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racinggirl · 3 days

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furthest from truth

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼

Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.

It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.

‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.

‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’

She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.

You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.

After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?

Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.

The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.

‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.

‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.

‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.

‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.

Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.

‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.

‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.

‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.

You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.

‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’

You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.

‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.

‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’

Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.

‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.

Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.

‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.

You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.

You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.

People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.

‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.

‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.

‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.

‘’But the image McLa-..’’

‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.

‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.

landonorris added to his story

landonorris & yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others

I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡

view all 39,264 comments

user1 I feel ashamed

user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.

user2 You are so so so cute together!

‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.

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killerlookz · 6 hours

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Growing Pains | Spencer Reid

pairing: s2!spencer reid x gn! reader

description: after spending what felt like an eternity pining over Spencer Reid, the two of you finally began moving towards becoming something... until his run-in with Tobias Hankel seemed to put a stop to every aspect of Spencer's life, even his relationship with you.

details: Spencer's post-revelations related trauma, angst! and fluff (hurt with comfort), sporadic flashbacks

word count: 2,321

i hate that i can't love you, but I'm just in the way / but you say i won't be here forever, and you'll take as long as it takes

Your cold hands ached as they struggled to make a fist, raising that balled-up hand to the dark, wooded door.

Every day for the last week and a half you'd come to this very door, that of your friend, Spencer Reid. And every day for the last week and a half you would knock on the door and hope with anxious breaths for an answer. Only to receive no response.

Part of you would worry he was dead if it wasn't for the fact that at the very least he had managed to at least call out of work each and every day. It was so typical of Spencer ,it almost made you smile. Even after all of the trauma he had just gone through, he still made sure to call out of work. No one expected to see him back at the BAU for a while. Not after Tobias Hankel.

Despite all too much of it having been live-streamed directly to you and the rest of the BAU, you knew very little of what had actually happened to Spencer in the time he had been taken by Tobias Hankel, nobody did. And the truth is, you barely knew of what was live-streamed. Maybe it made you "weak" in comparison to the rest of the team, but you just couldn't bear to look at Spencer in that state. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to live was already too much to handle- even now, knowing he was safe, you still had trouble sleeping, the scenario of having not made it in time playing through your mind over and over again.

Knock, knock, knock

You held your breath in anticipation as your hands hit the door, you bit your lip in a painful desperation. Please, Spencer. You beg, your voice cracking as you whisper to yourself.

No response.

It wasn't like Spencer to not talk to you, especially not for days on end. The two of you had been friends since the academy. You were instantly drawn to him, maybe it was his impressive memory, or how passionate he was about his work, maybe it was his awkward boyish charm, or his sweet smile, or how his eyes lit up when he won a game of chess or cards, and the way he scrunched his nose whenever he laughed, maybe it was the way his sweaters never fit just right, and his socks never matched, or-

It was more than sufficient to say that you had fallen head over heels for Spencer, more than you had for anyone else in your life, you were in love. He was kind, and inviting, and you could never understand why everyone else seemed to make fun of him. And finally after what felt like an eternity of pining, and planning for the perfect moment- a french film marathon at Spencer's apartment and a few too many glasses of cheap wine was what let your feelings slip. You could still feel the way your stomach dropped as the words left your tongue,

"You know I love you, Spence"

"Yeah- like- as a friend." He stuttered, obviously caught off guard

You could have saved yourself then, played it cool, and said yes, but before you could stop yourself your head was shaking no.

Spencer's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile, "Really?" He looks down at his lap, his fingers rapidly tapping against his knee, "I- wow- I-" He shakes his head and looks back at you, "I love you too."

With a few blinks you find yourself back in reality. You could only live in memories for so long. You sighed, as tears welled up in your eyes. Part of you wondered if you were being selfish, crying about how you missed him when he was going through so much worse.

