, and hearing this from someone who actually is a dad, I find the name…disturbing.”
Disturbing but also hot, and Toji could tell. 
“Don’t lie, princess. You like when I call myself that,” he chuckled. Pinching at your waist, he chortled in that same giddy manner whenever he felt particularly amused. “So, who’s going to be daddy’s obedient little girl?”
He noticed that you were doing that thing again whenever you were a little nervous: pursing your lips into a quivering pout and twisting at the meaningless rings on your fourth digit. Too loyal for your own good. Maybe that was what Naoya really loved about you, enough to keep you as his cute little trophy wife. 
Swallowing loudly, in the end, you responded, “Me.”
Using one uneven breath to center yourself, your hands steadily grazed over your hips and your thighs before your dear fingers rested above your clit. Nothing could beat the embarrassment from how you flinched at your own contact. 
Here went nothing. 
Timidly, you drew your middlemost fingers through your folds and circled the digits around your entrance. The opening was warm, sensitive, and utterly soaked. The slick that had slipped past those puffy lips allowed you to push one, and then two fingers inside as your back arched gently at the stimulation. 
A dull pleasure started to thrum in your body especially as you brought your ample juices back in using slow, deliberate motions.
To much frustration, your dainty digits couldn’t quite stroke that special spot within you with much expertise. Why wasn’t Toji helping? You wanted him to help. But, if you didn’t think too hard, you could lose yourself in the sensuality of your ministrations and imagine Toji’s fingers curling inside you instead. His fingers were larger and thicker and longer, after all. 
While Toji’s true emotions had always been as mystifying as the man himself, never had that troubled you more than now. Those steely green eyes had been staring at you for what felt like hours now. 
Did he like what he saw? Did he want more?
The people pleaser within you was just looking for a reaction—any reaction—to validate the hard and honest work you were putting in. 
“Good kitty,” he complimented suddenly, as though he had been reading you like an open book all along. He did not realize since when, but he had begun stroking his cock through his pants. 
How could he not? You had been listening so well, and his free hand reached down to rub tight circles at your puffy clit. 
“Toji!” you shrieked immediately, body caving in. 
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he commanded, dipping his index and middle fingers in as well, his thumb still drawing tight movements at your precious button.
His fingers slid against yours, aided by the thick coat of arousal that lubricated the movements, and his dick twitched from excitement, a situation exacerbated when he relished in the way you angled your hips to accommodate all four fingers plunging into your sopping cunt.
“Don’t stop working on yourself.” 
“I won’t,” you struggled to whimper. 
“This is nice, isn’t it? When someone else is touching you, too.” His statement was softened by the same tone he liked to use when playing that ‘friendly neighborhood sex therapist’ role. “Your fingers are delicate, but they can’t reach all the places mine can, can they?” 
“No, they can’t,” you breathed out in helpless agreement, shaking pathetically at the combined ministrations. “Everything feels better when you are the one finger fucking me.”
Toji hummed deeply in satisfaction. “I know, princess.” 
He lowered his head to press his lips into your jaw, but the subtle softness in his searing kisses convinced you to tilt your head gently and bring your unoccupied hand up to run up his hard triceps and dig into the jet-black ink peeking from his sleeves. 
In response, Toji sank his teeth into your skin every so often, eliciting your squeals. 
Painful. Yes, this was painful.
But more than painful, the gush that flooded your veins was fucking phenomenal.
“What’s wrong?” Toji asked innocently, biting harder as your nails pressed visible crescent marks into his tattoos. “I only want to taste you,” and he soothed the sore spots by licking the assaulted areas, just to repeat the process on another target.
Pussy feeling empty but needy, you shifted on the countertop in order to grind desperately against your therapist’s clothed crotch.
“Please,” you mewled, now begging for Toji’s attention rather than cowering away. “Please fuck me.”
Funny.
Just an hour ago, you were bawling about your loser husband. Naoya Zenin this. Naoya Zenin that. Well, duh. Of course, his baby cousin was an asshole partner. 
Now, here you were, pleading for Toji Fushiguro’s cock?
Toji rewarded your change of heart with a deep kiss pressed on your lips, a gesture that you passionately reciprocated. Even as he devoured your mouth like a starved man, your tongue fought like a maniac into his mouth, satisfied sighs slipping from your lips to his. 
Only when there was an unexpected slam coming from Megumi’s door did you two pull away, faces only centimeters apart and connected by an almost translucent string of saliva. 
Toji panted, watching your chest rise and fall from similarly irregular breathing. 
If nothing else stopped him, he would be falling onto his knees right now from how dazed you appeared: face flushed, lips parted, and lids heavy. 
But both he and you had one concern in mind right now. 
Megumi. 
Given the sound earlier, Toji awaited footsteps from the younger Fushiguro. 
Was he grabbing a midnight snack from the kitchen downstairs? Was he planning to pace the halls to alleviate stress?
Or worse yet, was he heading to the bathroom?
If his son really did walk into this scene, discovering what his father was doing to his sweet and pretty guest several doors away, Toji would be speechless because the idea was purely mortifying. 
Also a little sexy.
But anyway.
“I’m sure he just closed and locked his door for the evening,” Toji deduced when the boy’s footsteps never came. 
Immediately, your shoulders slumped with ensuing relief.  
“Thank goodness,” you sighed, still tense and high-strung. “We don’t want Megumi to hear us,” you pointed out, completely oblivious to how loud you had been when merely kissing. “Let’s wait for him to sleep first. I don’t want us to get caught.” 
The way you cared this much was adorable. 
“Why would we have to wait, though?” Toji pointed out, and his tongue swiped over his scar. “I can be quiet. But the real question is: can you be quiet?” 
At first, you were stunned and silent.
But after a long while, you gulped and your neck bobbed noticeably. "Yeah. I…can be quiet, too.” 
“Good girl," and at that, Toji flashed a quick and lascivious grin. “Then, why don’t we test that out?”
Not waiting for your reply, he grabbed the collar of his white shirt and dragged the top off his shoulders.
His movements were slow, just so he could catch your marveling reaction as he revealed his bare torso, but the fabric had been too fitting and tight for his body anyway. 
As soon as he pulled his shirt over his head and off his body, your eyes locked on his body to admire his brawny and toned physique. But more stunningly was how Toji Fushiguro was a mural of tattoos, intricate artworks that had been carefully selected and embedded into his torso—stylized letters, entwined violets, and hyper-realistic scenery. What demanded the most attention, though, was a prominent phoenix that covered his right chest, emerging victorious from a plume of smoke and ashes, its feathers spanning into his shoulder and back. 
Easily, you were enchanted. You didn't have a chance to view his tattoos before. But Toji himself had always been enchanting.
“Come closer,” the man commanded, tone low and gravelly. He dragged his waistband down until his hardened dick sprang free with great force. His cock was swollen and red and violently angry, precum beading at the tip after he had long neglected himself from his release. "I’ve missed you."
You shifted forward on the countertop.
“Then do anything to me.”
Just to test you, he experimented a little, pinching your nipples with the knuckles of his fingers and smiling like a mad dog when you squeaked. "Anything?" 
"Yes," you breathed out, nodding and back arching into his touch. 
Obviously, you were too lost in arousal to comprehend the power placed into your tattooed therapist's hands, and Toji silently wished that Naoya Zenin could hear his wife begging for someone else like this. 
He patted your cheek and cooed. 
So silly, so cock drunk, so desperate.
That was what you were, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. 
You reached between your legs to grab at his dick, lining the tip up to your entrance as Toji groaned from the contact.
"How are you so wet for me?” he hissed, gritting his teeth hard. 
“Please, please, come on—” After a long bout of negligence, you had become incredibly whiny and desperate, seeking attention and affection like never before. “I’m too turned on. Just…please ruin me.”
Toji had been close to bursting already, but an intense flash stifled him when your words registered as music to his ears, his large hands helping you swipe his dick between your folds slowly. Teasing them both.
He had been well lubricated from the precum that slipped from the head, his massive cock so hard from the anticipation that awaited such that he could feel electricity buzzing at his fingertips. All because he couldn't handle himself when you begged for him like this. Yet, Toji resolved to fuck you with everything he had—for as long as he could, anyway—and slipped himself gradually into your warm and moist heat. 
Shudders.
All that filled the room were shudders.
Toji’s eyes darkened as he pressed through the tight resistance, your muscles squeezing around his length. He had to will every fiber within him to not lose himself. He was this close to falling apart, unraveling. Because holy shit, were you fucking tight. 
Beneath him, you suppressed a whimper. 
“Damn,” you sputtered, abandoning any remaining hesitation and clenching around him. Compared to his pathetic cousin, your therapist was not small by any means. "You feel so good inside of me, Toji."
Ah, hell.
He needed to get you to relax. He could barely move and, if your walls squeezed him any harder, he might just be hurled over the edge and cum all over your thighs, staining your freshly showered body. 
“Oh,” he managed to hum in contentment, closing his eyes momentarily so that he could shut down all other senses except for one. His arms wobbled a little, his hands digging hard into your sides as his hips moved slowly—very, very slowly—out before going back in again. 
At the languid thrusts, your head fell back and your hips lifted upon instinct, one hand pressed against the counter for stability as the other skimmed over his tattoos. He's so hot. You're so hot. He makes you feel so hot.
Toji growled again when your fingers brushed against the inked phoenix's wings, gliding over his pectoral muscle. He loved being touched like this and only wanted you to examine him more, rewarding you with movements wholly deep and stimulating.
As moans flowed freely from your mouth, Toji would tell you to shut up. After all, Megumi dwelled only a few doors away and must not be forgotten. But how could Toji bring himself to hush the sweet sounds that you sang?
