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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 1 day

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Doubt

Title: Doubt

Pairing: Alastor x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Word Count: ~2,881

In which the reader inadvertently lets her feelings slip, and she finds out what she really means to Alastor.

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, A cuss word in there somewhere, ooc Alastor maybe

When the Radio Demon himself had asked you out to dance, how could you possibly have said no? After all, he wasn’t just the Radio Demon to you, he was Alastor - the man who had saved you from a life of imprisonment after you had naively sold your soul to the Vees, who had brought you back to Charlie’s Hotel, and who had since become one of the most trusted people in your life.

Even now, you weren’t exactly sure what had drawn Alastor to you all those years ago. Whenever you asked, he was quick to change the subject or deflect.

Not that you would ever complain, of course. Alastor had saved your life and demanded nothing in return, save for you staying away from the Vees’s territory, which you were only so happy to do.

Once you had settled into the hotel, you had found yourself a real family. One who watched your back and hugged you when things got hard. One who loved you despite your past and your flaws. One who didn’t abandon or use you.

All in all, your life here was better than your life when you were alive. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Now, as you rifled frantically through your closet, you couldn’t help but wish that Alastor had given you a bit more warning before your outing.

He had approached you only half an hour prior, materializing in your room and grabbing your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before straightening and asking if you would do him the honor of accompanying him to his old friend Mimzy’s club tonight.

You’d said yes, of course. Who would ever deny a night out? And how hard could it be to get ready in only an hour?

Exceedingly difficult, as it turned out.

Your rummaging became increasingly desperate as you searched your closet in vain, throwing dresses, shirts, blouses, and everything else that you owned on the floor as you discarded them. You were going out with Alastor, after all. You had to make a good impression.

You were stopped by a sudden knock at the door.

“Come in,” you called over your shoulder.

You listened as someone’s light footsteps entered your room. “Geez, dollface, was there a break-in or something?” The voice’s tone changed from confusion to amusement. “Or are ya finally burning all of your clothes so I can take you shopping?”

You huffed in indignation and spun to face Angel Dust, hands on your hips. “My closet is fine, thank you. I’m just-” you looked back at your empty closet and sighed, dropping your hands to your sides. There was no way you would be ready in the next half an hour without some help.

You turned back to face Angel, a sheepish grin on your face. “I don’t have time to go shopping, but I’ll let you give me a full makeover tomorrow if you help me get ready to go dancing at Mimzy’s club tonight.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back against your doorframe. “A full makeover? You going on a date or something?”

“I’m going out with Alastor.”

His smile only grew in size. “Going out with Smiles tonight, huh?” He glanced down at your discarded pile. “I guess I can put something together. How much time do I have to work my magic? A few hours?”

You flushed, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Can you make me presentable in the next thirty minutes?”

Angel waved his hand dismissively before grabbing your hand and leading you straight out of your room and across the hall to his own bedroom. “Of course I can, sweetcheeks, that’s nothing. I’ll have you ready in a jiff.”

You smiled appreciatively as Angel led you swiftly to his vanity and sat you in his chair. “I owe you one,” you promised.