You wiped your stinging eyes, fuck it. You needed to know how he was doing. You reach into the pocket of your coat, feeling around before gripping the cool metal of your key ring. You pull it out of your pocket before gripping the keys that hung from it tightly in your hands. The dull metal pressed into the skin of your hands, and your cold, stiff fingers gripped harder to the point where it hurt. You closed your eyes, wincing as you tightened your fist around the metal even harder, trying to convince yourself to go through with your plan. At some point of you and Spencer "going steady" you had exchanged keys to each other's apartments.

You released the key ring from your grip, a red indent left in the palm of your aching hand. You sift through the various keys and with a loud jingling sound, the other keys fell to the bottom of the ring as you gripped the key to Spencer's apartment between your thumb and index finger. You sigh once more, telling yourself the worst that could happen is if he really doesn't want to see you he will tell you to leave and you will listen.

You push the key into the lock and twist it until you can turn the door handle. The door opens with a creak, and you step into the dark apartment, careful to close the door softly behind you. You can barely see two feet in front of you, all the lights are off and the blinds are drawn. Your hand slides up a wall as you fumble around for a light switch, flicking on the soft, warm wall light next to the door. You blink a few times, getting used to the light before your gaze darts over to the kitchen table. The apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was cluttered to a degree that you had never seen from Spencer before. He was usually so well organized. But now, papers, takeout containers, and half-drunken cups of coffee were scattered around the dark wooden surface.

It broke your heart to see Spencer's living spaces in such disarray, if this is what his apartment looked like, you couldn't even bear to think about what you might find if you were to peek inside his mind. Even with the lights now on, the dark green walls of the apartment never felt this dark to you.

You tread softly toward his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise against the creaky wood of his apartment floor. Part of you was aware of how creepy this seemed- and you worried maybe you'd scare Spencer by entering his room. Still- maybe it was selfish, but you missed him too much to allow another day go by without seeing him. Allowing Spencer to just stay holed up in his apartment for days on end was not going to do anything for anyone.

You press your hand against Spencer's bedroom door, it's opened just a crack and you're able to push the door open with a small creak. The room isn't as dark as the rest of his apartment, a few small beams of light from the setting sun peek into the small room from blinds that haven't been fully closed, drenching it with a warm orange color.

Spener's clothes are scattered throughout the room, and his brown leather bag had been thrown on the ground near the door, papers and books spilling out of it. You could almost guarantee it had been in that spot from the moment he got home from that dreaded case.

Your eyes flick up to the bed in the middle of the room where Spencer lay, his face down, stuffed into the pillows. His comforter had been kicked to the side, and the fitted sheet had come off one of the corners of the mattress.

You wondered just how much Spencer had actually left his bed since he had gotten home, the takeout containers and coffee cups in the dining room signified to you at least he did at some point leave his bedroom. Still, the sorry state of everything made you want to cry. How could anyone do this to him?

You slip off your shoes, and inch across the soft carpet closer to the bed, careful not to step on any of the clothes that were strewn about the floor.

"Spencer," You say, just above a whisper, attempting to let him know of your presence. He barely even stirs in response to the noise, turning onto his side deep in sleep.

As you got closer to the bed you could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess, long curly strands stuck to his cheeks with sweat, his eyes shut tight and his mouth almost turned down into a frown. Even in sleep, he looked so upset, so tortured. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about what he could have been dreaming about.

"Spencer?" You say again, weaker this time- your voice trembling with nerves.

No response.

You sigh, pulling off your jacket and allowing it to collect on the floor with the rest of the scattered clothes. You sit down on the edge of the bed and think carefully about your next move. You don't want to frighten him, but it may be impossible not to not after you basically broke in.

You reach a delicate hand outward and move a couple pieces of Spencer's hair from his cheek. His head moves slightly in response, but you continue to smooth your hand down the rest of the length of his hair. You can tell it's tangled, even without combing your fingers through it. You let your hand fall further, down his neck, resting on his bare back. He's warm to the touch as you rub soft circles on the exposed skin.

"Spencer?" You say again, louder this time leaning your body towards him.