“Yes, just like that,” you whined at some point, fingers clawing into his chest. “Fuck. Fuck, Toji.”
He raised a disapproving brow. “Just Toji?”
“Fuck, daddy.”
And Toji lost his fucking mind.
Since when did you talk like this? Pretty princess with a potty mouth. Who would’ve thought? It was sexy. So goddamn sexy. 
"You’re incredible,” he found himself saying. 
Toji had never been harder than he was at this moment, his cock like a fucking titanium rod as his listless movements degraded into an onslaught, throbbing and twitching as he replayed your dirty words in his head. 
He felt extraordinarily horny, aroused, and invigorated. 
Meanwhile, you looked like a fucking fairy—his fucking fairy, to be clear: features glowing golden under the ambient lights, pupils dilated and blown out wide, skin glistening from both water and sweat. 
Long ago, Toji figured that you had given up in your attempts to get away from him, the sole struggle from your body being how your walls involuntarily twitched and tensed amidst the storm of pleasure and pain he had brewing within your core. 
If only Toji had more hands. That way, he could simultaneously pull at your hair, wrap his fingers around your neck, and swat at your bouncing tits.
In a moment like this, he hated having to choose and grabbed your legs in the end, moving them from the counter to his shoulders. Toji could now go even deeper, and boy, did this new angle  have you seeing stars. 
“Oh, goodness,” you blubbered, coughing and drooling and panting. “Oh, that feels so good.”
“I know,” Toji said arrogantly.
Lucky for you, he was a mature man who could hold his load. Other boys didn’t know shit. If they were in his current position, they would have busted their nuts long ago, too impulsive and easily excited to exert much self-control. 
Toji, on the other hand, knew how to dig his fat cock into your cervix over and over, brushing that one special spot within you along the way. To make you scream. To keep you addicted. To take his cousin’s wife at his mercy.
The room filled with sounds that resulted from skin contacting skin—squelches and wet smacks—and you were left loud and messy, feeling so good that you could not think straight. 
“Shit, you’re so good to me. Can’t get enough of this pussy,” he grunted, hand pulling back before connecting with the meat of your ass with one loud  slap. 
You cried out, fighting back tears that welled from the pain. “That… hurts!”
“But my kitten loves being roughened up, no?” he taunted, licking at his scar again as he observed you: love bites littered over your neck, nipples perked into pebbles, skin marked and slightly bruised.
“I,” several huffs in between, “I can’t take this for much longer. I’m so close. I think I’m going to—”
“Only if you tell me who owns you.”
His words made you whine, and the therapist took great pleasure in the way you contorted. The demand had taken you by surprise because Toji had never denied you the right to your pleasure before. In fact, he had always been the type to coax you to cum, telling you to cream all over him instead.
Tonight, however, he wanted to set things straight. For a while, he had been thinking that he ought to buy you a collar just so you would remember who you actually belonged to—who really taught you what sex feels like—and heat tore through his skin again from the fantasy. 
Admittedly, Toji was a tad bit possessive. 
But he needed to drill into your head that you were not Sukuna’s or Choso’s or Geto’s. 
And most certainly, not  Naoya Zenin’s. 
“Well?” He was fully aware of what was happening and taking true delight in your futile struggle, knowing exactly what you needed but wanting you to obey him first. Snaking an arm around your body, he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear and purred, “Who knows how to fuck you right?”
“Toji Fushiguro does,” you chanted, lacing your fingers with his, your body in sheer pain from need. “Guys my age could never.”
Which was exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Then cum for me, baby.”
So, you did.
His permission sent you vaulting over the edge, your whole body spasming as your orgasm ripped through.
Your lips parted. Your cheeks hollowed. Your arms wavered.
Despite everything, you continued begging for his cock harder, faster, just like that. At some point, the hand once tangled with your therapist’s now slotted into your mouth to muffle any exclamations of pleasure as the waves continued to ripple fiercely through your body. Throwing your head back against the wall, you could dully feel your teeth puncture the skin between your thumb and pointer finger. Yet, that didn’t bother you, didn’t even hurt, and only served to add to your masochistic satisfaction as your cunt fluttered and clenched around him. 
“What a good girl.”
Toji was remorseless as he continued his abuse, the tendons of his hands and arms flexing from the effort needed to keep your lower body still, the tattoos on his wrists appearing pitch black under the glimmer of your juices. The wetness that spilled from you was so abundant, dripping down onto the floor. With any luck, once this was all over, you would have left a mess such that Toji would be forced to assign Megumi to bathroom cleaning duty in the morning.
"I'm gonna cum inside you, baby," was what he managed to say just as his gut suddenly tensed. He couldn't even control it. Without further warning, thick ropes of semen shot from him and into your womb. He grunted loudly, lurid fantasies dissipating as his mind went blank from his climax, his own groan hardly recognizable from how guttural his voice had become.
“Give me all your cum, daddy,” you wailed as you came again, pussy tightening impossibly on his cock and practically massaging every single drop out of him.
Toji was not done, he didn’t want to be done. 
Despite his blurred vision and terse jaw, Toji wanted to give you every ounce that he was worth. He gritted his teeth as he fucked up into you, pace irregular and sloppy. He made sure to push every possible milliliter of his seed deep into your stomach, the rest of his load spilling against his balls. 
His cock was far too sensitive and overstimulated, but he felt  so goddamn good that he wanted to keep going and going until he was completely spent with nothing more to give.
“Fuck,” he choked, on the brink of tears. 
Toji had to take a moment to recover fully, keeping his eyes closed while his chest heaved from the sheer exertion of his orgasm. His breathing was deep, wet, and haggard, and he was blistering hot even without clothes on. His slicked-back hair was soaked with sweat and hung limply in front of his flushed face. As he slumped over, he sensed a new pain in his shoulder, and he guessed that he must have strained something without noticing. Cum inevitably dribbled from your hole as he pulled out, splattering on the floor and mixing with your juices earlier.
He strode toward the bathroom closet, grabbing additional towels.
After wrapping them around you and himself, Toji brought you close to his frame and directed you into his bedroom diagonally across the hall. The rest of the night was quiet, especially since you both were consumed by exhaustion and post-coital haze. You rolled onto his canopied bed without sound, Toji lying next to you and pulling you snugly against his chest. After ensuring that you were okay, he kissed the sweet temple by your forehead and the bruises on your collar, smiling softly when you hummed in response. 
He could hardly recall the last time he had felt so warm and so content, wanting nothing more than to cling onto this moment for as long as he could. In the back of his head, his conscience scolded him harshly. He still owed you plenty of explanations. For how he had been hiding his family, his relationships, and his original motive in using you to help him get back at his enemies. 
Yet, as he pushed aside these intrusive thoughts and murmured to you ‘Goodnight,’ one thing became clear:
Toji Fushiguro was far too selfish to let you go.
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end notes: This is my first time writing smut that comprehensively includes Toji’s POV. While we have always gotten Y/N's POV in sex, I wanted to include Toji's perspective so that we could get into his psyche a little since he's battling his own demons as well.
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xoxoskai · 5 months
Text
NIKOBRAN HEADCANNONS
to keep you going this last week before God of Fury drops<3
Between all his sons-in-law, Brandon is Kyle's favorite.
Levi's is Mia (cousin-fuckers who stole his son and daughter he'll always beef with)
Brandon and Niko are the type of relatives to wear matching clothes on Christmas because Niko would take up any chance to wear matching anything with Brandon.
If and when Brandon bakes, no one gets a chance to even taste what he made before Niko devours it all.
The only place Niko can fall asleep in at record speed is Brandon's arms.
The only reason Niko teaches Brandon how to drive a bike is so he can put his arms around his boyfriend's slutty waist boyfriend.
Remi is terrified on Brandon's behalf.
"Bran, yes, he's hot but mate, look at that guy! He has some skin on those tattoos!"
Astrid shares Remi's concerns but soon comes to find out that Niko is the biggest goofball of sunshine and almost adopts him.
Surprisingly, the one who takes the longest to accept Brandon is Rai. Because it's not her first time meeting the Kings (hello, she's a far relative) and she's worried that her oldest who is actually tender hearted and plagued by demons of his past, might be crushed beyond repair if Brandon hurt him.
Brandon and Landon think they can get away with tricking their in-laws by dressing as each other but they underestimate the Sokolov-Hunters who told them apart the moment they walked in.
Brandon tried it on Niko once when he first divulged about how Maya and Mia used to do it, but Niko could tell Brandon apart from his "psycho" brother in a heartbeat.
"It's your eyes" He had murmured. "Yours sparkle"
Glyndon is weary of Niko but as long as Brandon's happy, she's happy.
Landon is supremely unhappy.
When Landon first opposes their relationship by threatening Niko, Niko flings back "Remember who you're dating and what I mean to them" back at him.
Niko and Landon almost kill each other multiple times.
If there's someone even more unhappy than Landon, it's Crieghton.
Creighton: "Does this mean I can't fight him anymore?" Elsa: "Why were you fighting him before this?!" Creighton: "Is anyone else hearing this buzzing? I should go check."
Niko goes feral whenever he sees Brandon shirtless and vice-versa but
Niko is always shirtless, so Brandon is always suffering.
Unlike Niko, Brandon doesn't carry him into a dark corner to immediately fuck.
If there's no scene of Brandon asking Niko "Who's fucking you?" Rina, you'll hear from my therapist. And if there's not a single, evil, unhinged Brandon moment where Niko is flabbergasted at the change and is accusing him of being two-faced at which Brandon will laugh, lean in and ask tauntingly "What are you going to do? Tell on me?" I will sue.
