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#and then they had to come out say that it was a miscommunication and that they support free speech
wanderingsoul6261 · 2 days
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He did What?
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Credit for gif goes to k-wame
James Beaufort x Reader
synopsis: Requested by an Anon. Mortimer hits Y/N, and Percy takes her to James. Reader and James have been in a long running relationship.
This fic is significantly shorter than some of my others.
warnings: physical abuse
“A father should never treat his kids like you do James and Lydia. You’re a monster." Y/N wasn't sure where it came from, but she knew that she should have had more self-restraint. 
A crack sounded out and Y/N's head whipped to the side. Shock and surprise filled her body and her left ear started ringing. She could hear Percy scrambling to her, having come to take her to James at Cyril's after a miscommunication caused her chauffeur to leave her at the Beauforts's Manor. It was there she ran into Mortimer Beaufort, and obviously, the interaction had turned sour. 
Y/N would agree now that she probably shouldn't have said what she said, especially to the man before her. However, she would definitely say That she didn't believe she deserved the slap she received. It didn't matter what she did or didn't say. She could have said worse and silently thanked herself for not doing so. 
“You don't have the right to speak to me in such a way.” Mortimer scowled. She opened her mouth to retort back, but was immediately pulled away by Percy. 
Percy guided her towards the car, her body shivering as the shock dissipated and her body filled with adrenaline. After helping her into the car, he sent a quick message to James. 
Your father struck Y/N- P
Y/N sat silently the entire ride to Cyril's house. She normally made polite talk with Percy, with or without James in the car, but at the moment, she was too upset. Mostly at herself, for not having the self restraint to stop herself from saying what she did. But she was also upset at Mortimer himself, for thinking he could treat people in such a way that he has been. 
But that's the rich for you. They treat people however they feel like it. 
She looked out the window, her eyes watching as the trees and building passed. Percy had looked back at her through the rearview mirror. He took notice of the red welt on her face where Mortimer had hit her. Percy knew James had seen his message, but the Beaufort twin never responded. Taking in a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, he was already preparing himself for a very angry James. 
Time had gone by quickly in the car. Y/N blinked as they pulled up to Cyril’s home, her eyes finding James out in the front, already waiting for them. She looked into the front seat, noticing Percy already looking at her. Letting out a quick sigh, she prepared herself as James came over, not waiting for Percy to open the door for her. 
“Y/N-”
“I’m fine.” There was no hiding the red welt on her face. It stayed, even after the drive from the Beaufort Manor to Cyril’s home. His eyes made quick work of finding it. He sucked in a breath. When Percy texted him to let him know what had happened, he had hoped that it was some sick joke, but the bad part about it all? James believed that his father would do such a thing before he even saw the mark on her face. 
“How is that fine? My father-” He stopped. Y/N knew he was stewing in anger. His weren’t the only thing that gave away his current round up of emotions. He kept clenching his fists and running his hands through his hair. Amongst being angry at his father, he was upset and frustrated. Upset that he hadn’t been there to protect her. Frustrated with his life. “I ought to-” 
“No. James. Going back there and confronting him is going to fix things. It’s better that he thinks that you don’t know.” Her hands weaved into his own, preventing him from clenching his fists. I shouldn’t even have said what I did.” 
“Doesn’t mean that you deserved to be struck in the way that you did!” James argued. 
“I asked for it.” 
“Y/N.” The two stood still, staring at each other. They were silent for several moments. Y/N had pulled her hands away from his, picking at her fingers in anxiousness. He grabbed them back, stopping her from doing so. They were drowning in silence.
  “What did you say to him that got his panties in a twist?” He asked finally. Y/N looked up at him, before walking past him and sitting on the front steps of the house. He followed behind her, the two of them watching as Percy parked the car away from the front. Percy would be there still when they needed him. 
“Told him that a father wouldn’t treat his kids in such a way that he does with you and Lydia. That he was a monster.” She mumbled softly. James looked over at her. She currently had her head bowed, hair covering her face. Y/N had defended him and his sister. The woman he loved stood up for him and Lydia when almost no one else would. His heart beat for the selfless soul sitting next to him. 
James wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him. 
“You don’t have to defend me and Lydia.” Y/N turned her head abruptly to look at him. 
“But-” 
“I appreciate what you did. No one ever stands up to my father.” James finished her sentence for her. “I appreciate you, Y/N.” His hands grasped her cheeks. “But please, don’t do anything like that again. Not if the price is you getting punished for it.” Y/N blinked a few times, having no choice but to stare James in his face. She finally nodded. "I can't bear the knowledge of you getting hurt."
“Okay.” She mumbled softly. 
“Promise?” He asked, peering into her eyes.
“Promise.” James pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
“Good. Now I’m going to text my parents and tell them I’m staying the night at Cyril’s, and then we are going back to your place.” James’ voice was authoritative. There was no room for debate. But when the end of the night finally came, and James and Y/N were at her own home, in her own bed, she didn’t mind it. With James holding her against him, murmuring soft words of endearment into her ears, she didn’t want anything else. 
And as she fell asleep, feeling James press a soft kiss to the crown of her head, she knew one thing. 
Even if she did make a promise to James, she would always stick up for him and Lydia, no matter what.
She just wished that she had done it more often in the past few years that she has been in their lives.