His eyes flick open and he's jolted awake, swatting your arm away as a gasp leaves his mouth.

"H-hey," You grab his arm to prevent him from swinging any further, "It's just me Spence."

He stares at you wide-eyed, pupils dilated with a mix of confusion and fear. His throat rises with a thick swallow and his lip trembles. You begin speaking frantically,

"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fright-"

"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice is weak but there's a pointedness to his question.

"I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay- I haven't heard from you in a while and I was so worried about you I just-" Your brain was going a mile a minute before all of a sudden... your train of thought disappears as you look into Spencer's obviously pained eyes. His eyes blink rapidly as he attempts to hold back tears. The sheets have fallen off of him and his bare chest is shiny with sweat as it rises and falls rapidly. You let go of his arm, letting it drop down beside him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, too saddened at the state of him to continue.

Spencer stares at you for another moment before looking down, a single tear dripping down his pale cheek. Even now, like this he was still beautiful to you. And despite everything you couldn't help but for your heart to fill with love. But as your heart felt with love, the rest of your body overflowed with anxiety as you contemplated what to even do or say next. You stutter,

"D-do you want me to leave-"

"No." Spencer cuts you off. "Stay." He looks back up at you, "Please." His eyes are wet with tears that threaten to escape down his face.

"Of course," You nod, "of course," softer this time.

"Can we lay down?" Spencer asks, twisting his face. You nod fervently, swinging your legs onto the bed. You pat the pillow next to you, beckoning Spencer to lie back down. He does so, slowly, and you follow, your faces inches from each other, heads on the same pillow.

You inch yourself closer to Spencer, heat radiating off of his trembling body. You place a hand upon his cheek, stroking your thumb slowly back and forth.

"Am I ever going to be okay?" Spencer sniffles. The question feels like a knife had been stabbed right through your heart.

"Of course you will, Spence, " You assure, soft yet firm.

"It doesn't feel like it," He shakes his head, forcing your hand to fall from its spot on his cheek.

"These things take time, lots and lots of time."

"Yeah but-" He starts, getting choked up again, "What if you don't want to wait for me?"

"Wait for you?" You ask, confused as to what he meant.

"If I'm like this for too long." He answers, "You won't want to be around anymore."

"Oh Spencer," you shake your head, "No, no" You put your hand back onto his cheek.

"I feel like such a burden- that's why I haven't called," His voice breaks as he starts crying, really crying this time, "I mean- I'm an FBI agent, I should be able to get through this. Everyone else on the team would be back to work in an instant. And I can't even get out of bed."

"Spencer." You cut off his ramblings, "You are not a burden- you could have died, Spencer, no one is expecting you to be alright."

"I feel like I should be." He pauses, "I just don't want everyone to sit around worrying about me, I don't want you to sit around worrying about me. It's not fair."

"I worry because I care." You relay a small smile, "Because I love you."

"And that's what I'm afraid of, one day you'll realize you've spent so much effort worrying about me that you won't want to love me anymore."

"Never." You wipe the tears from Spencer's eyes, trying to give him gentle reassurance. "I'd wait forever for you to be okay."

a/n: woah long time no post? I haven't posted a fic on here in almost two years! sorry I'm a little rusty, I've been deeeep in a creative rut. I'm accepting requests now however, Ive missed you guys!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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restlesschilled · 2 days

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TMagP 013

Note: As Always, I am a backer so this was written 23 April, 2024 and scheduled to be posted on 25 April, 2024

oh god its another episodes written by Alex

awww thanks odin <3

Im dreading this

PRE STATEMENT/ CASE

OHHH DATE TIME

THE FLIRTING

This is so cute but i cant trust it because alex wrote it

"that you dont know how cute you are" adshfjagdhflakshdf

WERE STARTING WITH THE BIG STUFF

"hi im from an alternate universe"

CELIA IS A MOM

JACK IS HER BABY

"i had a while few years when I first moved here"

IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO CELIA OR JACK I WILL RIOT

HOW DARE

SHES A SINGLE MOM

"that depends on your baggage. DISH"

"they were the first ones that didnt want me" oooooooo\

Alice's Parents are dead good to know

"most pathetic vague post shes ever scene"

"more wine" "please"

LENA OFFICE

GWEN MY POOR BABY

"is it my fault?"