Brandon's muse is Niko. (Bitch, I said what I said)
Unlike Landon, Brandon doesn't divulge this piece of information to his boyfriend because he does not want to give Niko even more reasons to walk around with lesser clothes.
Brandon gets a tattoo for Niko on his ribs. (cue feral Nikolai)
After which Niko tries to get Brandon's name tattooed on his favorite organ, but Jeremy literally deadlocks the door to his room to keep him inside after Niko asked for opinions in their group chat about his decision.
Niko: You don't think it's romantic? Jeremy, Killian, Gareth, Landon, Eli, Creighton, Remi:
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They've definitely rolled around in paint and fucked on a canvas after it. Niko would display it in the entryway of their house if Brandon let him.
They've also joined the mile high club.
After they get engaged, Brandon calls him by his full-name as in "Nikolai Sokolov-Hunter-King" just to piss him off but Nikolai loves being associated to Brandon in every possible way, so it backfires.
Their wedding bands have each other's name inscribed in them.
As does the underside of their ring fingers in the other's handwriting.
Nikolai tries drawing a heart over the i in his name and almost gets smacked.
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prettypei · 8 months
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plot: satosugu bf headcanons (seperately); fluff!
reader: gn! Reader
parings: highschool! geto, gojo
warnings:none?? I don’t think so
(a/n): SUGURU ON THE MIND!!!! esp after that new ep gawd damn
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✰GOJO
HES SUCH A LOSER BF
like you knew it from the way he asked you out
he planned to ask you out by making a cake that said "date me?" on it
he thought it was romantic
but gojo srsly cant cook
he even though he really likes sweets he cant even fry an egg so the cake turned out something like... imagine the worst cake possible with frosting everywhere and the message on top of the cake is unreadable and the cake is a weird brown color? yeah its like that
you agreed to go out with him anws
if you ever get in a fight hes definitely pullin up to fight with you, no matter how wrong you are
"cats are dogs" "yea they're basically animals so they're the same!"
will ask to copy homework EVERY. SINGLE TIME.
he claims that he trusts you like you grades vould be going downhill and he would still borrow urs
is the type of person to accidentally copy the name too
such a virgin everyone says he's a major f-boy but in reality he has never felt another person touch him romantically
he gives you goofy grins whenever he does sth stupid (and when he does it's mostly bc he wants to see you laugh)
calls you the most ridiculous pet names "sugar bby pookie bear"
also likes referring to you as candies like he called you liquorice one time???
has a habit of applying lip gloss... like A LOT.
"can I kiss u babe" "yeah lemme put on lip gloss rq" *proceedes to spend 10 whole minutes smacking his lips and applying lip gloss*
really big on pda hes suuupperrrr into it, but he'll tone it down if you're uncomfortable
if ur into it tho? he kisses you every two secs
TAKES THE WORST DATING ADVICE EVER FROM THE TRIO
"guys where shld I bring (name) on a date?" "Bring her to a sewer, that way they'll be scared and hug you."-geto "idk a therapist?"-shoko (in the end you were just grossed out, but he somehow makes it sweet and wholesome at the same time?)
✰GETO
he texts you a lot of memes (I'm sure this is widely agreed throughout the fandom lol)
doesn't hug you a lot in public but he does wrap his arm around your shoulder
he wouldn't be reallyyyy affectionate but if you are he'll accept your hugs with a little smile
he likes my melody more than kuromi
his love language is quality time, sometimes you'll spend dates just lounging out on the couch and doing nothing. However, he thinks it's much nicer than just being by himself
really great memory, he notices those small details about you that no one else does, or even the ones you're unaware of like when you always fold a napkin when you're at a restaurant yk hes cute like that
asks the weirdest questions ever: "do you think I'm a squirrel or a chipmunk?" respond with "I think you're an idiot" QUICK!!!
he gets super moody when his hair ties are missing, he has a whole bag of them at his dorm
allows you to give him silly hairstyles when he's sleepin <3
loves truth or dare and 20 questions
has a weird obsession with puzzles and he likes it if he’s piecing one together with you
he also gets competitive without knowing. Like even with you if you guys are at an arcade and you win him at basketball hoops he’s bitter
”let’s do it again I was not ready” “you said that 5 times and I still won” “NO”
he believes in astrology stuff
is more emotionally attracted to people than physically
he may come off as cold but he just doesn’t express as much as gojo
he sometimes paints (mostly watercolor) and a lot of them are of you or are inspired by you <333
MY POOKIE!!! Free my man he did nothing wrong!!!!
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hoshieeyewrinkles · 2 months
Note
Dark wonbin who wants his younger brother's gf or wife. He saw his chance one day and didn't let go of the opportunity
[ Have it all ]
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Trigger warning: cheating, loser Sohee, slight degradation, blowjob.
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"Thank you, you are always so sweet. My doll." He thanked, his gaze sweeping over every inch of your body. You smiled, attempting to push aside the uncomfortable feeling; he is your boyfriend's older brother, for goodness sake; of course, you are like a child to him, which is why he called you his doll in an endearing way, right?
"Where are you going?" He inquired as he set his plate aside after finishing the pasta you prepared for him. You gave him a quick glance as you noticed how close he leaned to you. "Out with sohee" you replied, you had a date planned with sohee who was currently upstairs playing video games while you were here left alone with his older brother.
Wonbin let out a sigh that dripped with fake concern, finishing it off with a chuckle that sounded more like a smirk. "Seriously, you're like an angel,doll" he drawled, voice smooth as butter. "Always picking up his slack, cooking fancy meals he probably doesn't even appreciate, and cheering him on like his personal hype squad when he gets owned in his games. Makes me kinda, y'know, sad for you, sweets." He clicked his tongue and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear in a way that felt more practiced than sweet.
"Don't you deserve better?" His question hung in the air like a loaded question. You gulped, the truth of his words burning a hole in your stomach. He wasn't wrong. You were more like Sohee's mom than his girlfriend, his therapist instead of his partner and sexual pleasure? It was something you never got from Sohee. It was embarrassing to even try having sex with him because he knew nothing, it was pathetic to say the least but you still love him and Sohee loved you, in his own kinda immature way, and sex isn't the only thing which matters right? You can definitely swallow down your frustrations.
"I'll leave now." You tried to sprint upstairs but he held your wrist ''Always so eager to escape, doll'' he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes. ''Shying away and flushing whenever I'm near... wouldn't anyone mistake it for something more, hmm?'' you were momentarily shook at his audacity before you snapped back, giving him a venomous look "The only one with such delusions is you." Your words caused him to let out a chuckle as he was about to reply, Sohee came downstairs causing you to yank out your wrist from wonbin's grip.
"Baby, I won!" Sohee bounced on the couch, the screen of his phone flashing victory like a miniature lightning storm. You managed a tight smile, your mind churning with the unsettling encounter moments ago. Should you tell him about Wonbin's strange behaviour? Would he believe you? or shrug it off since sohee idolized his handsome brother the most, he always wanted to be like Wonbin. Talking about how he has everyone wrapped around his fingers, no one could ever deny him. He was all it.
"Oh, are we going somewhere?" Sohee asked noticing you dolled up, tilting his head, his eyes sparkling playfully. Your blank stare momentarily dimmed his enthusiasm, but he quickly countered with a wider smile "I guess we are. let me just grab my wallet baby!" Sohee chirped, already bounding up the stairs. His carefree laughter echoed down, each step lighter than a dandelion seed on a summer breeze
Your attention was brought back to Wonbin who let out a mocking chuckle leaning closer to you ear, "Think about what I said," he'd murmured, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. The glint in his eyes, usually full of pride, had held a chilling possessiveness, a stark contrast to his easygoing facade. It was an audacity born of privilege, of a world where his handsome face had always opened doors, the mere flicker of attention from you, his "loser" brother's chosen one, a personal affront to his inflated ego. How dare you look beyond his carefully crafted charm? He deserves to use you for his pleasure not his pathetic brother who can't even get himself to cum.
The entire date with sohee was silencing from your side, you spent most of the time replaying the scenes between you and Wonbin again and again. His sly touches, his longing gazes always did fluster you but you have never thought about having him. He is your boyfriend's brother after all. This was ridiculous of you to even think. He made you uncomfortable and uneasy, that's it.
When you were back from the date, sohee dropped you first at his home, saying he will be back in few minutes as he has some errands to run. You agreed hoping Wonbin isn't in the home currently but you were wrong when you were met with most weird sight ever, he was there sitting on the couch manspreading, his hands pumping his cock furiously as he let out soft moans. The sight had you gasping which caught his attention.
"Back from your little playdate baby?" He asked between his moans. "What the fuck!" You cursed out ready to run out and expose his behaviour to Sohee but instead of that you stood there watching, your feet refusing to move. Why weren't you running? "Come on doll, we all know my brother doesn't deserve you. I know it all."
"He can't even get you to cum, that sweet little pussy of yours deserves to be pleasured, by someone like me." His words had your eyes widened. How did he even know about your private sex life? Did Sohee tell him? Wonbin chuckled at your shocked expression, his hands still jerking off his cock "I know everything baby, let me give you the pleasure which he can never give you." You were supposed to agree or walk up to him but the way your deepest desires took over you. You found yourself on your knees in front of him, his cock deep in your mouth as he let out the nastiest and toe curling moans ever. Pulling on your hair he murmured, "So good, f-fuck. I'll give you twice as much pleasure baby" you rubbed your thighs together to find some relief which didn't go unnoticed by Wonbin who let out a chuckle at your desperation.