He gave you a wink. “You don’t owe me nothing, sweetheart. Just sit back and let me work.”

~~~

True to his word, Angel managed to have you brushed up and looking like a princess in less than half an hour. To be honest, you were pleasantly surprised when you saw the finished look.

Not that you ever doubted Angel’s skills, of course, but where you had expected a bold face of makeup and a showy dress that followed today’s trends, he had gone in a vastly different direction.

Your makeup looked much more natural than you thought Angel was capable of. Your eyeshadow was dark, but subtle. Your eyeliner was winged, of course, and he had painted your lips a dark shade of red. The best part of the ensemble, though, was that he had dressed you in a surprisingly 50s looking modest black dress that he had had in his closet ‘just in case’. All in all, you had to admit that it was better than anything you could have ever put together.

You spun in front of his full length mirror. “I love it,” you said quietly, unable to stop the grin that spread across your features.

“Of course ya do,” Angel replied from his place on the edge of his bed. Fat Nuggets had taken up residency in his owner’s lap, and both of them were watching you with smug glee.

Well, as smug as a pig could get, anyway.

“And if I ain’t mistaken,” Angel continued, “Your date started five minutes ago. You should probably stop spinning and start walking.”

You stopped admiring your reflection and flushed. “I’m that late?” You walked backwards towards the bedroom door. “Thank you Angel, I owe you, really. See you later!”

The sound of Angel Dust chuckling kindly followed you across the hall as you quickly closed the door to your own room behind you.

A voice sounded out of the darkness. “Ready now, are we?”

You jumped at the sound and whirled around, flicking your lights on and staring in surprise when you saw Alastor perched on the edge of your bed.

“You know, my dear, it really is bad manners to…”

The demon trailed off when he finally caught sight of you.

You suddenly felt exceedingly self conscious as his eyes started to roam over your ensemble. It was 50s inspired, sure, but what if Alastor found it offensive? What if he thought it was laughable? What if he hated it? What if -

You stepped back as Alastor melted into the shadows and reappeared directly in front of you. His eyes studied your face almost curiously.

“Angel helped,” you piped nervously. “I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

“Nonsense,” Alastor replied as he raised a hand. He gently grasped your chin in his fingers and tilted your head from side to side. “The outfit you wore when I asked you to join me would have sufficed.”

You scoffed, pulling your chin back and looking down at the floor. “We’re going to Mimzy’s club, Al. I couldn’t have just shown up in a random shirt and pants.”

A clawed hand tilted your face back up to meet Alastor’s. You gasped in surprise when you saw that the two of you were practically nose to nose. “I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear,” Alastor said in a low voice.

“Never,” you breathed, not daring to blink.

If there was any one consistent presence in your life, it was Alastor. He had never steered you wrong, and the least you could do in return was trust his word.

The Radio Demon’s smile softened at your response. He released your chin and stepped back, looking you up and down one more time before turning away.

“I meant what I said, darling,” he drawled, the static in his voice ever present. “You would have been quite a gem even in your-” he rolled his eyes and waved his hand dramatically “-random shirt and pants.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from rising up to your cheeks. It was one thing for Angel to appraise his own work, but it was quite another for Alastor to agree with his assessment.

You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry I was late. Should we go? I know Mimzy doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

A lie. You’d never met Mimzy before in your life. But if you were going to try and stop your blushing cheeking from giving away just how much you appreciated his compliment, you had to distract yourself somehow.

Alastor looked down at his pocket watch and hummed. “I do suppose we should be on our way. She did request an audience, after all.”

You blinked. “An audience? I thought…”

The overlord looked back at you with a raised brow, looking more confused than anything. “You thought what, my dear?”

You felt your shoulders sag, though you internally chastised yourself for feeling at all disappointed. How could you have assumed that Alastor’s only goal today was to dance with you at a club? Of course he had another motive.

You forced a smile on your face. “Nothing. Sorry. We should go.”

You tried to brush your disappointment away. It didn’t matter why he had asked you. The fact that he had asked at all was plenty.

Except it isn’t, a little voice inside of you whispered. For years now, Alastor had been your protector, watching over you and ensuring your safety, even while helping Charlie to look after the hotel and feuding with Vox.

As time had slowly gone by, you had hoped that maybe you could help Alastor as much as he had helped you. He wouldn’t let you help at his radio station, and since the Radio Demon wasn’t exactly an emotional sharer, you had decided that the least you could do was be a constant, solid presence in his life.

You had even thought that you were making progress over the past few months, and your hopes had been solidified when he had asked you out to Mimzy’s club. After all, he would never have asked you if he didn’t see you as some sort of friend, right?

Now, though, you could see how foolish you had been. How could you have ever hoped to help Alastor in any way? He was a demon of solitude, and your wish to help him had made you blind to that.

You started towards your door, hoping to hide the embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

But before you could make it, a shadow appeared ahead of you, frowning down at you as it blocked the door.

You refused to look him in the eye. “We’ll be late, Al. We need to go.”

“It seems as though you aren’t quite ready, my dear.” The static of his voice grew closer as he spoke. You tensed up when you felt his faint breath on the back of your neck. “After all, you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

You finally turned to face him, hating the feelings flooding through your veins and the thoughts rushing through your head. How was Alastor ever meant to learn to lean on you if you couldn’t even hold yourself together? It was bad enough that you lacked his grace and poise, and now he would see what a truly pathetic and fucked up specimen he had saved all those years ago.

Alastor looked down at you, his expression ever passive, his smile ever present. But beneath the mask, his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were narrowed as he studied your face.