MY POOR PRECIOUS GIRL

"were managing the bad guys" FUCK

CASE

this hold music is a BOP

i had to stop and have my friend explain public school in England to me because that is not the same thing as American public schools

oh lovely a "fiance guy"

a hedge fund guy what i mean is a hedge fund guy

Why in gods name, would you use experimental setting on a hedge fund/ investing app… when you have no idea what it does and it has a shit tone of disclaimers??? i get being desperate but that's just stupid

also the irony of this guy saying hes a good person when hes betting on people failing with hedge funds

do people even steal phones anymore?

i feel like they are not worth all that much and just have to many ways to tack them for it to be worth anything unless you are targeting someone specifically

yeah i figured they might have targeted him

im pretty sure this would qualify as inside trading somehow

betting against your own company and than tanking the company is very illegal

pretty sure betting you'll have a shit time and then making sure you have a shit time would be the same thing

basically this man is committing insurance fraud... but through a hedge fund

it just occurred to me hes calling from the hospital that's what the beeping is

also vertigo mentioned

he was attack by computer bugs lol

shitty "finance guy" gets whats coming to him asmr

post statement

okay i know sam probably mean "be professional" like stop with the flirting

BUT WHEN YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT I SOUND LIKE YALL HAVE BEEN HOOKING UP AFTER WORK SOMETIMES.

HAVE YALL BEEN HOOKING UP?

this is how i choose to interpret this this is my new head canon( it was already kinda my head canon)

But if you ever ask me to be professional again, I'm going to have to take a shit on your desk." ALICE

"you signed the official secrets act in your onboarding. And I know all your school friends say treason's 'bussin'' and 'fire', but it won't look good on your CV." i love her so much

"its fine when I say it"

this episode really said fuck capitalism didn't it

also do week need to talk about the fact that celia's son is named Jack Ripley like jack the ripper

WAIT A SECOND JACK IS A NICKNAME FOR JOHN/JON

DID SHE NAME HER SON AFTER JON?

#this show has me in a chokehold #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol spoilers #gwen bouchard #celia ripley #tmapg #tmagp 13 #jack ripley #alice #alice dyer #lena #restless reacts to tmagp #live #liveblog

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omaano · 2 months

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Rex has a new workout buddy

Silly little companion (in spirit, if not in writing - but a man can dream) to The Art of Losing (Is Hard to Master) by the amazing @insertmeaningfulusername, the second chapter of which has just gone up this week! the little fluffball finally has a name!! :3

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throwing-roses-into-the-abyss · 1 year

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to all aroha's and anyone affected by the moonbin news: please be aware that the next couple of days will probably be very intense. take care of yourself, and check on your friends.

and please know that even though you didn't know him personally, it's okay to be upset, it's okay to be grieving. take your time. and despite what people will tell you, it's okay to be worrying about the idols who were friends with him.

#kpop #astro #moonbin #aroha #this is very sadly not the first time I'm watching this happen #and it probably won't be the last #but I know for a lot of kpop fans it IS their first time going through kind of situation #please be kind to people

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kwiwrites · 4 months

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having friends is wondering if they are annoyed by you everytime you dm them

#wow #the rare embarrassing emotions (tm) post #idk #sorry for inconveniencing u even though you've assured me ten times that you like talking to me very sorry #won't happen again #actually if you never want to talk to me at all and quite literally hate me and think I'm a thorn in your side please let me know I will #immediately stop talking to you #very sorry for inconveniencing you with my presence <3

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wild-at-mind · 3 months

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Not to talk about MRA-lite spaces again but I'm going to need everyone to understand that in these spaces, the subtext of 'men don't get to talk about their problems' is ALWAYS 'and it is women's fault!'