"You look so pretty doll, when you are not using your bitchy mouth to defend that little boyfriend of yours, your delicate hands look so pretty wrapped around my cock. I always knew you were a little slut inside, what will Sohee think? Have him watch us? Teach him one or two things, yeah?" His words caused to whimper on his cock as you felt your cheeks flush in humiliation. Wonbin gave a devilish grin feeling satisfied that he tore your walls down, he knew it, everyone deserves some good fucking and you were no better, After all who could ever deny him? He is the one with everything his brother lacks. He knew you were just pretending to be loyal to his loser brother, pretending to just love him, when he could not even pleasure your little pussy. Speaking of him-
"H-Hyung?"
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months
Text
Broken Heart Mender
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader
Summary: After hearing Tim tell Angela why he's not in a relationship with you, you pull away and make yourself sick with a broken heart. After too long without hearing from you, Tim finds you and promises to make everything better.
Warnings: reader gets sick (vomiting, headache, losing weight, crying), slight miscommunication, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort
Word Count: 2.4k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
Picture from Pinterest
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“You know, you’re here a lot for someone who doesn’t work here,” Smitty points out.
“And you’re here a lot for someone who doesn’t work at all,” you argue playfully.
“She’s got a point,” Tim adds, shrugging at Smitty’s offended look.
You smile at Tim as you walk out, needing to return to your own station after spending too long on paperwork (to visit Tim). He’s been your friend since you were a rookie, and now he’s so much more.
You and Tim are safe places for one another; whenever one needs it, the other becomes an unlicensed therapist, a no-strings-attached hugger or cuddler on bad days, and a good listener, no matter the time or problem. Part of why you’re so willing to do such things for Tim is because you have feelings for him, a long-harbored crush that grows each time he’s kind to you or asks for your advice.
Tim, however, will happily listen to your problems and provide a shoulder to cry on, but he prefers to show his care by being what some (Angela) might call a ‘protective menace.’ He’s had feelings for you for as long as he can remember and shows it by staying close and keeping you out of harm’s way.
Whenever you run into each other at work, you find a way to stay together, and while Tim protects you, you try your hardest to make him smile. You like doing small things for him to make him happy because he deserves it. Likewise, he stays close because you deserve more than anyone can ever give you.
The only problem is that you’re both scared to let your feelings show, so you disguise it as friendship, a special bond that no one can break. Only a few people, those willing to look, can see that there’s more to your actions and words than a time-tested and bulletproof friendship.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim sighs when he sees Angela sitting at his desk.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he asks.
“You have questions to answer,” she replies, moving out of his seat and blocking the door. “I want to know about you and your friend.”
Tim rolls his eyes at her tone and air quotes. She has asked him about you before, but she’s relentless.
“Why aren’t you in a real relationship? Why haven’t you asked her out?” Angela inquires.
“Not your business, Lopez,” Tim answers.
✯✯✯✯✯
You slow as you near Tim’s office, his voice and Angela’s drawing your attention as your smile drops.
“Just tell me why you won’t let her in that last little bit,” Angela demands.
“Not that it is any of your concern, but we won’t work. We’re not made for each other, we’re not soulmates, and we will not be good for each other, not like that,” Tim snaps.
Swallowing, you feel like your heart physically drops into your stomach, making you nauseous as you fight tears. You leave before Tim or Angela notice you’re outside, unwilling to see Tim after learning how he feels.
✯✯✯✯✯
“What does that mean, Timothy?” Angela asks, quieter as she digs for the real reason.
Tim shakes his head, not ready to admit that he doesn’t consider himself relationship material. Regardless, you deserve someone better than him, though he has never considered it the other way around: you are too good for him and always have been.
“You’re right, it’s not my business. But it is hers,” Angela reminds him before leaving.
✯✯✯✯✯
Distancing yourself from Tim is hard, but after his comments to Angela, it’s what you have to do. Tim doesn’t have feelings for you and thinks you aren’t good enough, which hurts. More than your feelings, you are mentally distraught. Your emotions are all over the place, swinging aimlessly from anger to denial to an overwhelming sadness that makes it impossible to do anything but cry.
After a long night of fighting with your emotions, you try to eat breakfast and realize that the hurt is physical, too. Rushing to the bathroom, you empty your stomach before moving to the floor as your tears continue. Losing Tim is the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, and this is only the beginning.
The alarm on your phone goes off, and you pull yourself off the bathroom floor and get ready, ignoring the pain building behind your eyes and the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach. It will be a long day, but if you can power through, you will take some time off next week.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim is neck-deep in paperwork for a Metro case, but every spare second he has is spent calling and texting you. You don’t answer, and Tim can't do anything as his worry increases. He realizes Angela was right, and you deserve to know how he feels and why he keeps you so close, yet not close enough.
✯✯✯✯✯
By the end of the day, you haven’t been able to keep a single thing down, and you’re not sure if the emotional or physical pain is worse. Collapsing onto your couch, you let the tears begin anew as your week of PTO begins and your life as you know it ends.
Each day seems worse than the last, as you get sicker and sadder with each passing moment. When you summon the courage to step on the scale on Sunday morning, just three days after hearing Tim’s comments, you’ve lost a concerning amount of weight. You know it’s dangerous, but between the constant crying and the anxiety and sadness eating at you, there isn’t much you can do. There isn’t much you want to do except find a way to make yourself good enough for Tim Bradford.
✯✯✯✯✯
It’s been days since Tim heard from you, and he’s worried. When Mid-Wilshire gets called to assist your station, he hopes to see you. Tim searches the crowd of blue until he finds your partner.
“Bradford,” your partner greets.
Tim asks where you are, curious as to why you aren’t together, and your partner explains that you’ve been off work since Saturday, sick with something.
“Do you know if she’s okay?” Tim asks.
“All I know is it has to be bad for her to take this much time off,” your partner explains with an apologetic shrug before being called away.
Tim’s protectiveness kicks into overdrive, his worry keeping him from being able to focus on anything else. He finds his captain and tells him what's going on before asking if he can go check on you.
As he drives to your apartment, Tim hopes it’s not as bad as it sounds while beating himself up for not coming to visit you sooner. The ignored calls should have been a sign that something was wrong, but he let work get in the way. Though you aren’t there to hear it, Tim promises he will never neglect you again.
✯✯✯✯✯
It takes a minute to realize that the pounding sound is someone knocking and not an effect of your headache. Stumbling to the door, you answer it without checking who it is. When you see Tim’s face, you try to close the door, but you’re too weak, and Tim is too quick.
He rushes inside, looking at your pale face, unruly hair, and how your clothes hang off of you: an indicator you're unhealthily losing weight. It’s enough to push his protective side to action even as he fears the worst.
“You should go,” you tell him.
Tim ignores you, walking to your kitchen and setting water on the oven to boil. While he waits, Tim straightens up your apartment, moving quickly from room to room. He hasn’t spoken to you yet, and as you watch him, your emotions take over again.
With a few tears running down your face, you raise your voice and say his name. “You need to go.”
“No,” he answers simply. “You need help, you’re obviously sick and you’re not answering my calls.”
Tim's presence and how he acts like nothing has changed, and he’s still the protective friend he pretends to be, hurts you.
“Tim, get out!” you demand.
“Let me help,” he argues.
Shaking your head, you walk to your room and close the door, curling around your pillow as you cry. Each noise Tim makes in the kitchen feels like he’s laughing at you, and you don’t know how much more of this you can take.
He lets himself into your room after knocking, setting a mug of tea beside your bed, and rubbing your back. He notices how you stiffen but thinks it’s because you’re sick.
“What do you want to eat?” he asks.
“I want you to go.”
Tim nods, more to himself than you, and walks out of your bedroom. 
You hear the door close behind him and roll over, unable to decide if you want to drink the tea or throw it at the wall.
✯✯✯✯✯
The following morning, you wake, and the first thing you remember is Tim leaving yesterday. Yes, you asked him to, but it still hurts. The cold mug beside your bed is a cruel reminder of everything you’ve lost. Rolling out of bed, you reach for the water on the nightstand. After the first drink, you race for the bathroom, wondering how long it takes for a broken heart to heal.
Someone pulls your hair out of your face, a kind hand pressed to your back as you cry. When you feel able, you lean back against the tub behind you. Tim moves back, wetting a washcloth before he kneels beside you. As he wipes your face and neck with the cool rag, you wonder what he’d do if you gave him an out.
“I heard what you said,” you admit quietly. “That we wouldn’t be good together.”
Tim slows his movements as he listens to you.
“It hurt.”
Fresh tears break over your waterline, tracking down your cheeks. Tim realizes that he’s the reason you feel so bad; that one comment made to protect his feelings, to hide them, made you feel so bad that you’re now physically sick.
“Hey,” he begins, moving to sit before you when you turn away. “Listen, I know you don’t want to believe me, but I only said that to get Angela to leave me alone, to protect myself. I don’t think that.”
“But you said it,” you point out tearily.
“I know, and I’m sorry. The truth is we wouldn’t be good together, but not because of you, never because of you. It’s me; I am not made for relationships and I’m not good enough for you.”
You choke on a sob, leaning toward Tim. He extends his arm, letting you move against his side.
“Since we met, I’ve wanted more,” he whispers against your hair. “But I was scared you’d realize I’m broken and leave… like everyone else.”
Shaking harder against his side, you cling to him as all your emotions mix. There is a chance this is a dream, but if you have to lose Tim, this seems like the best way to say goodbye.
“C’mon,” Tim urges gently, pulling you with him as he stands.
With a gentle hand on your back and one on your shoulder, Tim leads you to the couch. Covering you with a blanket, he promises to come right back. When he returns with a glass of water and a pack of crackers, you turn toward him.