-----
@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl
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saintobio · 2 days
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i can’t believe i caught the ask box open 🥹 first off, miss saint, sy11 had me on my knees gasping for air i kid you not. your writing is truly incredible, and i will say time and time again that you are genuinely one of a kind!
okay okay. time for theories yayay! i know heaps of people have said this already, but my delusional ass self would love to believe that satoru rly did chase after akemi only to let her down. or to hit her with the “my heart belongs to yn. it always has” line. i feel like yn might’ve encouraged him to run after akemi, since yn must’ve also felt guilty since she played a role in gojo cheating on akemi (+ she was put in a similar position so she would know how it feels). since we have four more chapters to go (minus the epilogue), i feel like yn would likely distance herself from gojo, purely bc she feels horrible and didn’t wanna do akemi like that. it was just something done in the moment. i also feel as if the miscommunication trope will still move forward, despite yn and gojo pouring their hearts out to each other at the lake :’)
i have a gut feeling that momjo is likely going to make an appearance back and cause havoc again. maybe we’ll see some parallels between momjo and eula, or momjo and dadjo (who knows). but most likely she’ll plant seeds of doubt in satorus mind by implying things like how yn might only be using gojo as a rebound to ‘get over toji’ (even though we all know the complete opposite 😭).
kinda hoping for some sachi and yn moments bc the angst is too good to be true 🤌 kinda miss their interactions i can’t lie :( sometime tells me that towards the end or during the epilogue of sy, they’re gonna have another kid again (sachiko 🥺) purely bc they did it w/o protection lmao (im going insane)
anyways, i wish i could come up with the brilliant theories that some other readers can come up with (i lack the creativity to) but once again, from the very bottom of my heart, thank you so much for once again releasing another beautifully written chapter. pls don’t mind my rambling hahah. ilysm saint <3
no no, your theories were great and i believe many woudl agree !! so thank you for sharing them and for reading sy <33 i appreciate ur kind words
momjo will be definitely back for a bit, and like i said, gen and yn’s side of the family would make an appearance too. i think you guys already have a hunch as to why :)))
as for sachi, there’s a reason why he’s not in these episodes as much. but munchkin will be back soon!!
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70slesbian · 29 days
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”united by music (unless you’re palestinian)” great thank you eurovision and malmö and sweden for showing us where you stand
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bylertruther · 2 years
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do you ever think about the fact that throughout the entirety of stranger things we’ve always seen mike practically shout his love for will from the rooftops by throwing his everything into believing, protecting, and helping will no matter the stakes, and how a majority of byler moments are initiated by him, and how will has always loved him back quietly despite being the one canonically confirmed to be in love, and how will is almost always on the viewer’s right in iconic byler moments but in season four we find him on the left in what used to be mike’s spot because their “roles” have switched AND when we’re taken out of the viewer’s pov and put in jonathan’s pov we see jonathan Come To A Realization here because while mike has always made it clear how special will is to him and how different their relationship is, will has always managed to keep the true depth of his feelings a little closer to his chest and it’s only when he publicly takes up that support role that mike has played for him previously that the audience is purposely made to realize, too, how romantic it truly is, because coming from mike everyone might have thought it was his usual overzealous theatrics but when the same tenderness and earnest love comes from will they realize oh. this is... this is actually something more. this is how they are this is mike and will like nothing has changed and no time has passed but it’s now that we realize just what it is, and now that will is starting to slowly but surely come out from this curtain he’s hid behind his whole life and voice that yes he loves mike of course he does he’s always loved him and loves him in precisely the way that mike expresses he needs to be loved there is simply NO conceivable way that they can come out of this hellish slow burn miscommunication trope not in full acknowledgement and eager acceptance of this love they have for each other and have always had and always will !!!!!!!!
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#byler#like. do i make sense. am i making sense.#tagging my posts is so scary now tht there's 92380923028020 of us bt. i can be brave ig .. [trembling in my boots] [sweating shaking crying]#s1-2 was mike loving will more than anyone and not being afraid to show it and s3 was him thinking he had to grow up n out of tht love#bc clearly it's just a kid thing and they'll get over it if they just get girlfriends#and it ended with him having his italicized 'oh.' moment as the byers drove away#and s4 was mike thinking he had lost will for good that time only for will to show him that he's wrong he never lost him and he won't#s4 was about will showing mike that he's always loved him back s4 was abt will showing mike what it means to be in love with someone#s4 was abt will showing him tht he's just as lost without him as mike is without him and tht he doesn't need to be normal or cool#he's absolutely perfect just the way he is and he's loved and needed for who he is not all that he can or can't do#s4 was mike stumbling and will catching him and carrying him the same way that mike carried him in s2#and s5 will be about them supporting each other and living their complete and total truths now that they see there's no reason to hide#and then in s5 we will finally find our way out of this god awful miscommunication trope</3#they're a team they're best friends mike needs will and mike is will's heart mike makes will feel better for being different and will shows#mike that he doesn't need to conform and be 'normal' to be worthy of love that he has no obligations to others that everything he is is what#encourages those around him to fight the good fight#and that support and love and the way that they'll come to see each other wholly and truly is what will defeat all evil <3#it's all coming full circle is wht im saying !!!!!#mine#also when i say audience and we i mean the general audience bc i kno my brothers in byler Understand n Watch The Show With Their Eyes#<3#also no i will not structure my posts in a way tht makes sense u will read my uninterrupted stream of consciousness and WEEP
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skunkg1rll · 5 months
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#i havent been wanting to get out of bed in the morning at all lately :((#i just dont want to :((#today i should be going to the gym w my mom nd then stop by the store nd library#tmrw i have to go to school#but omg i rllyyyyy dont want to i wanna cry#i feel like skipping it today even if then i dont get the book i wanna read bc they'll send it back today#plus there r some things i'd like to get at the store. but ugh i just wanna stay in bed and stay in my room#and i had an unpleasant dream of my school years :/#i dream of that and my class all the time and it fills me w such anxiety :(#stuff like that. that anxiety most ppl fill me w. reminds me how badly i only want to be w him#but maybe it's ruined now. bc of miscommunication.... i havent even dared checking the app#bc im sooooooo scared to open it and be met w the unread sign. that he hasnt even seen my messages#that'll hurt me so much so i just dont even open the app. now i have no idea if he's seen it or not nd thats all i can deal with atm#it makes me so sad tho bc if he rlly wanted to he could have me. and i have such a big heart w sm love to give to someone :((((#he's like the one person i've met who fills me w calm instead of that anxiety#which is somewhat funny to say bc he also makes me so sad sometimes :(( nd frustrated#but ohhh even now all i can think abt is being w him nd having a future. even if idk if nd when we'll even simply talk again skskksksk#sighhhhhh i was so happy to have talked to him almost every day the past week... i have things i wanna share w him constantly!!!!! but then#i ofc made a mistake w i always do. i just wish ppl could come to me nd talk abt it instead of just getting upset and pulling away :((
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carryonmylovelies · 2 years
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omg hey hotties 😭😭 im back !