From behind you, his shadow placed two gentle hands on your shoulders, carefully holding you in place as if afraid that you would bolt.

You swallowed and forced your head up to meet the Overlord’s eyes, plastering a false smile on your face. “I’m ready.”

“You most certainly are not, my dear,” Alastor replied, the static in his voice fading to a soft buzz. He raised his hand silently and placed it on your cheek.

Instinctively, you tilted your head and allowed your cheek to be cradled gently by his clawed hands, closing your eyes as you savored the feeling. It was almost enough to make you forget what had upset you in the first place.

“Mon chere,” Alastor said, something resembling concern present in his voice. “What’s troubling you?”

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring into his. “I thought…” you began once again before pressing your lips together. It would do nobody any good if you confessed your thoughts out loud. You might even inadvertently push him away.

“Thought what?”

His eyes were searching yours for an answer you weren’t sure you were yet willing to give. His hand remained cradling your face, and his shadow behind you had yet to release you from its gentle touch.

You took a deep breath. Even if your true feelings did push him away, didn’t you at least owe it to him after all this time to be honest? Even if it was the last thing you were ever able to do for him.

You closed your eyes again. “I thought we were going to Mimzy’s to spend time together,” you admitted, hating the way your breath caught, hating the way your voice cracked, and hating the way your heart stopped. You pushed forward. “I didn’t realize you were going for business, I thought maybe you wanted to spend time together.”

A laugh bubbled its way through your lips. “It was silly of me to assume, though. I know you’re busy, I just thought maybe I was getting through to you. I thought you were starting to let your guard down around me, and that I could just be there for you.”

You stepped to the side, away from both Alastor and his shadow. “I thought we were becoming something like friends. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” You squeezed your eyes shut in desperation. “I know that I’m nothing more than a soul that you saved. I know that, I promise I do. And I won’t ever again mistake your actions for something that they’re not. So please don’t give up on me, Al. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

The room was silent.

Too silent.

You slowly glanced up.

Alastor’s shadow was gazing at you, unmoving from his spot by the door. Beside him, Alastor was looking past you and at the wall, his hands clenching his staff and his smile strained.

“You don’t need to say anything,” you said as you rushed to fix what you had broken. “Truly, you don’t. Let’s just go to Mimzy’s and forget that this ever happened.”

“Unfortunately, my dear,” Alastor drawled, his eyes flickering back to you. “This isn’t an interaction that either one of us will be able to forget by morning.”

You swallowed heavily, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to escape. “Please, Al.” Your voice was hardly a whisper. “Don’t give up on me, not now.”

At your words, his shadow melted into the ground and materialized before you, placing both hands gently on your cheeks and lowering his head down until your foreheads touched. Just as suddenly, the shadow stepped back and melted into the ground again, allowing the real Alastor to take his place.

He looked down at you once again, but this time, his expression was almost open, almost tender, almost endearing. He took your hand in his and pressed it to his lips before pressing it to the place that his heart would have been beating if you had met in another life.

For a moment, he said nothing. You waited with bated breath, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest at the fact that Alastor had yet to release you.

Then, when you thought you couldn’t bear the silence any longer, Alastor hummed softly. “I do hope you haven’t started to doubt me, my dear.”

“Never,” you vowed without a moment’s hesitation.

Alastor’s smile seemed to ease slightly. “I may not rely on you as much as you yourself would like.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was trying to choose his words carefully. “But do know this, mon chere. I doubt I would still be in one piece if it wasn’t for you. And I have no intention of giving you up.” His eyes flashed. “Not ever.”

Your knees almost gave out as you breathed a sigh of relief. Without thinking, you pressed forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around him tightly. “Thank you, Al,” you whispered, your spirit bright.

Alastor gently took hold of your shoulders and pushed you back, though his eyes shined softly. “Careful now, my dear. We wouldn’t want to ruin all of Angel Dust’s hard work, now, would we?”

You laughed and lowered your arms. “I guess not.”

The Radio Demon smiled down at you, holding out his arm like the gentleman he was. “Shall we, then, my dear?”

You smiled back at him. For all of his secrets and tricks, he had only ever been kind to you. Why wouldn’t you accept?

You linked your arm through his and grinned as he guided you towards the door.

Perhaps you were doing a better job with Alastor than you had thought.

A/N: I've got Hazbin Hotel on the brain. Part 2 of sorts coming soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!

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faetima · 16 hours

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𝐝𝐥𝐦𝐥𝐮 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝) . .

. . you have hanahaki, a severe case of shyness, and a crush on scaramouche, and scaramouche is an absolute jerk.

// tws ; blood ; gn reader ; hanahaki & modern au ; slight cursing

a/n: first time posting here yippee (pls be nice)

you sobbed, heaving up stupid yellow carnations while sitting on the cold, hard floor of the school bathroom.

you wretched up the damned flowers. they fell ungracefully into the toilet which sat in front of you.

your knees hurt from sitting on them for so long.

if only you could tell him how you felt. it would finally all be over, one way or another. maybe with your feelings being requited.

or maybe with you choking to death, the only thing with you while you die being the stupid fucking flowers.

you coughed again, pale yellow petals fluttering to the ground elegantly.

it was a stark contrast to how, just moments after that, you were coughing your lungs out, flowers flopping down into the toilet in large clumps; stuck together by mucus and blood.

you wheezed and wheezed and wheezed until it felt like there was nothing left in your lungs and your throat was burning and your knees were bruised.

you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until there were no more tears left.

you coughed and coughed and coughed to the point you thought maybe just dying would be better than this fucking hell.

you curled into a ball, crying. crystalline tears ran down your cheeks, falling onto your clothes, the ground, anything.