“Are you going to leave?” you whisper.
Tim shakes his head. “Never.”
Nodding, you accept the crackers. After you eat a few and drink half the water Tim gave you, you sit back.
“I cleaned your apartment last night,” Tim tells you. “You want to change and clean up?”
You take a deep breath, and Tim senses your apprehension before adding, “I’ll help you.”
Taking Tim’s hand, you follow him back into your bedroom. After you change into the clothes he hands you, you sit on the bathroom vanity and let him wash your face and secure your hair.
“When’s the last time you ate? More than a few bites, I mean,” Tim asks, laying a hand on your thigh.
You shrug before admitting, “Last Wednesday.”
Tim’s jaw clenches, but he hides it with a quick nod. “I’m going to make you some more food. I know you probably don’t want to eat, and you don’t have to eat much, but you need something.”
Moving your hand onto Tim’s, you interlace your fingers with his. He leans in, releasing a chuckle when you throw your arms around his neck. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you to the edge of the vanity.
“I missed you,” you whisper in his ear.
“I missed you too,” he responds.
✯✯✯✯✯
As you dry the ends of your hair while you exit the bathroom, you feel like a new person.
“We need to talk,” Tim says when he sees you. Your smile falls, and Tim takes your hand. “Not like that,” he promises.
“Like what?” you ask, curling your legs under you as you sit beside him.
“I meant what I said, but I need to make sure you know that. I have feelings for you, I have for a long time, I’m just terrified to show them because I’m not good enough for you.”
Boldly, you press your finger to his lips to stop him. He raises his brows at your movement, smiling with you.
“Yes, you are. You’re more than good enough. That’s why I fell in love with you.”
Tim pulls your hand away from his face, kissing your finger as he does so. “Even though I broke your heart and made you sick?”
“Broken heart sickness is curable, and you’re a pretty good doctor,” you tease, leaning toward him.
“I promise to make it better, and never do it again.”
You nod, trusting him entirely. Now that you’ve had a shower and heard that Tim feels the same, your stomach growls.
“It’s working already,” Tim says.
“I’m hungry again,” you marvel, smiling at Tim.
“I’ll offer a trade,” Tim begins. “A home-cooked meal for you, and a kiss for me.”
You nod, but Tim adds, “And I promise never to lie to protect myself again. I’ll tell you exactly how I feel, as long as you do the same.”
“I feel like I love you, Tim Bradford,” you reply, pulling him in for the promised kiss.
Your kiss is better than he expected, and Tim loses himself in the feeling of you until your stomach growls again, and you laugh against his lips. Tim broke your heart, but he put it back together with a piece of his; the best-broken-heart-mender in the world was by your side all along.
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gildedlead · 4 months
Text
All of the Wayne kids’ favorite Leaguers: True and Real and Accurate
Dick: Wonder Woman! Bear with me. Please. I think Superman was his favorite BEFORE he met Clark. Once he learned how big of a dork he was, the magic was sort of lost, doubly so when Clark became his unofficial stepdad. Diana? She stayed cool. Not to mention that in his Robin days, she often humored whatever hare-brained impulses he’d get. Please picture Batman’s bewildered expression when he finds Dick dangling from the Watchtower light fixture he specifically designed to be impossible for him to reach. Diana just, -shrug- “He said please.” You threw him Diana. You threw that child. She’d probably still throw him if he asked nicely, hell, she’d probably do it even before he has to ask. It’s ‘Boy Wonder’, not ‘Boy Bat’.
Jason: Black Canary. ‘Wonder Woman is Jason’s fav’ believers PLEASE hear me out. I think that Diana is Jason’s favorite in a ‘celebrity crush’ way, but Dinah is Jason’s favorite in a ‘cool aunt’ way. He met her unofficially at the Watchtower, but actually started hanging out with her thanks to Roy. They both like motorcycles and kicking ass, plus Young Justice having Canary as a therapist melds well with my vision of her helping Jason heal. And I think she’s used to yelling at Bruce on Oliver’s behalf, so it’s no big to do it on Jason’s too.
Tim: The Flash! If Dinah is the cool aunt, Barry is the cool uncle. Guy that shows up at the function with all the best snacks. He might eat half of them himself but damn if he didn’t bring them. In all seriousness, Tim saw pretty great merit in knowing a forensics guy that he can basically talk to anytime he’s stumped with a case without having to go through the “sorry to wake you” song and dance. Barry occasionally gets unhinged texts that are in the vein of “hey can you go about ten minutes back in time and tell past me about _____”. They’re usually pretty low stakes but sometimes there’s just a “got stabbed, do-over?” jumpscare sprinkled in. Bruce will never ever get shit from Barry about kid troubles. That man is a saint in Flash’s eyes.
Cass: Captain Marvel. She didn’t like him at all during their first meeting. For a person that’s good at reading body language, I imagine that seeing genuinely childish behavior on a grown man would be giving some crazy mixed signals. Once she learns that his powers are magic in origin rather than being alien or meta, her mind opens up a little more to the possibility that his exterior appearance might not be indicative of his actual identity. Cass guesses his age by their next proper meeting and makes it her business to keep an eye on him, always asking Bruce about him after he returns from League missions. Your honor, that 7’5” brick wall Champion of Magic is actually just Cass’ little buddy. She’s gonna get him some ice cream or something.
Steph: Green Lantern. Hal and Barry are like uncles, except if Barry is the cool one, Hal is the cringe one. Lucky for Hal, being a boyfailure is a good way to amuse Steph. Those two are gonna spend hours arguing with Bruce just for the hell of it, backing each other up on completely incorrect claims (Steph does it because it’s funny, Hal does it because he believes her). He does get bonus points for bringing her cool space snacks whenever he comes back from trips off-world. One of her favorite foods is a sort of hi-chew/gum thing from some other planet in Sector 2418 that doesn’t dissolve or lose its flavor, even after chewing it for days on end.
Damian: Aquaman. He’s a king. Like, an actual king. And he can communicate with fish. Arthur heard about Damian’s temper from the rest of the Leaguers and straight up does not believe it because every time he’s spoken to Damian, it’s been “hello your majesty can you introduce me to an octopus I have a few questions for it”. This one’s short. But I feel it speaks for itself.
Duke: Superman. Clark was NOT told about Signal taking up the day shift in Gotham until he was flying in to compare notes (read: flirt), with Bruce and met Duke when they both went to intercept a carjacking. Clark tries to be responsible like “I feel obligated to let you know that Batman doesn’t take kindly to metas in his city”, only for Duke to point at the big ol bat on his chest. After that, Duke usually intercepts Big Blue’s flight path anytime he comes into Gotham and the two just kind of hang out and shoot the shit while he does his patrol. Duke is also a little bit stoked to be regularly hanging out with The Superman, but even after the awe wears off, he can’t help but still think of Clark as just a cool, friendly guy. He gets someone to share the airspace with, Clark gets a bat he can stay in the sun with, it’s a win/win all around. Congrats Clark, you got one.
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koolades-world · 30 days
Note
Hi :) is hug deprived anon no longer anon, back with another request (if you want to write it obv! No pressure, as always!)
So, this MC is pretty strong as humans go. A bit above average in height, isn’t chiseled and buff like Beel but does have a lot of functional muscle strength. The sort of person who was always the one people back in the human world would call on to lift heavy things, move furniture, carry boxes, etc.
Likewise, their personality is kinda like Beel’s—in that they’re generally helpful and protective, mild mannered, about as talkative as he is. MC grew up a bit too fast though. They were too helpful, given responsibilities before they were ready, put in charge of others because they’re reliable. Their peers and adults alike would confide in them about their issues when they were still too young to handle them well, which they took with the same gentle, old-soul competence that makes it easy for people to rely on them as always.
They’re used to carrying heavy things (including people) both physically and emotionally. Good at it, too.
But then, they arrive in the Devildom and make friends with the bros, helping them like in canon as this MC would instinctively do, but also… these demons are bigger and stronger than them. As much as MC still falls into the babysitter/therapist role emotionally for them, the demons protect MC physically.
This is a huge, life affirming relief to MC! It’s so nice to have other people to take over being the protective strong one for once! It’s so nice to have help! It’s nice to feel cared for.
So, how do you think the bros would react to this MC leaning into their demons babying them? Maybe eventually getting a bit clingy with them? Mc being like, oh, you want to help me? You’re protecting me, you’re carrying stuff for me, you’re genuinely asking how I’m feeling?? Thank fuck! Yes, I am babie, pls carry me
If all the bros are too much/impractical for this one, it’s also totally good if you’d rather write this with just Beel and/or Mammon. Lucifer could work well for this too, now that I think of him. Do whatever you like! Have fun! :)
hi!! great to hear from you :) thanks for always being sweet, it always makes my day to see you <3
decided to do beel, mammon, and asmo because I figured he could be fun to write and felt like he's almost an unlikely pick
enjoy <3
Strong Mc who enjoys being babied
Mammon
when he's around, which is basically all the time since you're attached at the hip, he doesn't want you to lift a finger
he's absolutely determined to make you feel special and treat you like gold
would give you the world if you stared at it for even a second too long
he doesn't care that you're taller or more buff than him, you're baby
you work so hard and he wants you to know that
please he'd stop a moving car or an angry satan if you asked
while he knows he's not helpful academically, he is willing to help you in any other way possible
you want to go shopping? take goldie from him you can carry her
you need someone to carry the bags? that's what he's here for
you need someone to tell you how your outfits are? he's got you
he's so whipped
Asmo
this seems unlikely but i think people tend to forget that he's pretty strong too
he's more powerful than beel and it's so funny to me to think that the little twink is more powerful than the body builder work out brother
he would take full advantage of this to catch you by surprise with hugs from behind that lift you off the ground
is overjoyed when you say you love them and that he can hug you whenever he wants
expect lots of surprise hugs
when the two of you are out in public, and someone is trying to both you for whatever reason, he won't hesitate to sock them in the face
while he hates to talk about his own feelings because of the implications that holds for him, he's very emotionally available for you
he will be your ultimate hype man
if you want, he will literally just carry you around while you nap, mindlessly scroll, or do whatever
he will continue on with his day as normal as if he isn't carrying you around like a baby
he's just underrated in general
Beel
to be honest, this is new for him too
it's rare for him to meet someone cut from the same cloth as him but he doesn't mind, and actually likes it
because of this, he knows exactly what he can do to help you, or ease your burdens
he knows how tough it can be to carry around something emotionally
always there to talk things out with you
or, he can be your shoulder to lean on
honestly whatever you need him to be, he can be
he's always willing to help and lets you know that
will give the best piggyback ride you've ever had, and will give them whenever
he understands how you feel and is glad he's able to give you the solace you deserve <3
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imperiuswrecked · 5 months
Note
pssst can i please ask you to spoiler the raven baby reveal to me...?