#sooooooooooooo anyways not me dropping off the face of the earth for like the entire summer vwkqmqjdhsowjwjwjenkwhwk#just had to die for a little bit u know....disappear into the abyss and all that#pls look away from all the shit im abt to throw into these tags 😁 unless u want 2 read my cringe oversharing essay for the day 👍#my summer was so silly 😍 ummmmm lets see i lost my fulltime job at the daycare bc the owner very rightfully decided to retire and close#so i was unemployed for the whole summer except for my occasional side jobs and also had to move bc of family shit#so im living w my grandma for the time being and its utterly amazing tbh my grandma and i have a really strong bond and relationship#and i really love getting to come home and see her every day. i decorated her house for halloween a week ago 🎃🎃🎃#and she couldnt stop talking abt how nice everything looked and how glad she was to have me there and i just abt broke down 😭😭😭#i did a complete fucking 180 jobwise im actually training to be a certified fire alarm inspector now LMFAO#i really really like it so far and have like a million stories already abt all the shit ive done/seen so far#im the only girl looking son of a bitch thats working and training in the field out of my entire region of the company so 🤪#literally shoved my dykey nb ass in there and now im fucking it up with the boys heyoooooo#ummm me and one of my best friends started dating bc of a miscommunication (BC OFC WE DID I KNOW I KNOW ITS SO MF GAY)#and our 4 mo anniversary will be on halloween which i think is the swaggiest fag shit in the whole WORLLLDDDDDDDD 😫🎃🖤🧡#my very beloved pet rabbit of over 8 years died quite unexpectedly in august and i was. doing pretty bad for awhile which sucked so so hard#he had multiple health issues and was over 10 yrs old so its hard to say what exactly happened. my gf and gma both pulled me thru that shit#and my besties gave me so much support and love idek what i would have done w/o them. i miss my baby so bad.#ive also had some health issues which sucks absolute BALLS#and recently figured out that the migraine/anti depressant meds ive been on for the last THREE MF YEARS have been fucking up my body lmao#but on the flipside going back 2 the positives i got to have some really incredible experiences/interactions in the past few months#and those were really huge in helping me get my shit together again#i got to take my girlboygirlfriend on little daytrips throughout the summer. i got a second tat🕷🕸❣️ (which my gf designed 😫)#i met girl queen pussy slay miss felicia day AND met the sexiest creature alive harvey guillen and he told me he liked my hair#which im still super duper normal over i can assure u 😁👍 definitely didnt alter my brain chemistry or anything#i saw gods greatest and most valuable gift to this planet on monday (mcr concert)#and had my entire mind body heart and soul so thouroughly fucked up that im still peeing my goddamn pants over it#and of course now its october :) my rotting flesh and sickened brain knows peace once more#bouta go eat up some drawtober posts right the fuck now so prepare yourselves 👁👁 also gonna be making a post on the coc blog soon as well#its already that time of year again mwhahahahahahahahahaha#so yeah 😋 my summer was goofy and silly as hell. i hope u all have been doing okay and im so happy 2 be back pls hmu if u wanna chat !!!
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sttoru · 4 months
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.
wc. 1.2k
tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.
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“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.
you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.
the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.
“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.
he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.
. . he still very much is.
“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.
that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.
a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.
and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.
“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”
thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.
‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.
but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.
you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.
you know and yet you’re patient.
“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.
sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.
you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.
“come back here, woman.”
sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
is he. . . upset?
“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”
sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.
the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.
love is complicated.
“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”
silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.
you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.
“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”
“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”
your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.
his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.
sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.
especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.
“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.
sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”
that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.
those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.
“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”
he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.
that’s also something that brings you comfort.
you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BURNER ACCOUNTS — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fem! reader, loser ex-boyfriend! satoru, exes to lovers, college! au, satoru making burners to watch your stories, miscommunications—satoru is not perfect but he’s trying okay?, gossip icons shoko & suguru <3, i had a silly idea and it turned into 2.6k words my bad
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there’s a peculiar account watching your instagram stories—@user273582838, to be exact. you don’t think it’s a very well timed coincidence seeing as you and satoru have just broken up—so you decide to do some digging. 
which of course, means enlisting the help of shoko.
“i think satoru is stalking me,” you mumble, making her pause in the middle of sipping on her energy drink—for a med student, her habits don’t seem every healthy. this is her third one of the day.
“okay,” she nods, “i wouldn’t put it past him, but what makes you say that?”
“look,” you turn your phone to face her, the blank, anonymous instagram account right there on the list of users who have viewed your story. she crinkles her brows, blinking for a moment before humming.
“that definitely seems like something he’d do,” she nods—and then, “i have an idea.”