#my time in the MRA-lite saltmines returns to me yet again whenever i see the transandrophobia side of tumblr #look- it's just the same stuff ok? Or maybe i'm just biased because it triggers me the fucking same no matter who is saying it #also please note i'm saying MRA-lite and not MRA- I understand that MRA usually has connotations of violence for people #MRA-lite is nothing like that it's just a load of talking about men's issues but without any of the context #the very important context that you need to place the issues into wider society and its effect on everyone and not just men #these spaces may not be violent but they are quite pointless and the conversations never ever go anywhere #and it's been the same like 5 conversations for the past 15 years and no doubt much longer but that's as far back as i go with it #every time someone discovers the 5 or so men's issue they act like they just converted to a religion or something #and bring it up in everything. I was like that too at like 21 i promise i get it! but now i look back and CRINGE #and i am a guy now! ok? I get it that a lot of people are transmasc doing this i get why! but.....#i just wish it was less of a Thing. and i genuinely find it triggering.#because i do fucking care ok? i have academic books about some of the 5 or so men's issues on my bookshelf!#because actually there are people writing these books and they do care!#i had someone a while ago saying it was 'sad' to see a trans man talk like i do on this so i explained where i'm coming from #and they never came back so i will never know if they saw my point of view and that kind of sucked #hopefully that won't happen again- i really don't like arguing with other transmasc people (i like discussions though)#anyway i'll stop rambling now

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obstinatecondolement · 4 months

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Having a random panic attack about my stupid Work Trauma from this year. It never fucking ends.

#I am honestly this fucking close to just writing the headoffice a letter saying what happened there and how it's affected me #not in an 'I'm suing you' way or a 'I want my job back' way or even a 'these people should be in trouble' way #but a 'this happened to my while working at your company and it it shouldn't have #so please safeguard against it happening to other employees of yours in future'#since I don't want a fucking reference from this place anyway #I get panicky thinking about going to *the town where that shop is* never mind the shop itself #and my literal best friend who has chronic fatigue that would make it hard for her to shlep out somewhere else to meet me *lives there*#I've been back once but not to the main street where the shop is and I was very shakey when I arrived and left the building I went to #I probably won't though because I don't want them to talk to me ever again and it probably would get followed up on

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benevolentslut · 11 months

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(bit of a dark meta post here but)

if i had to pick a single song to represent ruby rose as a character, it would be My R (specifically the version by annapantsu)

like... it's a song about a girl, who goes up to a rooftop with the intent of jumping off. When she's up there, she finds another girl preparing to do the same, and after hearing her out, actually manages to talk her out of it, while internally wondering why this girl could possibly think her reasons are better for this than her own. they both come down from the roof.

she goes up again another day, and the same scenario happens, and she feels the same about it again. but they both come down together.

this happens again and again, time after time, with so many people, and every single time she talks them out of it, coming down with them, then returning another day to find someone else. and every time there's a nagging feeling of, "would anyone do this for me if I got here first?"

until one day... there is no one else up there. she's up there, on her own, with nothing to stop her, and she immediately starts wrestling with her feelings, wondering if she actually wants to go through with it, and then deciding, Yes, she wants to.

now the ending of the song can be interpreted multiple ways, some less hopeful than others, but I think the one that applies best to ruby is that the girl suddenly sees herself in all of the people she's stopped before, suddenly essentially thinks "there doesn't need to be anyone to do this for me, I can do it myself, for myself" and.. turns around at the last second, leaving her plans to jump behind, and moving forward.

and on top of all of that, the song is extremely upbeat, and sounds very cheerful if you don't listen to the lyrics. Much like ruby, hiding her own fears behind a wall of optimism and hope that she shows to others, that makes her into such a beacon of light to everyone around her. To everyone but herself.