So the summary of X-Men Blue: Origins (2023) Mystique is wandering around New York acting crazy and mumbling about her lost baby, Kurt catches up with her and tries to talk her into calming down.
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Kurt gives Raven his sword which breaks the mental barriers and it's revealed that while Raven was married to Baron Wagner, she and Irene were an on again, off again, couple who would hook up with other people whenever it helped their goals.
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Raven had hired Irene to be the housemaid so she could stay close while Raven was married to Wagner, using his money/influence as they wanted and having a torrid love affair with Irene in private. Azazel shows up and Irene encouraged Raven to have an affair with him as well, because she had visions of the future.
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Basically Irene wanted a love child with Raven, but needed Azazel to believe he was the father because she knew that unless Kurt was set on a path to be his constant foe/destroyer of his plans then Azazel would rise to power.
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Irene's visions aren't something she can stop and she lives her life according to how to bring about her visions but she doesn't tell Raven any of this until 5 years after Kurt's birth. So she and Raven have a child, Kurt, and from my understanding of the reading, Mystique can copy the genes down to a molecular level and took the gene patterns from Azazel and Baron Wagner and impregnated Irene. So Kurt doesn't have 2 parents, he has 4, well 5 including Margali Szardos who was his adopted mom. Kurt is now battling for the #1 spot for "most parents and most confusing parental origin in comics" and he's up against the Maximoff twins who have gone through 3 sets of parents.
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Back to the story, Raven dumps Azazel who is such a pathetic loser, I love that lol. Raven fakes being pregnant by shapeshifting to look like she is pregnant as the months go by. Baron Wagner discovers his wife's affairs, and being the homophobe he is, is stabbed by Raven who then spends the next few months switching between forms to make people believe that the Baron and his wife are both still around, waiting until Irene gives birth. I'm guessing because Raven intended to use the Baron's money/pretending to be him so she and Irene could live in comfort or until they wanted to move on.
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Irene is the one who gives birth to Kurt, and Raven overcome with joy/love for Kurt doesn't want his first sight of her to be human so she reveals herself.
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The townspeople are of course in an uproar, want to kill the demon woman and her demon child, Irene tells Raven to get to safety and that she would be ok, but Raven fears for Irene so she leaves Kurt under a tree and rushes back to kill the people who would hurt her wife and discovers Irene is missing, she runs back to find Kurt and he's gone too.
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Five years pass and she finds Irene again, this time watching a young Rogue, Irene reveals everything to Raven, the Azazel vision, Irene needed Kurt to be raised as an outcast etc. Raven and Irene both know they are in a toxic relationship, but they love each other too much so they went to the one man who can make everything worse, Charles Xavier. Of course Xavier does what he does best, erases people's memories and implants new ones.
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So now Kurt has 2 deadbeat mutant moms, 1 deadbeat demonic mutant father, 1 dead human father, and 1 adopted mother and they all give him the most drama & trauma that you will ever see in comics! Love wins (?)
I am currently taking donations to hire Kurt a therapist (who isn't Professor X), save an elf's sanity and donate /jk
I will say that this origin, though very messy, does at least confirm that Irene is just as messy/toxic as Raven, so I hope they continue to be totally bad for each other and 100% in love, which is very refreshing to see in wlw couples and I really hope they do not try to soften their edges, especially Raven's, I do not want a "good mother Raven", but time will tell. Also finally Kurt is Baron Wagner's son technically due to partially copied genetics so it finally makes sense for why Kurt has the Wagner last name, which is something that always bugged me, because imo if he had zero connection to the Baron then he wouldn't have the Wagner last name. Also this doesn't invalidate the Azazel retcon from before because again technically Azazel believes Kurt is his son, and Kurt does have partially copied genetics from Azazel.
I think it was a really tough balancing act to have to write, I wish it could have been written a bit better or the thoughts of Rogue actually being Irene/Raven's daughter would have worked better. Like imagine if Raven and Irene were both pregnant, Irene had Rogue and Raven had Nightcrawler or Irene had them both as twins, then they wouldn't just be foster/adopted siblings but also bio siblings, and it could have opened up the door for more stories involving them as brother and sister trying to deal with their mothers. Marvel constantly ignores the potential for Rogue and Kurt's sibling dynamic and I wish we got more of it in the comics. I get that the writer was trying to keep to the old canon while creating the new canon and using the original plan for Kurt's parentage, so while I feel it's way too complicated this is also comics where complicated plots and retcons have been a long standing tradition meant to torment us readers.
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cxsmicbaby · 10 months
Text
something nice - 1
CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES 
pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader
word count: 4.1k
warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)
you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you. 
                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪
“And then... my uncle died.” 
“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer. 
“And I realized. I’m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”
“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears. 
Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy. 
Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow. 
“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily. 
I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure. 
“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel. 
“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it. 
“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely. 
“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”
“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?” 
Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me. 
I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”
“Like?” Here we go. 
“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school. 
“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me. 
We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place. 
Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”
I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.” 
Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform. 
“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.” 
That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them. 
“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.” 
I smile. “You know I am.” 
Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks. 
The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules. 
Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it. 
I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically. 
“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person. 
“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.” 
I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!” 
“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?” 
The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason. 
I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it. 
The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck. 
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.” 
That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby. 
Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing. 
But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else. 
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same. 
The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me. 
“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now. 
So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me. 
“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”
Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.” 
That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall. 
“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing. 
Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head. 
“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.” 
I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real. 
“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”
Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.” 
I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!” 
I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head. 
“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.” 
                                                       𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪
“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?” 
Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you. 
“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does. 
He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it. 
You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away. 
“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.” 
You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown. 
“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.
“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never. 
He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling. 
“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it. 
You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.” 
Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave. 
You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds. 
“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.
“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave. 
Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself. 
It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed. 
Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.  
You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time. 
“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for. 
Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. 
“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected. 
And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. 
The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.  
“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him. 
“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it. 
“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.” 
And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be. 
But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy. 
Like most things, that also made Miguel angry. 
You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place. 
If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.
Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you. 
And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him. 
How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him. 
Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice. 
The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing. 
Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you. 
When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away. 
“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough. 
Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack. 
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him. 
He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan. 
When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself. 
He washes himself off and gets out of the shower. 
When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are. 
He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still. 
                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪
CHAPTER TWO
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harunayuuka2060 · 1 year
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Crowley: Now for today's housewarden meeting.
Crowley: This will be about Mr. Rosehearts' recent overblot situation.
Kalim: Excuse me, headmage. But is it fine for us to talk about this?
Riddle: Do not worry. I have given him my permission as it is extremely important.
Idia: Did you consider asking me before agreeing to this?
Riddle: You wouldn't allow me to enter your room!
Idia: *sigh*
Vil: I've heard MC helped you and defeated the phantom themselves. *confused frown* How is that possible?
Leona: Vil Schoenheit has a point. I never knew phantoms can be fought physically.
Azul: Or that it could be extracted from the one who overblotted.
Crowley: Mr. Shroud, I believe I'm allowed to give the details?
Idia: Sure. You have my father's approval.
Crowley: *clears throat* I believe MC's ability to separate phantoms from the magician's body is due to the fact that they're a child of hell.
Riddle: Child of...
Leona: ...Hell?
Idia: This should've been a confidential information. But my father and I didn't expect that someone in this school would overblot.
Idia: Anyway, that's that.
Vil: Are you not going to elaborate?
Idia: No. But if you're worried if they would overblot someday or would hurt you like a demon, hm. Yeah, it depends. So far, MC has only hurt phantoms. Heheh.
Kalim: Oh, wow! Sounds like they're a guardian or something!
Idia: Yes. But that doesn't mean you're free to overblot whenever you want just because they can beat your phantoms for you. Like yeah, no. Learn to go to a therapist.
Riddle: One question, Idia-senpai.
Riddle: Have you ever overblotted?
Idia: Let's see... When I was a kid, yeah. Mine was like a way smaller they just shoved it into the crate.
The housewardens: ...
Leona: Hey, radish sprout. If they're a protector, then why were they heavily-chained when they first entered NRC?
Idia: That's... That's soooooo confidential that if I tell you, I'll be forced to delete your memories.
Leona: *frowns* What?
Crowley: Well, that's all for this housewarden meeting. If you have any questions, just save them for now and we'll discuss them next time.
Vil: That gentle giant is a hell child?
Riddle: I know. It's hard to imagine it.