“okay,” you brighten, nodding enthusiastically, “what’s the plan?”
“try and log in with that user.”
“shoko,” you look at her like she’s grown two heads. maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to her—no amount of energy drinks can save her at this point. “we don’t have the password—”
“—and that, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, making you scowl at the name, “is why we click forgot my password and see the last four digits of the phone number that registered the account. if it’s satoru’s number, we’ll know.”
okay—you take it back. shoko is a genius and a full-blown brilliant mastermind that you could never hope to come close to. you’re glad you chose her to help—you’re even more glad she agreed because you would not have thought of that. this is fantastic. a fool-proof plan. 
you grin wide, eyes lighting up as you gasp, “shoko! you’re so smart, that’s a great idea!”
“i know,” she grumbles, “took you long enough to notice.”
ignoring her, you quickly pull out your phone and try to log onto the account, typing user273582838 into the username box and clicking forgot my password. shoko is hovering over your shoulder, and your breath is held as you wait for the page to load and the number to pop up. within just a few seconds, the first few digits are censored with asterisks, but the last four show, and—
yeah. it’s satoru’s fucking number. just as you suspected—you and shoko scoff together at the same time, rolling your eyes. 
“well,” you look at her, lips pursed in irritation—of course, satoru refuses to give you space and leave you alone after your break up (which was his fault, might you add), “what now?”
“send the verification code to his number,” she presses, “it’ll definitely spook him when he sees.”
she’s so good at what she does, you think in awe, staring at her with heart-eyes. nodding quickly, you press send code. 
hopefully, that’ll give satoru the heart attack you want it to.
———
satoru stares at his screen in abject horror—who could be trying to log into his burner account? the only person who should possibly stumble across it is you, but surely you’re not closely inspecting your story viewers, are you? so then, who could be trying to log onto the instagram account of @user273582838?
“suguru,” he says in a trance, “are you trying to log onto the burner?”
“are you bringing that shit up again?” suguru grumbles, controller in hand as he pays attention to the screen, “i told you that was a stupid idea. a pathetic one too—”
“well, i didn’t want to keep waiting for you to send screenshots to see the stories—”
“you’re a fucking loser, do you know that? pathetic,” suguru reiterates. “move on.”
“no,” satoru hisses in disbelief, “why would i do that? now, was that you or not? you’re the only other person who knows the user.”
“as if i care to log onto your loser burner account,” suguru snorts, shaking his head in amusement. he beats satoru’s high score, turning to give him a sly grin as he adds, “i wasn’t removed, so i can view the stories all i want.”
“you’re a jerk, you know that?” satoru grunts, crossing his arms and pouting, “i’m having the worst heartbreak of my life, and you—”
“who’s fault is it that you’re dumped?”
satoru deflates. 
okay, so he supposedly hasn’t been the best boyfriend. it’s not that satoru isn’t helplessly committed to you—he’s so sickeningly obsessed with you, it’s actually a bit unhealthy. suguru says so, at least. but satoru is…well, satoru, and he doesn’t always seem to take things as seriously as most people would hope. 
evidently, that includes your relationship—though, he does insist on disagreeing on that. according to you, he doesn’t take you on dates often enough, and sometimes he flirts back with random strangers. that’s not true—he’s simply a bit of a tease and enjoys it when you’re jealous, but he doesn’t flirt back. that’s outrageous. you’ve even claimed he’s mean about it and makes a joke out of it all—satoru would never be mean on purpose; he only teases because the banter is always endearing. 
but, unfortunately, you don’t seem to see it the way he does, and now he’s woefully single and cold and alone in bed. no cuddles, no goodnight kisses, and no head scratches. 
life is so cruel sometimes. 
“suguru,” he says in distress, “i’m serious. someone’s trying to hack my burner—who could it be?”
“hmm, i don’t know…maybe the one and only person who would notice the account in the first place?”
“but why try and log in if the password is unknown?”
suguru looks at satoru like he’s stupid—apparently, he is because he’s not putting two and two together. 
“maybe because sending a verification code shows the last four digits of the registered phone number? you’ve probably been caught, you idiot.”
satoru pales at that—he didn’t think about that. it slipped his mind completely. fuck, he should’ve used a burner email instead. he stares down at his phone numbly—yeah, he thinks, he’s screwed. 
———
after two days of continuous log in attempts into satoru’s burner account—it’s only just to spook him extra—you finally decide to confront him. 
we need to talk. is all you send him. 
the three bubbles appear on his end multiple times before disappearing—you and shoko get a good cackle out of that and laugh at him for a bit before he finally answers. 
miss me already? knew it ;)
wow. what a dickhead. 
so, because you can be equally as much of a prick, you send him a screenshot of his phone number on the log in page followed by a message that says: no. it’s so you can explain this. 
the three dots show up again for a few minutes before he finally responds with: okay. you caught me. when do you wanna meet?
well, that was easy. satoru is the type to not go down without a fight no matter how cornered he is—he’s stubborn and annoying like that. you turn to shoko for help.
“meet him now,” shoko crosses her arms, “don’t give him time to come up with some ridiculous excuse.”
“what excuse could he possibly come up with?” you snort, “that he was possessed and the evil spirit in his mind made him stalk his ex like a loser?”
“true,” she concedes, taking a sip from her energy drink—seriously, how many of these does this girl drink in a day? “i just want to know what happens,” she shrugs, “so do it now.”
of course, as on brand as ever, shoko is merely in it for the drama. you roll your eyes before sighing and nodding. 
“okay,” you huff. 
meet me at my place. now.
on my way, he sends back almost instantly. 
“he’s probably just excited to see you,” shoko snorts, “like the loser he is.”