In the beginning of the series, she's a limitless source of hope and determination, fuelling herself and everyone around her onwards and upwards. Until volume 4. She desperately tried to never let on to anyone else, but the fall of beacon deeply affected her. When penny died, so did so much of ruby's trust in herself to be the hero. She still had her hope, and she still had her attitude of "let's do the best we can", but that very slowly started to be for everyone else's benefit, and that difference became more and more apparent as the show went on.

Volume 8 was the tipping point for her, and all of her hope and trust in herself was hinging on - A, protecting the relics. B, saving atlas. C, saving penny. and D, warning remnant enough to prepare them.

And then... they fell. And in the ever after, she had no way of knowing what was going on in their own world anymore, except what RWBYJ collectively knew already. And what did the group know as a whole? They had no idea whether B or D had succeeded, but they knew for a fact that A and C had failed. And so, with penny dying Again, so too did the rest of ruby's hope.

Volume 9 is her, up on the rooftop, with no one to stop her.

#suicide tw #rwby #rwby meta #ruby rose #i'll be honest. listening to the song i find it hard to interpret the ending that way. idk if that's just my brain but /shrug #it does feel very v9 c8/9/10 though #get ruby rose a therapist and a hug please #also if i'm 100% honest.#the ending of v9 did feel a little *too* optimistic for her. like i'm so glad she's okay!!#and the blacksmith undoubtedly helped her to realise she'd been holding herself to an impossible standard #and helped restore so much of her faith in herself!#im entirely happy with her returning the way she did and the way she went back to remnant ready to face the world again #but just. i really hope the show doesn't act like THAT MUCH guilt and fear and self-doubt and loathing #can just completely disappear after one therapy session. even if that session is being run by god herself #like it's not like i want her to get held down by it again. and definitely not to the same degree. that would just be like v9 never happene #she's grown from her time in the ever after and i fully believe she'll be able to make it through #but just. it has to still be there. it has to be acknowledged #crwby please don't act like ascension completely fixed ruby.#it helped her and it definitely helped enough that she won't fall back into the exact same feelings as throughout v9 #but it has to be acknowledged.

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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year

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@m00nj3w3l @the16thelement there you go Italian besties <3 (Btw, she's referring to the Rashomon effect)

#Deleting this in 24 hours because like. that's not the content I want on my blog LMAO but you had to see it!!!!#Besides the video is on the TG La7 youtube channel but they do delete their videos after some days-#so you'd probably want to download it if you want to keep record of this historic moment #delete later #Btw this looks like a great moment to mention that the Rashomon effect wouldn't be a thing if it hadn't been for the Italian woman-#who brought the movie to the critics attention whereas before the movie had gone widely unnoticed by western spaces #It's also a great moment to mention that it was first distributed in Italy as “Rasciomon” lmao #Edit: And PLEASE don't let this circulate I swear I'm a very serious person who watches the news very seriously #I'm sorry for the Italian posting it won't happen again

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420pogpills · 2 years

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the mood on the dash seems to have gotten a lot more sad whilst i was in my own little bubble putting together that recommendation post and i've had a look on twitter and it's fair to say things aren't looking good right now. i'm gonna do my best to stay positive and see where we go from here - i am going to hold on to the hope that this can be fixed and that i won't have to stop supporting, because if i have to step away from dream, i will have to step away from mcyt entirely, because all of my favourite creators are so insanely closely linked.

feel free to send me an ask to let me know if you want some encouragement or positivity or cheering up or anything and i'll respond with some cute pics 💞 i'll be here to support everyone the best that i can until we see how this ends i suppose. ily all ❤️

#just posting this again because i previously said idk what's happened #but i've caught up now #but yeah i'm going to remain hopeful but not dismissive #so i won't be engaging in much content in the mean time #but i wanna stay here to support everyone and speak to anyone who may want to speak #ily all #please drop your twitters/personal accs if we're moots and you'd like to stay in touch <3 #most importantly - TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES <3 #everything will be okay #now i'm gonna go sleep on it #and also wait for dream's response #for his sake i hope it's coming very very soon #and then we'll see where we go from there #goodnight friends <3

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ur-fav-alien · 1 year

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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: All Elite Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Orange Cassidy & Donovan Danhausen Characters: Orange Cassidy, Donovan Danhausen Additional Tags: becoming friends, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Danhausen is strange, Orange Cassidy is also strange, They bond over their strange-ness and chinese food, implied: Chuck Taylor/Orange Cassidy Series: Part 2 of Danhausen + Friends Summary:

Some how, in the weirdness of the world, these two total opposites find solace in one another. Orange Cassidy and Danhausen are the best of friends.