if only you could fucking talk. why were you like this? why were you fine with your friends, but so terrified to talk to anyone? to everyone?

to him?

maybe, just maybe, if you were different you wouldn’t be in this situation.

if only you weren’t so pathetic, so stupid, so scared.

you hated yourself. you hated yourself so, so much. who the fuck was this terrified to talk to people, but opened up so easily once others talked to them?

maybe you should just confess and get it all over with.

—

you opted to just give him a letter anonymously.

who knew if he would even read it? he received dozens of confessions everyday.

even if he did read it, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

—

if you could, you would eat up your words.

it was much, much worse than you thought.

he had ripped open the envelope, immediately reading the letter with a scowl.

he wasn’t even halfway through when he burst out laughing.

”what the fuck is this?” he snickered, holding onto his locker so he wouldn’t fall from how hard he was laughing.

”what pathetic fucking weirdo confesses from an anonymous letter? are they too terrified to say it to my fuckin’ face?”

he continued reading the letter.

when he was done, he crumpled it up and threw it away behind him, still laughing.

”that’s so goddamn stupid.”

unfortunately, the crumpled up letter hit you on your head.

not embarrassing, right?

well, it wasn’t until scaramouche saw it had hit you.

”oh, sorry,” he exclaimed in a voice dripping with mock sweetness.

”didn’t see you there.”

it would’ve been fine until his next comment, which you unfortunately overheard.

”these dumb fucking bitches. they’re so stupid, can’t even move out of the way. what are they, blind?” he muttered under his breath, tone condescending.

you burst into tears right then and there, unable to stop the overflow of emotions.

you walked away as quick as you could, wanting to kill yourself right there.

”so emotional, and over what?”

his laugh rang down the hallway, following and taunting you.

—

you don’t know what had come over you that day. before that you had always tried to keep your emotions in check, always tried to stop the tears from coming out in front of people you didn't know.

maybe hearing your crush degrade and insult you had just struck a chord or something.

—

weak coughs wracked your frail body, using up the little energy you had left.

you were on your death bed (quite literally! you were laying on your bed while dying).

honey yellow flowers surrounded you, their sickly sweet scent making you feel nauseous.

you choked up another batch of the flaxen flowers, watching them flop forward onto your bed sheets, staining them a dull crimson because of the blood on them.

with half lidded eyes, you stared at the carnations. your mind was hazy, and your vision blurred.

if you recalled correctly, they symbolized disdain and rejection.

how fitting.

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carnivorousyandeere · 23 hours

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“It happened again,” you cried. “Every time. I’m so stupid.”

Your hands ball into fists, covering your face, and Marcus gently grasps your wrists to help keep you from hitting yourself. “Shh, hey... Take a deep breath, and tell me what happened.”

Marcus’ touch frays your already-frayed nerves, overloaded nervous system a thread away from snapping apart and unraveling at the seams, but you force yourself to take a deep breath, then two.

“Somebody lied to me. I believed them.” A shuddering sob. It sounds stupid when you say it out loud, something so benign and everyday it might as well be a cloud in the sky. But to you, it’s failure, inadequacy, separation, a pattern. “W-when I tried to tell my friends, they…” You take another deep breath. “M-most of them looked at me with pity, like— like I’m stupid. One of them laughed. But they’re right, aren’t they? I’m so stupid, for trusting people like that. It happens over and over again, I can’t—”

“You’re not stupid.”

You are too trusting. Naïve, gullible even. But it’ll be okay— that’s why Marcus is there to look after you, to take care of you, to protect you.

Marcus pulls you into a tight hug, strong arms anchoring you in his warmth. He’s solid and steady, even as your exhausted body loses balance and crumbles into his embrace. You wonder if you’re imagining the ghost of his lips against the top of your head. Marcus imagines killing your friends. Or at least the one who laughed at you.

#oc Marcus #yandere therapist #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere cw #light angst

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overtheimaginationwall · 3 days

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<<Rolling Cornerstone>>

One more time, one more time

"I'll roll along just one more time."

The man said, the man said

Brigning light into his words!

"How about now?"

"I'm alright."

"You must be exhausted from it all."

So, we'll hold our breaths from now on.

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sunnynwanda · 1 day

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Something Blue

Warnings: I assume none, but if you notice something, let me know! Light angst romance, basically. Heavily based on/ inspired by VOILÀ - Something blue.

The wind is harsh against Villain’s face, prickling his skin with each cold blow. The crisp air bites into his lungs, filling them alongside the deep-settled tightness. When Villain reaches the central square, the sun is high in the sky, but the air lacks the warmth expected from a spring day. She hates it when the noons are this chilly.

The square is already full to the brim, a good half of the city there to witness Hero’s wedding. She’s always been a crowd favourite, and the groom being the mayor’s son only brought more publicity to the event. And Villain… Villain would never be good enough. He hisses at the annoying voice in the back of his head to quiet. The same voice that prompted him to leave before she could, to let her go before he got hurt. He takes in the grandeur of the cathedral, its enormous oak doors decorated with flower arrangements. It looks magnificent. She hates big weddings and magnolias.

It doesn’t take much time to round the square and sneak into the cathedral through a back door. The reality of it all seems to hit Villain much harder once he steps inside. Coming here today was a bad idea. Villain’s fingers curl into fists, his breathing coming out in frantic huffs as he climbs the stairs. A part of him considers turning around right this instant, but he doesn’t allow himself to. Not today. He won’t be a coward again.

He walks past several ajar doors before coming to a halt in front of the only closed one. With a deep breath, Villain pushes it open. Hero is standing in front of a full-length mirror, and she looks stunning. His breath hitches in his throat, every single thought leaving his mind the second his eyes lock onto her form. She doesn’t seem to notice him yet, so he shuts the door behind his back, careful not to make any noise as he steps closer. She keeps fidgeting with the hair framing her face in soft brown waves. She hates having her hair up.