“you’re probably right,” you purse your lips in exasperation. in all your time knowing him, you’ve definitely realized that satoru is definitely…well, a case. 
———
“hey,” shoko whispers to suguru through the phone, walking out your door so you can prepare to confront satoru. “did you know satoru’s been stalking—”
“—on a burner account? yeah, i know.”
okay, she frowns to herself, that was no fun at all. suguru is already aware of the drama. but that’s no matter—surely, he can’t possibly already know that satoru has been invited over to be scolded. 
“yeah, well,” she says smugly, “did you know he’s actually on his way over to—”
“—get yelled at? yeah, i’m aware. he called me panicked. what a fucking loser.”
“okay, well since you’re up to speed,” shoko grumbles bitterly, rolling her eyes. she was supposed to be the knight in shining armor with the juicy updates—but evidently, satoru is pathetic enough to already cry to suguru about his dilemma. “wanna meet up and get sushi nearby? i bet they’ll get back together in twenty minutes.”
“i bet ten. loser pays for the food?”
“you’ve got yourself a deal.”
———
satoru sits on your couch in shame, bouncing his leg nervously as you sit on the opposite end with your arms crossed and brow raised. 
it’s quiet. he doesn’t have the guts to say anything, waiting for you to break the silence. maybe you’re not that mad.
“so,” you start, “it’s nice to finally meet you, user273582838.”
he rubs his neck awkwardly, chuckling through his nerves as he mumbles, “oh, hey there! it’s a small world, huh?”
“satoru.”
yeah, never mind. you seem pretty mad. 
“okay, look,” he begins, “you can’t blame me. you dumped me, your sweet, loving, and unsuspecting boyfriend out of nowhere! i was heartbroken and shattered—and then you didn’t even give me a chance to work it out! i was not in the right headspace to make wise decisions so…so this is basically not my fault.”
that doesn’t seem to help his case—in fact, it only makes it worse. 
“so it’s my fault?”
“wha—no!” he says quickly, “no, definitely not.”
you sigh, rubbing your forehead in defeat as you mumble, “satoru, we are broken up for a reason. you can’t overstep and—”
“it’s a pretty stupid reason,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and frowning. you glare at him from the side as you scoff in disbelief. 
“of course,” you chuckle dryly, “of course you would say that. nothing is ever serious enough to you—”
“it’s pretty fucking serious to me,” he spits, shooting you a look that tells you he’s just as shocked as you, “that’s obviously why i’m the one who’s still not moved on as easily as you. how seriously did you really take it?”
“that’s not fair,” you grit, “you made it abundantly clear you didn’t care enough, so why should i—”
“i fucking cared a shit ton,” he says incredulously, “that’s bullshit, and you know it—”
“don’t curse at me, satoru—”
“well, don’t accuse me of not caring when i clearly—”
“oh, yeah cause you cared so much when you were laughing with that waitress as she hit on you,” you seethe, throwing a pillow from your couch at him. he can catch it easily—you know this for sure, but he lets it hit him out of what you’re sure is at least a little consideration to your feelings. 
“i wasn’t laughing because i enjoyed it,” he crinkles his brows as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing ever, “it was just funny because she was trying so hard. and you looked all cute when you got mad.”
“what kind of boyfriend enjoys watching his girlfriend get mad—”
“the kind of boyfriend who thinks his girlfriend is adorable when she’s mad—”
“yeah, well your idea of a date is going to the mall with shoko and suguru. what kind of date is that—”
“okay, i was a bit clueless sometimes, but you could’ve said something instead of just dumping me like i was some random guy in your dm’s—”
“you need to grow the fuck up, satoru—”
“now look at who's cursing!”
it’s silent—both you and him have your arms crossed and lips curled into scowls as you both glare at each other. you’re stubbornly convinced satoru doesn’t care as much as you do, and he’s firmly committed to the idea that you’re twisting him into some douche who doesn’t give two shits. 
it’s quiet like that for a bit before he deflates and slumps against the couch, rubbing his face as he groans. 
“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry. i never meant to make it seem like i enjoy attention from other girls, and i didn’t realize you wanted more dates. i’d have done things differently if you told me how you felt.”
he sounds sincere. and he’s looking at you with those eyes of his—god, those stupid little eyes that are so wide and blue and deep and full of love. even after that whole argument, satoru is clearly as painfully in love as ever. 
you sigh before playing with a loose thread on your sweatpants. 
“i…guess i could’ve talked it out first. i probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to breaking up,” you mutter, not meeting his eyes. 
satoru stares glumly at you from the corner of his eyes before he adds bitterly, “you don’t seem to miss me. not even a little.”
“toru,” you pinch your nose, “of course i miss you. i was not gonna be mopey on instagram, though—”
“doesn’t seem like it,” he huffs. he’s a bit hurt—you can tell because he’s not meeting your eyes, and he’s not got that playful little upward curl of his lips. 
you’re a bit weak, you realize—but you suppose you always have been for satoru, because you’re shuffling to his end of the couch and poking his cheek gently. 
“i miss you tons, y’know,” you murmur—you smile a little at his pout before adding, “i want more dates this time around. and stop letting girls get away with being shameless flirts.”
he finally meets your eyes—it’s like a child on christmas, the way his face lights up and his lips curl into an excited grin.
“you mean i get to be your boyfriend again?”
it’s cute—the way he asks to be your boyfriend and not if you’ll be his girlfriend. maybe you’ve been a bit unfair, maybe satoru has always cared deeply in his dumb little clueless way of his own. 
“fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes. he looks hopelessly excited as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, tucking you under his chin as he rests his cheek on your head. 