#Danhausen #Orange Cassidy #aew fanfic #sup nerds!!!#that's affectionate dw <3 #I wrote more things (these had actually been in my drafts)#(these two fics were the first Danhausen fics I had ever made)#I love these two idiots so much and there's only two fics written about them and they're both smut so :/#not bashing those authors at all tho!!! love the fics ASKDFJ;LSDJ #I just think these two deserve some nice fluff friendship fics #because they are the bestest of friends #I'm gonna cry-#this is also just a small psa for any of my new reader: I get burned out pretty fucking easy LADKJF;LS #like i write so many ideas at once and then I go silent #but wrestling is super active and alive so I hope that won't happen again #*I look behind me at all my basically abdoned fics that belong to very active fandoms* ignore those <3 #anyway!! enjoy please!! mwah mwah mwah!!!

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fooltofancy · 2 years

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might throw up actually.

#not to be that dumb bitch who needs validation but @ my mom please pick up your phone i need someone else who knows me and my situation #more intimately than the internet where i complain #to tell me that giving up and moving back to sd is okay #i don't want to move back to south dakota #but like. the options are moving back to south dakota #or continuing whatever is happening here because i can't figure out here #at least if i'm working for pbs again i won't 1. hate my job 2. hate who i'm working for or 3. continue to destroy my hands #also i will just have. kinda space to figure out a number of things i don't even have space to think about rn #MOVING HARD THOUGH the apartment i was looking at previously is still listed but that makes me nervous lmao #there are so few properties that allow pets in verm because college town and that's fair #but god #i dont think i can move without lenore ):#will actually die #probably it will be lenore and sophie because i don't want the baby to have to be by herself #the worst part actually splitting up the cats #horatio will be so sad lenore is his pillow #but wyvern loves kiel and i don't think i can take him #idk if i can do this dude idk how to live #very much did not expect that position to open up so soon #though based on how training that man went. not particularly surprised. kinda surprised he lasted as long as he did

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chloeseyeliner · 16 days

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and here i thought miscommunication trope was never going to happen irl again and stay in fanfiction forever.

i was so wrong.

#like girl i am twenty by 2.5-3 days. i cannot keep doing this middle school stuff. i am sorry.#vent post #kind of??#haven't made one of these in a while #oversharing on the internet #once again #anyway #long story short #we were almost great friends exactly a week ago okay?#and then nothing happened #and she just. stopped acknowledging my presence????#like i am not playing the victim here i have made many mistakes in the past but as i am growing up i realise how wrong i was #and put effort in being better every day #and like everyone who knows me that well irl knows i am a very sincere person so i would never hide it if i actually hurt her here #i just. it's been such a long time since a person won't even talk to me??? while i am standing next to them??? out of freaking nowhere???#while i am trying to communicate???#like i won't speak with any details but the only words she has uttered directly at me these past seven days were 'bye' with her back-#-facing me today.#and i tried. i really tried. i am tired.#i'll give it another week because i cannot think clearly with all the anxiety surrounding the situation + sciatica (yes i know how?)#my best friend got really mad ngl lol #so i am just venting here because she is the calmest person i know and she was ready to put troy on fire when i told here everything lol-#i don't even know #i mean. we literally study human psychology inter alia at uni girl. please.#and what makes me the saddest is how our other friend is sad regarding the whole situation and she is trying for them both-#-while not knowing what the fuck is going on- not that i do but you know.#and it's all so sad.#*sighs*#i'd rather have her screaming at me if i did something wrong than completely ignoring me and behaving normally around everyone else...#last week we were literally talking of going to the kyoshi movie together. the 2025 MOVIE. i'm shattered.