Villain stops behind her, his mind racing. He rakes a hand through his hair, brushing the dark strands back from his forehead, and before his brain can comprehend what he’s doing, his arm wraps around her middle, pulling her back against his chest.

“You look beautiful,” his voice murmurs against her ear. Hero shudders, her eyes flying up to meet his gaze through the mirror. Her lips press into a thin line. Don’t do this to me. Villain’s arm tightens around her. “Absolutely ravishing.”

“Don’t lie,” Hero leans back into him, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder. “White was never my colour. Good thing I don’t own this dress.” She shrugs, her tone a tad too impassive for his liking.

Villain lets out a light chuckle, yet his sharp eyes remain pained. He wouldn’t give a damn what she wore if only it was him with her. “It’s something borrowed then?”

“What?” Hero tilts her head to look at him, still wrapped in his arms. Her eyebrow raises quizzically, when he doesn’t loosen his hold. She hates the way his body fits against hers so well.

“You know how that thing goes? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Villain lists, not registering when his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles into her forearm.

She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her hazy brown eyes. Villain’s chest tightens as he watches her expression. He loved how her eyes would shine, and her nose would scrunch when she laughed with her full heart. How she laughed with him.

“I'm the old, and he's the new,” he explains, pausing to swallow the lump of emotions in his throat. “And since he gave you the borrowed dress, I figured it should be me that gives you something blue.”

Hero’s heart slams against her ribcage with a savage force. She wants to push him away, to yell at him, to demand for him to leave and never show his face again after how he abandoned her for idiotic reasons. Instead, her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek. “Oh?”

“Remember the time when I bought you a locket in the flea market?” Villain recalls, watching her breathing pattern go from frenzied to still. Hero goes rigid in his arms, her irises blown wide, not daring to take a breath in for fear of losing it entirely. “Where did it go?”

“I- I must have lost it,” her voice is small, words tumbling off her lips almost unconsciously.

“Feels symbolic, don’t you think?” Villain’s hands leave her body as he pulls the locket with a blue stone embedded in its ornaments out of his pocket. He moves her hair to the side and fastens the clasp, his fingers brushing against the side of her neck in a tender touch. He gulps, his darkened eyes locking onto the reflection of her watering ones. “Like losing your love and having to watch it.”

He can’t stop himself as his head dips into the crook of her neck, eyebrows furrowing when his lips leave a lingering kiss against her bare shoulder, sending a chill of goosebumps along her spine.

Hero lets out a shaky exhale, averting her eyes from the mirror. She hates that he is here. She hates that he’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt. She hates that he looks dashing, too. She hates how perfect they look together. She hates how he could… “It’s cold for a wedding, isn’t it?”

Villain withdraws despite his reluctance, his fingers twitching to take hold of her again until he wraps his arm around her waist. “Are your feet getting cold?” He attempts to sound lighthearted, but the quiver of his voice gives it all away.

Hero shakes her head, her dejected expression wrenching Villain’s heart in a way he didn’t think possible before. “They were never warm in the first place.”

He doesn’t know how to take that. He doesn’t know how to take any of this anymore. It feels like the sky is shattering over his head, burying him alive.

“There's something I must confess,” Hero whispers as if saying it louder would mar the sanctity of the cathedral walls. She disentangles from Villain’s arms, stepping towards the door as Canon in D begins playing. “I wish it was you instead.”

She offers him one last glance before stepping out the door, a trembling hand clasped over her mouth to keep the sobs raking through her body from escaping.

Her words echo in Villain’s mind like a tocsin as he rushes through the doors, only to catch a glimpse of her as she begins walking down the aisle. He walks in, remaining at the doors as she reaches the altar. He knows he should wait on the priest to give him the time to speak, but his stomach is in knots, adrenaline rushing through his blood like a fire ready to burn the damn church down.

Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today…

“To watch a big mistake,” Villain’s voice booms through the nave of the cathedral, reflecting off of the vault and spilling down onto the guests’ heads, which snap to stare at him as he steps forward.

“I'm not gonna hold my peace,” Villain meets Hero’s tormented gaze, her throat closing in as she sees his face contorted in a mixture of pain and desperation. “I’m not gonna…” He pauses, his breath hitching when the flames reach his chest, burning a hole through his lungs. “What I mean to say is, my feelings haven't changed.”

Hero’s blood runs cold. She’s frozen in place, watching him approach her with an unreadable expression while her groom growls something in her ear with a displeased expression. For better or for worse, Villain can’t hear what he’s saying to her.

He knows coming here today was a bad idea. Watching Hero today was supposed to desecrate whatever was left of his heart, to wreck the shrine of her in his chest, to utterly and wholly rip him apart.

But...

But then she takes his hand, meeting his pleading gaze as tears brim her eyes. Villain brings her hand up, pressing it to his lips before pulling her towards him as they sprint down the aisle. He leads her out through the same back door he came through and along narrow sidestreets away from the crowded square. By the time her groom stops throwing a fit, Hero is in Villain’s car as he drives them out of the city, his hand still clutching hers tightly. He brings it up to his lips again, turning to look at Hero, cast in the afternoon sun. She looks otherworldly with her hair down, playing in the wind.

“White is absolutely your colour,” he mutters softly, his eyes darting down to his shirt on her, her dress left somewhere along the road.

Hero snorts, shaking her head as she shifts closer, leaning her head on his shoulder, her hand in his tight hold. He still can’t wrap his head around the events of the day, but he can lace his fingers through hers. He can kiss the tip of her nose and make her scrunch it as she giggles. He can kiss her smiling lips over and over again. He can pull her into his chest and hold her close to his heart.

Villain will be damned if he lets go again.

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