“you should really talk to me more,” he murmurs, “i’m…things fly over my head sometimes. i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry too,” you admit, “i’ll talk to you—but you better listen to me if i do. don’t turn it into jokes.”
“i never turn things into jokes,” he grumbles petulantly, huffing to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed raise of your brow. “does this mean i can follow you again?”
“yes,” you snort.
“and you’ll follow back, right?”
“yes, satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head in amusement. he’s already back to being a handful—but you can admit you might have missed it just a bit. “but for the love of god, please delete that burner.”
“fine,” he pouts, tugging you closer. 
you giggle, he grins, and then you’re kissing—and everything feels as it should be. 
———
“they’re back together,” shoko says in disbelief, staring at your text. suguru groans, pausing mid bite as he rubs over his forehead in defeat. 
of course, you and satoru just have to make up in exactly fifteen minutes. not ten. not twenty. exactly fifteen. 
how considerate of you both. 
“are you kidding?” suguru grumbles, “so neither of us win.”
“guess not,” she says sourly, rolling her eyes. 
woefully, they both agree to split the check. 
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suguru and shoko are so me and my friend every time our other friend argues with her boyfriend we deadass be making bets over when they make up and loser has to pay for boba LMAO
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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." 
_
_
_
12K notes · View notes
charlieeenby · 2 months
Text
meeting robin
the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years
warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence
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“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”
Instead of responding, Batman grunted.
“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”
Another grunt from Batman.
“Batman?”
“I don’t.”
“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.
“It’s not mine.”
Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”
“Robin’s.”
Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”
Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.
“Come on, man!”
Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.
“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.
“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”
“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.
“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.
“We got that. Why is he here?”
Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.
“Help?”
This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”
“Who’s B?”
Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”
“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.
“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.
“I see. Is he alright?”
“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.
“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”
Batman grunted.
“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.
“Nothing.”
“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”
“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.
“Huh?” Barry said, confused.
“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.
“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.
Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.
The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.
For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.
Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.
“Hello. My name is Diana.”
“H-hi.”
“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.
“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.
“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.
“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”
“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.
“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”
“Four, actually.”
“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.
They got a grunt in response.
Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”
Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”
“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.
“There’s nothing to explain.”
A grunt.
“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.
“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.
Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.
“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.
“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.
“Tell that to Agent A.”
Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.
“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.
She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”
Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.
“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.
“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.
“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”
“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.
Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.
“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.
“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.
“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.
“Yes.”
“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”
Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”
“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.
Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.
“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”
Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.
“Hey, Supes!”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.
“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”
Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.
He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.
“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”
He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?
“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.
“We’re still working on that.”
Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”
The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”
Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”
Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”
Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”
At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.
“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”
“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.
Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”
A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.
“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.
Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.
“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”
“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”
“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.
“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.
As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”
Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.
Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.
“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.
Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”
Clark stopped. “Huh?”
“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.
“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”
Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”
Batman sighed at that.
“Did he really?” Clark asked.
“Yes. But he’s fine now.”
“Am I?”
Batman groaned.
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5sospenguinqueen · 29 days
Text
Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader
Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.
Main Masterlist
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Feb
YourUserName just posted
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liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others
YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'
12,326 comments
User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album
User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely
User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it
→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real
→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it
francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?
→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired
User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt
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2 months before
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May
redbullracing just posted
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liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet
7,445 comments
User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill
User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull
User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career
User 10 that should’ve been Y/N
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June
YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others
YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'
10,102 comments
User 11 not max liking despite not even following
victoriaverstappen so talented
liked by maxverstappen1
→ YourUserName thank you, vic x
→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main
alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears
→ YourUserName doofus
→ lilymhe can confirm
User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad
kellypiquet just posted
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liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others
kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1
4,387 comments
User 13 so pretty
User 14 goals
User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials
→ User 16 delusional
→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him
→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...
→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post
→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium
YourUserName posted a new story
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Hi, guys. This part of the Baby Fever Angst series, which will include smaus for other drivers.
Daniel’s Version | Lando’s Version | Lance’s Version
Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version
I have part 2 planned if people want it but also happy to leave it like this if people don't want them to have redemption haha
Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)
@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
Text
😾Really Nice Guy Who Hates Only You
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Celebrity!Reader Genre: Fluff/Miscommunication/Humor/SMAU Summary: Oscar was known to be the epitome of a polite cat. His reputation is that he is genuinely nice to everyone. Well, everyone except for you.
*once again, I have loved writing for this series and it seems like everyone loves these chapters (as they have the highest notes out of all of them). I'm really excited for what is to come! I have loved making all the special tweets and other additions to the posts!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Oscar had been in a bad mood. The garage could practically feel the cloud that surrounded the Aussie as he walked through the garage on Saturday morning for the sprint. The scrunch of the nose and the constant side eyes also gave it away. 
Normally, Oscar tends to be more on the quiet side. But today, he was even quieter. Gone was the polite cat, and it was replaced by a very grumpy feline. 
“Hey Oscar! Come meet our guests!” 
Oscar let out a sigh as he turned around and put a very fake smile on his face. This is the moment he had been dreading ever since you stepped into the garage. He did, or couldn’t, understand why you were wearing his number on the back of the jersey you wore. 
It disgusted him. 
You were very pretty though, he had eyes. Your hair went very well with the papaya orang and your smile could pretty much kill a man in a 10-foot radius. Except that right now, Oscar wanted your perfect hair to catch on fire and he’d avoid the smile. 
When he finally got closer, he stopped a few feet in front of you, not wanting to get too close. Two hands clapped him on the shoulders as Lando started to shake him. 
“So Os-cah, this is Y/n L/n, 2-time Grammy Award winner and probably the prettiest guest we’ve ever had.” 
All right, so Lando was a gonner.