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mosspapi · 9 months

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What do u do when you can't understand what someone on the street is asking you /g?

I was going to shoppers drug mart in a different city the other day and someone on the street outside the store asked me a question. He spoke very fast and softly, said he was losing his voice (I got that much) and then I didn't understand the rest of what he said. I told him "sorry, I'm a little slow, I'm not sure what you're asking." So he asked again and I still didn't get it. He said something about "food cards," not sure what those are, and asked about coming in with me I think? I told him again that I'm slow, not entirely understanding him, is there something specific he needs? And he said something about it being "just 15-25 dollars" and I think he could "show me what it was in the store". I was overwhelmed at this point so I said I have $20 in cash if that would help, gave it to him, and then went inside. Whole interaction was maybe 5 or 10 minutes of back-and-forth in total.

He was gone by the time I came out again like 5 minutes later so I don't actually know if he was able to get what he needed, but I'm not sure if there was anything else I could've/should've done. I was always told growing up to not let people follow me in to stores but I'm not sure if that's an actual valid safety concern or just my parents being classist/ableist/etc (/g). Should I have asked him to write it down somewhere? Is it ok that I just gave him a 20 and left, or was that rude? I was trying to help as best I could but I was just Not Understanding Him even tho I was trying. Idk it's been a few days and I feel bad abt it still but I genuinely don't know what else I should've done.

#if anyone DOES have suggestions for what to do if it happens again PLEASE lmk /g #like. it wasn't for lack of trying kn my part I genuinely wanted to help him out I just could not understand him so i didn't know what to do #just hope he was able to get his food cards (?) and didn't feel too hurt if I was rude #armchair speaks #I always try to not be rude to people but esp people who won't usually get that response so I hope it didn't come off as mean or dismissive #also if anything in this post comes off as classist/anti-homeless/etc I'm very sorry /g! words are hard today

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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Show me where it hurts (part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

GIF by aenhanse

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: You confront Miguel.

warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!)

a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.

wc: 4k ish

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

You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door.

You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.

He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets.

"You shouldn't be here." He strains.

Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?"

All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."

Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat.

"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."

He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"

You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp.

Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive.

It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "

You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?"

He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum.

He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."

You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head.

"What makes it feel better?"

Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-"

"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this?

"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."

"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."

His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-"

"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes.

"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."

He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."

You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter.

You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."

Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it.

"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better."

He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit.

"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "

You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."

It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face.

"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods.

Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause.

"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again.

Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard."

"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me."

"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?"

"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you."

"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand.

How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.

Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help."

Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-"

You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum.

Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy. Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him.

It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips.

"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy.

As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know.

He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry.

"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."

With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure.

"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.

Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong.

You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver.

"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."

" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-"

He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip. Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it.

"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out.

" Miguel, fuuuck."

How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised.

"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit.

He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities.

"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."

You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure.

"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."

With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body.

One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light.

And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back.

Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.

"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this."

You look at him in your haze, brows knitted.

"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though."

"Better , Miggy?"

"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."

You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous.

"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."

As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body.

"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- "

"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature.

"Let-" Smack. " Me-" Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack.

You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell.

'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure.

"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."

Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another.

"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist.

He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.

Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand.

"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another.

"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.

"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?"

Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit.

You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."

~~~

"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious.

The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily.

You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom.

"You didn't either." You throw back at him.

"That's not th-"

"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."

His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-"

"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"

"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you.

"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-"

"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight.

"...I don't understand."

"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."

You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this?

"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."

With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always.

You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say.

"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."

"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile.

Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to.

"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?"

Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"

"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."

"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."

"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest.

"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."

"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."

"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."

He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.

"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."

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