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skylark233 · 1 day

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#dark academia #literature #poetry #poem #life quotes #light acamedia #light angst #love quotes #love #loneliest #sad thoughts #alone with my thoughts

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callme-aprilroseisha04 · 2 days

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my take on the “do you think we’re friends in every universe”, voices!au version

Sonic and Tails are both at home, and Tails is working on Shadows prosthetic so it can’t electrocute him anymore.

Tails: Do you ever think about alternate universes?

Sonic: Like the Shatterspaces?

Tails: Kinda, but it’s a little different. Well, you know how the universe is infinite, right?

Sonic: Yea, I knew that.

Tails: Since it’s so big, there’s an infinite amount of possibilities for universes? Like, there could be a universe when I’m blue and you’re orange! Or one where Eggman’s good and I’m bad!

Sonic: That one would be pretty hard to believe.

Tails: Well, there’s a lot of things to explore when it comes to this, and I’ve always wondered about these kinds of things.

Sonic: (pauses) Do you think we’re brothers in every universe?

Tails: Like I said, there’s an infinite amount of universes, so it’s pretty much impossible for us to be brothers in every one.

Sonic: (looks down, disappointed) Yea I get it. Sorry for the stupid question.

Tails: (thinks for a minute) Well, I know it’s illogical but…. I hope we are. After all…….

(Cut to Nine’s dead body)

I’d feel really bad for a Tail’s without a Sonic to protect him.

Sonic: (looks at glove, flashes back to when he killed Nine, then back to present) Protect, huh?

————————————————————————

im prolly gonna draw this later, but I don’t know how later so just wait I guess

you can draw it if u want

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sth au #voices!au #do you think we’re friends in every universe?#sonic prime #sonic and tails #tails nine #miles tails prower #light angst

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rosipuree · 3 months

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something stupid

Hai my cuties! This is super short I'm so sorry, I've been so tired but I wanted to upload something for you all!

Toji Zenin x Fem! Reader, slight mention of Nanami Kento x Fem! Reader

He cheated on you.

He cheated on you while you were holding his child.

He cheated on you during the times you needed him the most.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized but his face, his eyes, his tone. It showed that he didn’t care, not an ounce of sympathy.

You left him for the better. You tried planning on how co-parenting could work out when Mai gets older. But of course he didn’t help.

Now that Mai was old enough for Toji to take, you’d see a new woman every week. “I don’t want my daughter to grow up in an environment like that Toji.” You confessed to which he didn’t care.

“I’m serious with her. So you don’t have to be worried about Mai.” He confessed as you’ve seen the same woman at his house for a couple weeks now. It hurt, it hurt to see him move on. It hurt to see him with new woman every week. It hurt when he cheated on you.

It also hurt him. It hurt him when he saw a blonde, tall, muscular man carrying his little Mai as you were getting her bag ready. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.” You say rushing to get her things ready for him.

Toji glared at the man as he grabbed Mai from him. “Toji, the father of her kid.” He greeted but it wasn’t very greeting. “I know—I’m Nanami, Her boyfriend.” Toji clenched his jaw. This man was no joke. He didn’t expect for Nanami to sound so serious.

“Papa!” Mai babbles as she plays with Toji’s hair. He looked so unserious compared to Nanami. “Here I made sure everything was in there. If you need anything me and Nanami could always stop by.” You smiled. You smiled at Toji? A smile he hasn’t seen since.

Toji stalked your account that night. Then he stalked Nanami’s account. Business man. Rich? Fit? And his profile only contained pictures of you and him.

He watched Mai sleep peacefully that night. Mai was just as beautiful as you. Lazy as Toji of course.

Toji left the woman he claimed he was getting serious with. He got with her to spite you but now it’s not so funny when you did it. Not on purpose of course because you were never bitter to Toji, even after all he’d done.

Toji’s ears perked up at the distinct giggles of his daughter and you. He looked up from the aisle in the grocery store to see you, Nanami and Mai all together. Even if Mai didn’t look relatively related to Nanami, they still looked like a happy family. A happy family that Toji could’ve cherished if he wasn’t so stupid.

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miserycanary · 24 days

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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you.

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night.

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind.

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not.

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well.

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle.

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt.

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him.

God, what has he done?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #light angst #ghost mw2 #ghost angst #ghost fic #simon ghost x you #canary’s melodies

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euthymiaaa · 5 months

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— longing for someone prompts ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

im bathing in angst rn, enjoy!

them haunting your mind constantly, but are you even in theirs?

unconciously searching for them wherever, whenever

itching to text them, yet the guilt of pestering them hits

your stomach being on edge whenever you see someone who has a similar figure to theirs

regularly scouring their social media for any updates

them acting so sweetly which turns out to just be a cruel dream

envy creeping up your throat whenever other people hangout with them

taking them off your mind by hanging out with your friends, just for you to only see bits of their personality in your friends

weeping frustruatedly on your knees because you can't stop recalling your memories with them

surrendering to your insecurities; perhaps they truly are better off without you

hopelessly persuading yourself that you were able to go on with life before knowing them, so you can definitely do it after they left

urging the universe to see them one last time before letting them go (it never happens anyways)

"if anyone is listening, please let our paths intertwine again before the day I take my last breath"

#imagine your otp #otp prompts #dialogue prompt #otp ideas #romance prompts #writing scenarios #angst dialogue #light angst #missing someone prompts #angst prompts #writing prompts #wow i was really feeling myself with this one #idk if this is platonic or romantic rip #breakup prompts #heartbreak prompts