Oscar fought the urge to roll his eyes right into the back of his head so he wouldn’t have to look at you anymore. But your smile was oh-so pretty. You looked at him with wide eyes as you held out your hand for a shake. 
However, Oscar just looked at it, then looked at you. 
“Welcome.”
Lando reeled back, confused at his younger teammate’s coldness. The two watched as your smile faltered just a bit. (If Oscar had any remorse, he didn’t show it.) You were quick to recover and spread another smile, even if this one wasn’t as real as the first. 
You put your hand down as you greeted, “It’s such an honor to finally meet you! I’ve been a fan for what feels like forever.” 
Oscar grunted. “Can’t say the same.” 
You absolutely wanted to whimper. You had been waiting to be invited to a Formula 1 garage ever since you won your first Grammy. And well, you had other offers from Red Bull or Ferrari, but the McLaren garage is the one you wanted to be your first. So, you had declined and declined until you knew that you could meet the driver that you had been following for so long. 
But now that you finally met him, you wondered why he was such an asshole. 
You pushed down your feelings and continued. “That’s ok. My music isn’t for everyone. But I wanted to congratulate you on your rookie season last year!” 
“Thanks.” 
Ok, Lando knew something was up and he couldn’t take the hurt-puppy-eyes coming from you anymore. The Briton was about to say something, but Zak had decided to interrupt with another celebrity guest. 
“Guys, this is Sabrina, she’s also joining Miss L/n in the garage today. Ladies, we have two headsets for you in the back when we’ll go over some last minute car things if you’d like to listen in!” Zak explained. 
It only hurt when Oscar eyes lit up at your fellow musician, brushing past you to personally introduce himself. Lando was now left with a very sad Grammy winner on his hands. He gently put his arm around your waist to bring you to the side.
When a long sigh escaped your lips, Lando felt awful. 
“Y/n, I swear he’s normally the nicest person on the planet. Oscar always seems to love everyone, no matter the guest.” 
Your eyes flitted over to where Oscar was now animatedly talking to Sabrina about her new album. You let out a scoff. 
“Yeah, everyone but me. Maybe I should have just taken the offer from Red Bull or Ferrari.” 
Lando pouted. He knew that you had been a fan of Oscar’s way back to the start of his F2 season. And then you had purposefully put the word McLaren in many different songs. Hell, your newest album titled “Momentum” was basically a love letter to your beloved team. You even had plans to become an investor once you could make the first payment. 
The Briton felt lost. “I was going to find Max and Charles if you’d like to join me?” 
You took one more look at Oscar, not surprised to see him glare at you from the side. That action made up your mind and you agreed to go with Lando. 
Taking with Max and Charles was like a breath of fresh air. The two were great conversationalists and pretty funny. The Monegasque even invited you into one of the media buildings to look at the behind the scenes, which put you in awe. 
The two rivals, thought, couldn’t understand why you were attached to Lando when you had a giant 81 on the back of your jersey. 
“Have you met Oscar yet?” Charles asked. When you tensed, he knew that he had asked a wrong question. Your expression quickly became sad. 
“Yeah. But I don’t think he likes me very much,” you muttered. 
Max scoffed. “That’s absurd. He’s quiet, but he’s nice to everyone.” 
Lando winced. “But for some reason, he was being really rude and just standoff-ish.”  
You looked so dejected. “At first I thought he might not be a fan of my music, but then he was super smiley with Sabrina and we co-wrote most of mine and her songs. So it’s not the genre.” 
The Briton wanted to try to bring your spirits back up, but he noticed the time and said that you and him had to be back at the garage. You said your goodbyes to the Dutchman and Monegasque before you followed Lando back to the garage. 
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On your way in, Oscar sent you yet another glare as he got ready to be in the car. 
Although he had been mean, you still said, “Good luck.” 
Maybe he heard you or didn’t, but he never responded or acted like he took it to heart. 
When Oscar was able to overtake multiple cars and finish the sprint in P2, you were ecstatic. His terrible attitude did not hinder your joy for the Aussie. You didn’t secretly call yourself the #1-Piastri fan for nothing. Sabrina laughed next to you as you hopped up and down, glad that your driver finished well in the points. 
It was sad for Lando who didn’t make it past P5, but the Briton explained that qualifying for the actual race is when it truly counted. 
You watched with stars in your eyes as Oscar walked up after Charles to be interviewed by Jensen Button. 
The former driver asked the first question. 
“Oscar, first congrats on the P2, you did a lot of overtaking. Was that in the strategy?” 
The Aussie laughed, really showing that he indeed was polite to everyone. 
“Well the strategy is always to win, but we were close with all the upgrades. It’s been good and I’m ready for the races to come.” 
A few more questions were asked and exchanged before Jensen somehow brought you up. 
“So we saw that Y/n L/n and Sabrina Carpenter were both in the McLaren garage. And we all know that Y/n is a massive McLaren fan as well as your fan. Have you listen to any of her songs?”
Many people definitely saw the change in facial expression when your name was brought up. The smiley Oscar was replaced with a bored one. 
“Well, I don’t really listen to artists who bash or make fun of my driving.” 
Jensen gave me a very curious look. “She actually praises you in most of her songs.” 
The Aussie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like the one where she said she crashed her McLaren like Piastri.” 
Your eyes widened, along with everyone else in the garage. Those were definitely not the lyrics to one of your songs. Lando also had wide eyes and he was looking right at you, who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. 
“I would never do that,” you said, looking into Lando’s hazel eyes. The Briton looked puzzled. He had specifically played or sung songs for the Aussie that mentioned McLaren or Oscar. 