Kalim: But if we're going to think about it, don't they fit the description?
Vil, Riddle, and Kalim: *has recalled what they looked like on their first day*
Vil: Now that you've mentioned it, yes.
Kalim: *laughs* Even so, I'm glad they're someone that can be trusted in times of danger!
Ortho: How did the meeting go?
Idia: Nothing noteworthy. Just slightly shocked that MC is a hell child.
Ortho: But Idia, that information hasn't confirmed yet. That's merely a nickname given by the ancestors of Shroud family.
Idia: Hell is still hell. Anyway, what is MC doing right now?
Ortho: They've discovered a new plant called bonsai.
Idia: Ah.
Ace: Bwahahahah! No! You can't name it "Riddle"!
Ace: Do you want him to go off with your head?
Deuce: I honestly think Housewarden Rosehearts would mind.
MC: *grunts*
Ace: Fine, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you.
Ace: By the way, MC? I've heard from Trey-senpai that a third-year senpai from Diasomnia was looking for you.
MC: *tilts their head*
Ace: What was his name again? Ah! Lilia Vanrouge!
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no-m4gic · 1 year
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Hi! I'm the anom who asked for the autistic reader and I loved your writing! So may I request the same THH characters but with a reader who's try to be the sunshine in their lives (example: help Chihiro to be himself), but is secretly depressed and hide It from them cause reader doesn't want to seem fragile?
Sorry If Is complex XD thx!
i have limited free time so i know im probably never gonna complete (another) request(s) today. also i discovered i have no idea how to write for hifumi and yasuhiro, so i'm gonna blacklist them and replace them with mukuro. felt like this request seemed like a good prompt for nagito and also i feel like i could replace ishimaru's one with komaeda's as an apology.
sorry if you wanted the girls too, i'll get on them as soon as i finish my work- i didn't have enough time to write for them. i'll write for ishimaru, too. sorry for missing a lot of characters!
p.s thanks guys for your support !! i appreciate it sm <33
that's a long title 😨
the tags are such a PAIN
~ mod sitaya
THH CHARACTERS W/ AN S/O WHO IS THEIR SUNSHINE BUT IS SECRETLY DEPRESSED
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BYAKUYA TOGAMI
"damnit s/o, why didn't you tell me earlier? you know i wouldn't judge you."
money = happiness to him, so he wouldn't fully understand your pain. he'll still support you though, if you need anything he'll send one of his workers to get it for you.
i mean if you were gone, yeah, he'd definitely be upset, so whenever he couldn't understand, he'll just imagine how he'll be like if you died or something.
he'll hire a personal therapist for you, unless you want him to be your therapist... which trust me, he is not good at.
bro can't even comfort anyone without making them cry more.
since he can't comfort someone psychologically, he'll comfort them physically, though he'll only show displays of affection at home or when you guys are alone, n e v e r in public.
honestly at this point, he won't give a shit if you stain his rich people clothes with your tears, he can buy the same new clothes again.
he's not that desperate, but can you imagine byakuya singing his s/o a lullaby?
not really, but he'll tuck you into bed himself personally if you fall asleep while sobbing your eyes out.
if you don't, he'll ask if you wanna fly out of japan for awhile, on his rich people private jet.
it's the least he could do to repay you for helping him during his dark times.
MAKOTO NAEGI
"s/o. how could you hide this from me? did you think i was going to criticize you...?"
he wouldn't ask the million questions running through his head first, he'd hold you first.
you come before anything.
he'll hold you for as long as you'd like, letting you cry in his shoulder while he rubs your back and pats your head.
since you helped him show the others he isn't an 'omega male' and also chased everyone who bullied him away, he'll return the favor.
he'll tell the teacher that you weren't feeling well and needed some time to rest in your room.
also he'll bring you your homework so you don't have to get it yourself and do tons of paperwork at once after coming back.
you don't need a therapist, you have naegi tell them as your therapist.
he'll listen to you go on for the entire day, and if you need to break down, you can jump into his arms and break down, using his shirt as a handkerchief.
MONDO OOWADA
"damnit... who did this s/o?!"
honestly he might just break down too.
but then he'll tell himself he's gotta be a man, with balls in front of his s/o.
he'll put his coat around you and hug you, telling you that it's alright and you can let everything out.
you can take that in any way.
he feels really guilty whenever he has to leave you for training or a competition.
but he'll always come back with a gift and your favorite takeout.
if you ever wanna cuddle, go find him. he'll be more than happy to have a reason to hold you.
daily compliments whenever you two meet up.
CHIHIRO FUJISAKI
"s/o, it's okay. you're not hopeless, you're filled with hope, you still have so much more potential,"
he'll offer to accompany you to do some activities to keep your mind distracted and also to cheer you up.
something maybe like styling your hair and making it look ridiculous by putting tons of bright, glittery accessories on your hair.
he'd ask if sharing his own insecurities would help, maybe just so you know he has other countless insecurities than just him fearing showing the others he's a guy.
if making your hair look worse than junko's didn't cheer you up, chihiro would make up some stupid games like hop like a bunny into mondo's room or sing one of sayaka's songs outside makoto's room while he's showering.
speaking of sayaka's songs, he'll blast all her upbeat pop songs in the room and you two can dance your heart out.
LEON KUWATA
"i figured. now come here i'm gonna cuddle your sadness away!"
leon would definitely try to remain positive
the only good side would be that he could skip his daily weekday baseball training, since y'know he likes hates baseball.
but no, really, he'd have NO idea on how to comfort someone properly.
he'd ask what he could do to make you feel better.
as well as bring you out to get ice cream.
while you guys are out you may or may not encounter celestia's cat wandering around aimlessly... and bring it back to leon's room.
obviously you guys return her, maybe style her a little, watch leon get scratched by her and so on.
overall at least you recovered quickly and now everyone can see you smile again <3
BONUS ;; NAGITO KOMAEDA
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NAGITO KOMAEDA
"oh s/o. you didn't have to hide it from me, hopeless trash like me don't have the right to judge hopeful people like you,"
well now it was his turn to have his clothes stained with tears.
countless outfits of yours have been stained with his tears, because whenever you'd return late (which was always) he'd think you left him or something, and the closest thing he has to you are your clothes.
he's clingy.
and he'll become clingier.
everywhere you go he'll follow you like a lost puppy.
lost puppy literally. he won't just follow you, he'll beg for your attention.
anyway... back to you, once you even mention you were upset he'd pull you into a tight hug.
imagine how long that tight hug would be with depressed.
verrrrrry verrry long.
he'd wish he didn't have to let go of you.
and he wouldn't. you'd have to literally wait for him to fall asleep just to work your way out his arms.
he'll shower you in compliments and bless you with encouragements.
if you wanted he could ask gundham for a cat or dog or something, or he'd blackmail gundham just to "borrow" the four dark devas of destruction for like 10 minutes before giving them back even though nagito would lie and say they'd forever be gone.
you want, he buy. literally, you just have to say "i want this" and you'll have it.
no more despair only hope.
IM SORRY ITS MISSING SO MANY CHARACTERS ANON 😭
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l0ves1ckf0ol · 1 year
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ISSUES. . . . xavier thorpe x gn!reader
"after that night he knew it was you all along."
genre: hurt/comfort
part 1
tags: @gutterrataesthetic
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semestral break begins, students went home. well, most of them. you however decided to stay behind, after all the events that happened with wednesday you didn't want to go home to your family annoying you with questions about her. it's also because if you go home you would see xavier more since your father was close friends with mr. thorpe it wouldn't help you because your cause was to ignore him to get rid of the feelings that you felt for him. yes, he's a nice guy, and yes he probably is worth the wait- you just didn't want any distractions, or so you would call him.
you couldn't shake the memory of the night where you visited xavier in prison. you were sure you were going insane, but after that meeting you pretty much avoided xavier.
truth be told, he really is a good guy. you just worry for him because wednesday treats him like shit and he still seems to chase her around. you also thought of his trust issues towards bianca, he definitely did not have a great childhood. you didn't want to do something wrong and he'd go along with it, you were scared of hurting him unintentionally.
but thus, the universe ignored your prayers and there he was, sitting at one of the picnic tables at the quad, waiting out the laze of the semestral break.
it was nighttime thankfully, more places to hide within the shadows, though you could move and travel in shadows, your figure ought to be seen, kind of like how peter pan has his own shadow.
you weren't so lucky that evening.
xavier lowers his sketchbook to his lap and stared at the cobbled wall that you were hiding in, the warm candlelight illuminating your shadow. you held your breath, did he see you? "y/n?"
you cursed mentally and walked out the walls, as if it was a portal.
"didn't know you stayed behind for sembreak." you muttered, approaching him. you couldn't walk away now. do you even want to?
xavier closed his sketchbook and placed it on the table along with his pencil. "my dad's busy anyways." he sighs, sadly. you almost felt bad. "well you know, i'm supposed to be going home now, they gave me an earful earlier this afternoon rambling on and on about addams and how she must be making her parents proud and bla bla bla" you told him with a laugh, he chuckled.
he kept giving you this look, as if he was waiting for something- expecting from the lazy poltergeist.
"i haven't been talking to you lately after you got bailed out. you okay?" xavier scoffed, "don't give me that. you were the one ignoring me, why should you ask." he muttered bitterly. you sighed through your nose, "because i'm your friend, thorpe. believe it or not." you told him stiffly, crossing your arms. xavier stood up, towering over you.