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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things.

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax.

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration.

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers.

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler.

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words.

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers! How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?"

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!"

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling.

"I could do this all day, princesa. "

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure.

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit.

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive.

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time.

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far.

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him.

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar.

"You okay?"

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you. "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all."

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two.

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand.

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over.

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you.

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass.

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder.

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?"

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink.

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar.

He stretches out his hand, and you take it.

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words.

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck.

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do.

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him.

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you.

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer.

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in.

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness.

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him.

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension.

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip.

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck.

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders.

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out.

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper.

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile.

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face.

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more.

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words.

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is.

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate all your needs.

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order.

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk.

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -"

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains.

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary.

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-"

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious .

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body.

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something.

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up.

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?"

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression is steady, just as unreadable.

"Do you want to?"

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over.

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me."

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust.

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod.

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man.

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper.

"Fuck, Miguel."

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares.

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans.

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters.

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm.

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?"

You nod frantically with a stifled sob.

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please."

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?"

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks.

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers.

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath.

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought.

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy.

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum.

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago.

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process.

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?"

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles.

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa."

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader #headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #jealousy

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moechies · 5 months

Text

don't cry . .

sukuna doesn't know what to do.

"what are you doin?" he mumbles to you, watching blobs of tears fall down your cheeks.

"stop," his voice is gentle; his attempts of pushing your tears back into your eyes fail miserably. he resorts to wiping your tears away, but the spilling from your eyes don't stop. after numerous attempts of stopping your tears, he decides it's best to cover your eyes completely with his large hand, hoping to stop the flow.

why does he have to put up with something so weak? someone so vulnerable, unable of keeping their emotions kept. how were you going to survive this world?

he keeps his hand placed on your face holding you tightly against himself, until he no longer feels the hics in your chest nor the sniffling from your nose.

"don't cry."

#jjk #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #light angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #shorts ᡣ𐭩

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theyluvkarolina · 1 month

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

Part One , Part Two ' ' 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓 ' '

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` no! you’re married to me! she’s the other woman! ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Being in love with your friend is the best! Until your wort dream comes true.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ lando norris x friend!reader (one-sided love)