"you're one to talk about being friends, you just pop up in my life when i'm in doubt, whenever i'm feeling low. you're like my personal therapist." he told you and you chuckled sarcastically, "oh i'm sorry, for trying to cheer you up. should i stop? i gladly will." you slightly raise your voice and he notices this, he has never heard you yell before. "it doesn't feel like we're even friends anymore, y/n." he clarifies. you stare at him, raising a brow.
"we used to meet up at the art studio, copy off of each other's homework, literally skipping class together- you never talk to me anymore. it's like i don't exist unless you feel the need to comfort me, i'm not a child." xavier argues, you wanted to shove him and run away right now but you had to face him somehow. you swallowed harshly, trying to restrain yourself from saying something stupid, but you did.
"you're one to talk about my own flaws when you can't even see what's happening right in front of you." you shot back, breathing heavily, you felt provoked by him. xavier's face scrunched up in confusion, "what do you mean??" he demands.
"hello! i get that you're head over heels for wednesday, and by seeing how she treats you? you can't even fucking see that, xavier." you told him, practically yelling at him now. he was stunned, he always saw you- carefree, wild spirited and funny. now you were an angry grenade about to go off. "your daddy issues are fucking showing xavier. i just want you to feel i'll be right here whenever a certain someome treats you wrong. because frankly, for some reason i can't get enough of you." you went off, stammering between your words as you're not used to arguing someone so tall and intimidating. xavier scoffed, picking up his materials and walked away.
you scowled, in disbelief "you're seriously walking away?" you tested him, he didn't turn around, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, a feeling you loathed. "i don't even know why i like you!" you yell after him and ran straight to the shadows.
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did he hear that right? xavier stopped in his tracks, looking behind him. you were gone. he didn't know why you said that, he didn't want to like wednesday, after that night- he knew it was you all along. you were there whenever wednesday wasn't, you were there when bianca couldn't make it. it was all you. he needed to find you. more or less in your dorm, that'd be creepy he thinks. whatever you said was the truth, he had issues. you were there to stick around and see how that unfold. you don't like racing, you didn't like pursuit, which is why xavier begins to theorize that you don't want to be some sort of an option to him. you just wanted to be there for him.
he didn't want to be a creep really, so he sat outside your door, sketching away into the night, hoping to catch you, sooner or later fell asleep.
you open the door, you couldn't sleep and figured might as well go do something. then you saw him. layed down on the floor, using his sketchbook as a pillow and his pencil right beside him. he looked ridiculous you could've laughed. he looked so at peace, lately its always been a sour face or a forced smile, now he's slightly drooling but at peace.
you knelt by him and traced your index finger on his nose, his cheekbones, his jaw, hearing him breathe gently caused you to feel more regret.
"y/n?" he slowly opens his eyes to see you, blinking twice to process what you were doing as you pulled back your hand so quickly. "you have a dorm, idiot. good night." you mumbled towards him, making him pout as you felt an arm reach out to you and a hand grasping yours, not letting you go. not this time.
"'m sorry." he hums softly, getting up as he's yet again tugging your sweater sleeve like a little boy, inviting you to sit next to him. so you did, he was only looking at you now, a look with dreadful longing. "i've loved you since forever. did you know that?" he told you, his words slurring due to being a little bit tired than usual. "i mean i did like bianca, but at first it was just for you to stop avoiding me." he huffs out, childishly frustrated, leaning his head against your shoulder. "don't talk about wednesday anymore, she was just another lookalike. you both dress the same, you used to braid my hair when we were kids- she reminded me of you." xavier whispers to your ear. "admit it, you were pretty dang attracted to wednesday too." you chuckled, thinking the same.
"i had a feeling you liked me back, i just thought you didn't want to be friends with me anymore." xavier muttered, you hum in thought. "hey please. talk to me, don't leave me hanging..." he huffs.
"prove it, that you like me." you told him, xavier gave you his sketchbook. "here."
you flutter through the pages, it was either you or your shadows, a drawing caught your eye though. it was when you were coming out of a wall, at the rave'n dance, wearing a flawless white suit, your hair styled in a different way. "want more proof?"
you looked at him as he was 3 inches closer to your face. "sure." xavier held your cheek and caressed it with his thumb, pressing your lips against his. finally, a moment you waited and loathed for.
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plum-pitt · 2 months
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Holy shit. I just realized i’ve never even yapped about my headcanons for the rise guys. This is a criminal offense on my part! Must be rectified immediately!!
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Disclaimer: Don’t think there’s a lot of hot takes here, but feel free to disagree and talk about your own interpretations if you’d like!! Headcanon is fun and i love discussing it. it’s all fictional and since the text doesn’t give us much concrete shit on these topics we’re all free to make our own, equally valid readings of it. :3
Leo- Transmasc He/Him, gay as fuck who here could’ve guessed, ADHD haver, definitely smokes weed. Fluent in spanish from watching telenovellas as a child. Wants to be a flirty whore/aff so fucking bad but whenever he sees someone he’s legitimately attracted to any charisma he might’ve had gets thrown out the window and into a woodchipper in favor of helpless stuttering. His portalling mishaps early in the series have led him to silly sidequests all over the world that he just,,,, doesn’t really talk about. This won’t come up until they’ll end up in some random ass place and find out just how well travelled and connected he actually is. He’s also got a job at Hueso’s for fun and extra cash to fund his addiction to pot and ordering stupid shit he doesn’t need online. He’s a server, wears rollerskates to “move faster” on the job, just ends up running into shit more often than not. Great with the kids tho, performs little sleight of hand magic tricks and tells jokes to make them happy, never had a fussy kid he couldn’t calm down in a snap. Calls himself Hueso’s nephew and nepotism hire, ignoring the fact that he’s actually a decently competent and well liked employee outside of the several skating related accidents. Shell was cracked badly in the invasion, when they sealed it up, he asked Mikey to paint the healed cracks gold, mimicking the japanese practice of Kintsugi.
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Mikey- Definitely queer but not into labels ;3 He/Him is what he defaults to, but any pronouns work for them. Semi fluent in italian, don’t ask me why, just feels right, let chef boy speak italian dammit. One of those mfs on instagram who insists on posting pictures of the food he makes, except his actually looks good and not painfully mediocre so they get a pass. Has been tagging walls in hard to reach spots all over the city for years at this point, after Raph confronted her abt it, fearing that he’d get caught someday, he told him that he’d stop. Yeah, that was a lie he kept doing it, just sneakier now. Makes money off of art commissions, still broke as hell tho cuz he spends it all on bougie ass ingredients and art supplies. Post canon definitely delved more into mystics and spirituality, trains with draxum but also took up meditation in his free time. Fucks with weed and the occasional psychedelic when working on art, says it helps get the creative juices flowing. Considering asking donnie to forge some documents for him so he can attend college online and earn a psych degree. His speech patterns flip on a dime between vague, wise fortune cookie therapist man and typical gen-z slang so abruptly it gives anyone not already familiar with him total whiplash.
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Donnie- NonBinary They/He Bisexual but i can’t decide if they’re the kind that can’t stop pulling or can’t pull to save his life. Fluent in several languages, ASL, French, Russian, Japanese. Actually one of their few acedemic endeavors that he doesn’t typically show off and gloat about, makes it all the scarier when his siblings hear him muttering vaguely threatening sounding shit in russian when shit doesn’t go their way. Has tried most substances for “research purposes”, ultimately decided he doesn’t like the feeling of their big ol brain being hindered under the influence, this has a few exceptions tho, mainly when it’s with Leo. Has John Bishops IP address and threatens to drop it on 4chan to “see what happens” every time he tries messing with their family or stopping him from “borrowing” material resources from the US government. Almost considered bs-ing his way into college before they used a cloaking broach to shadow april at school for like 2 days. It was there they learned that the education system fucking sucks and he probably knows more than most professors about his topics of interest anyway. Does freelance work for cash, as far as their brothers know they’re not building and selling anything dangerous (which is code for probably arming both sides in a far away military conflict with deathrays). Spends his free time cyber bullying children on roblox and twitter, and caring for their greenhouse of plants that all have names. (yes he grows weed. his GeniusGrown™️ zaza is known far and wide for its consistently excellent quality. and no, Leo does not get a family discount. Mikey does tho.)
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Raph- Someone please send the big man some help😭 he/him(?) Definitely queer in some way shape or form but refuses to confront any identity crisis because he’s just so busy keeping his dumb ass siblings outta shit. Tried weed once and will never touch a substance again, makes his anxiety spike real bad when he doesn’t feel in full control of himself. Runs around with Cassandra and sometimes Jr to do vigilante justice on the side of he and his siblings’ usual patrols. Living garbage disposal and i mean that quite literally. He has and will eat anything, rocks, toys, silverware, sometimes on accident, sometimes on a dare, and sometimes just because he wants to. He grew up gnawing on the legs of furniture, rusty sewer pipes, really any nonliving thing that he could fit his choppers around (unlike donnie who just bit any living creature within a 5 mile radius of his location). Since the invasion made Leo step up as leader Raph has been able to step back a little bit and not have everything in a chokehold, he has a mini crisis about his place in the family and his sense of identity without being a leader. Tries to hide how much it’s affecting him but ofc, living with mikey, this does not last and his ass FINALLY gets chucked (very lovingly) into therapy. Loves to knit, definitely in some kind of old lady facebook group centered around it (he has so much nursing home gossip floating around in his brain hehe)
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Alright that’s all for the teetlez. lmk if yall wanna hear about my thoughts on the rest of the main cast, or some of the side cast! Can’t promise i’ll have this much to say on all of em but i’ve definitely got thoughts lol. I might even make a post diving into different character dynamics. idk tho, my fingies are tired typing all that shit😭
Anyway i hope u enjoyed my ramblings, have a lovely day :3
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