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ none!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ angsty…?

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 ୨୧ The Other Woman - Lana Del Rey

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ sheeee’sss baaaaacckkkkk!!! so sorry i’ve left you guys high and dry! this work isn’t my favorite but definitely improved in my eyes! for my other mclaren supporters, how are we feeling with the results so far? personally, we can always improve, but I’m very happy with how they have been so far! Especially Oscar! :) (OP81 fic coming soon! 😉 )

hmmmm kinda feeling to make a part two but I will let you all decide! ;))

TWITTER

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y/n.jpeg

liked by, landonorris, maxverstappen1, ybsf_username and others

y/n.jpeg pre-race-week pizza day :)) someone is now banned from the kitchen after almost setting the AirBnB on fire.

1,234 comments

landonorris it’s not my fault it had a hard oven to use 🙄

→ y/n.jpeg says the one that left the pizza in the oven for MORE THAN TWO HOURS??? → username1 TWO HOURS???? → username2 don’t let that man cook ever again. → y/n.jpeg trust me, i plan on it → landonorris you just don’t know real gourmet dishes. → y/n.jpeg okay buddy 💀

maxverstappen1 i think chrales met his match for worst cook

→ charles_leclerc the next race it won’t be just a inchident. → maxvertsappen1 🤐 → username3 THAT’S CRAZY 😭😭

ybsf_username WE NEED TO HANG OUT SOON :(( i don’t want to see you spend time only with this stinky man

→ y/n.jpeg DW I GOT YOU 🙏🙏 → landonorris STINKY?!?!?!

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y/n.jpeg has posted a story!

[Caption!]: Me and Pookie #1 cheering for Pookie #2! (w/ @ ybsf_username)

y/n.jpeg

liked by landonorris, ybsf_username charles_leclerc and others

tagged; ybsf_username and landonorris

y/n.jpeg congrats to my boy and everyone for the tremendous job they did! congrats to @ mclaren for their placement this race.

p.s. Y/Bsf/N and Lando met for the first time today! I think they like each other 🙃

2,345 comments

ybsf_username my gf is so pretty 😍😍😍

→ landonorris who said she’s your gf?? → ybsf_username why are you asking??? → username5 not them fighting over Y/N 💀

ybsf_username i hate him i’m gonna chop his weenie off

→ landonorris im feeling rather unsafe right now. → username4 LMAOOO

username5 SHES SO PRETTY

landonorris i don’t like your friend she’s scary.

y/n.jpeg

liked by ybsf_username, landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

therealyn_ln they are friends now! nothing a little partying can’t fix 🥂

tagged; ybsf_username and landonorris

3,456 comments

ybsf_username okay he’s not the worst 🙄 🙄

→ therealyn_ln :)) → landonorris i’m honored → ybsf_username don’t think this would be a usual thing for me to admit mr. norris. → landonorris yes ma’am 🫡 → username11 I can’t be the only one sensing some romantic-ish tension here am i? → username12 time for your meds gram-gram!!

username6 oh god

username7 after the last post celebration post I don’t know what to expect…

username8 i’m so happy the duo is expanding into a trio

username9 someone check on Y/N

→ y/n.jpeg no need! I’m fine! → oscarpiastri how many drinks did you have again? → y/n.jpeg 12 why? → oscarpiastri yep we’re taking you home.

y/n.jpeg guys, is it normal to think you guy best friend is hot?

y/n.jpeg why don’t I like it that they are laughing together

y/n.jpeg i don’t want him to forget about me

**THESE COMMENTS HAVE BEEN DELETED….**

username10 i can’t be the only one that saw those comments… right?

y/n.jpeg i think i had too much to drink…

→ oscarpiastri you think?

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y/n.jpeg

liked by ybsf_username, georgerussell, landonorris and others

y/n.jpeg the vienna balls are pretty cool. absolutely loved it in austria! 3 days till race day :)

tagged; ybsf_username and landonorris

4,563 comments

username13 idk guys this rubs me the wrong way.

username14 this feels… so forcibly positive?

username15 she literally looks like the third wheel not even a friend :(

landonorris haha balls

→ ybsf_username you re literally so immature → landonorris piss off, suck these balls.

ybsf_username my girl looks so gorgeous

→ y/n.jpeg right back at you wifey → landonorris so does mine 🥴 *Liked by ybsf_username!* → ybsf_username no. → username16 uhm! → username17 Oh!!

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landonorris

liked by ybsf_username

landonorris bone apple teeth as the french say

tagged; ybsf_username

5,231 comments

charles_leclerc that is not how you say it in french.

→ landonorris oui oui baguette Monsieur Leclerc → charles_leclerc 😐 → pierregasly 😐 → estebanocon 🥖 🍷

username18 who is that? where is y/n for pre-race-week pizza day? :(

→ username24 it’s never pre-race-week pizza day without y/n :(

username19 guys… that’s not Y/N’s hair color…

username20 call me crazy but i think that’s Y/Bsf/N

→ username21 that makes no sense… → username22 i mean, lately, lando has been spending more time with her… → username23 not only that, y/n looks like her own third-wheel to friends that just met each other. Have you seen their posts together over the past couple of weeks?

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y/n.jpeg

liked by franciscac.gomes, lilymhe, lailahasanovic, flavy.barla and others

y/n.jpeg girls grils glirs !!

tagged; franciscac.gomes, lilymhe, lailahasanovic, flavy.barla

2,874 comments

lailahasanovic the best 🩶

→ y/n.jpeg mwah mwah → mickschumacher :( → lailahasanovic still love you though lovey 🫶 → mickschumacher :)

lilymhe FUNTIME FUNTIME FUNTIME

y/n.jpeg guys don’t drink if you are under 18

y/n.jpeg or 21 if you are a weird american

→ logansargeant this feels aimed. → y/n.jpeg noooooo

y/n.jpeg guys i’m at my limit!!! and not with alcohol!!

→ username24 Y/N :((( → franciscac.gomes literally call me right now. we’ll have a pasta night! :) → y/n.jpeg what about pierre?? → franciscac.gomes he won’t mind! → pierregasly I won’t??? → franciscac.gomes now you won’t!

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y/n.jpeg

liked by franciscac.gomes, pierregasly and others

y/n.jpeg pasta night with my girl is better than pizza :)

ps. thank you big brother pierre for the photos 🫶

tagged; franciscac.gomes

pierregasly anything for my girlfriend’s girlfriend

→ franciscac.gomes mwah mwah ❤️ → y/n.jpeg best honorary big brother → pierregasly normally I don’t like this… but I’ll let it slide. → franciscac.gomes 😼 😼 😼

username24 BIG BROTHER PIERRE!!

username25 i hope Y/N finds someone that loves her :(

alexandrasaintmleux sorry I couldn’t join :((

→ y/n.jpeg don’t worry alex 💕 it’ not our fault charles stole you from us

charles_leclerc what is the pasta recipe? it looks delicious 😋

→ y/n.jpeg one you can’t make and one you definitely can’t serve to alex. charles_leclerc enough. 😒 😒

y/n.jpeg men ain’t shit ladies!!

**COMMENT HAS BEEN DELETED**

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