You kind of just sank into the background, trying to process what could have gone wrong. Lando on the other hand raced to catch Oscar as he was walking into the garage.
“Mate, what are you doing?” Oscar asked as Lando was directing him to one of the driver rooms. Lando slammed the door and turned to Oscar. 
“What are the lyrics to Y/n’s song?” 
There was another eye roll. “Lando you sung them to me like two weeks ago.” 
Land shook his head. “But tell me.” 
Oscar huffed, “Small talk, big love. Act like you don’t care but I disagree. When I crashed my McLaren like Piastri.” 
“Stop!” 
The Aussie cocked his head. 
Lando continued, “Those aren’t the lyrics you muppet. It’s ‘When I crashed my McLaren like past me.’ A few years ago, Y/n used to wreck a lot of cars at a teen. She got better and decided to buy a McLaren when your seat was announced for 2023. And then she crashed it on accident after she got broken up with.” 
A look of realization washed over Oscar’s face and then a look of dread. A giant sigh left his lips. Lando thought he was going to pass out or something but the second Papaya driver quickly ran out of the room. He stopped short of where you had sat in the back of the garage and quietly started to step closer. 
Your head was in your hands but you looked up when you heard footsteps. You were shocked to be looking at Oscar, who had a guilty look on his face. You shot up out of your seat and began to ramble. 
“Oscar, I swear, I would never back and diss you in any of my songs. You’re truly my favorite driver and I was so excited to meet you. I have put your name in my songs before, but it’s only been praise. I’m so sorry that you’ve been thinking that I’d make fun of your driving and-“ 
Oscar held out a hand to stop you. 
But now it was his turn to ramble, hands flying everywhere. 
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. I’ve been an utter asshole to you all day. That was horrible of me. Lando sung me the song a few weeks ago, but it was pretty mumbled because he couldn’t remember some of the words and I heard Piastri instead of past me and I just thought the worst and…” 
Lando was having a field day watching you watch Oscar with stars in your eyes as he apologized over and over again. 
The Briton pretended to dust his hands off as he watched Oscar pull out his phone and offer it to you. 
“Another day, another matchmaking completed.”  
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y/n_l/n has posted
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y/n_l/n thank you so much McLaren for the amazing day today! It was truly a dream come true to meet my all time favorite driver! little surprise for everyone else - Florida is yours (inspired by a special someone) 🧡
liked by mclaren, its_papaya, oscarpiastri, landoscar, and 3,205,195 others
queeny/n OH MY GOSH NEW SONG AFTER THE MIAMI RACE??
y/n&f1 wouldn't the song be written for Logan then?
y/nxoscar she said inspired - didn't mean that it's actually about him
oscah81 P2 SPRINT RACE AND POSSIBLE NEW WAG
landonorris I too would like a song pls
charles_leclerc we all know she wrote golden about me ♥️
maxverstappen1 I claim midnight rain then
landonorris ☹️
y/n_l/n it's ok lando - working on one now!
y/nsgrammy to think that Oscar thought she dissed him when she's like his biggest fan ever
oscargirlie y/n get's us with the second picture
oscarpiastri was the second picture necessary? and Florida? when did you have time to write that??
y/n_l/n 1. yes, it was very necessary, 2. I wrote it when you ignored me
oscarpiastri and you still wrote me a song?
y/n_l/n of course! most of my songs had you written in mind ☺️
oscarpiastri so. . . dress?
y/n_l/n 😳🤭
loscar-land your honor I love them
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
3K notes · View notes
foxy-eva · 1 month
Text
Date? Date!
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Summary: Reader asks Spencer if he wants a date (the food item). Miscommunication ensues. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: food mentions, miscommunication, awkwardness 
Word count: 700
Masterlist
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Early into your career at the FBI you learned how important it was to take good care of yourself. Long and irregular work hours made it difficult to nourish your body, so you made it a habit to always pack some healthy snacks.
Recently you discovered your love for dates - a fruit packed with fiber and potassium while satiating your sweet tooth. 
You grabbed a small container from your bag while your eyes landed on your favorite coworker. Months ago you noticed that his main source of energy was coffee and refined sugar, so without thinking too much about it, you decided to offer him an alternative. 
“Date?” You asked once Spencer found your eyes. 
“Wh…what?” He muttered. “You’re asking me… just like that?” 
His reaction was a little confusing but it wasn't the first time that the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid left you a bit puzzled. 
"Yeah, of course! I think it’ll be good for you!” You chirped to encourage him. 
“You think?” His mouth stayed agape after those words made it past his lips. 
You raised your eyebrows at him and withdrew your offer, “You obviously don’t have to. You can just say no.”
“No, no, it’s not that! I just.. I have never been… I mean… I have never really… had a date?” He muttered.
“Really? That's hard to believe.” You couldn't hide the surprised tone in your voice. Dates were pretty popular, you had never met anyone who hadn’t tried one.
“It’s true…,” he mumbled.  
“Maybe it’s time for you to try it!” 
"I... have thought about it. A lot actually." Spencer whispered while his eyes dropped to the floor. "With you specifically"
At this point you definitely couldn't hide your confusion anymore. You took one date out of the plastic container to look at it before you said, "You have thought about eating dates with me?" 
When your eyes met his again you noticed the color draining from his face. The already pale doctor suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost. 
“You uhm… you… of course… you were talking about dates,” he stammered.
“Yes? What were you tal–” You stopped mid sentence when you realized. 
Oh.
Oh.
Spencer must have thought you were asking him out. 
Now his reaction made a lot more sense. 
Before you could say anything, Spencer quickly got up to leave the room. You could only imagine how embarrassed he must have been right then. Your heart began aching at the thought of hurting the person you cared so deeply about. 
The truth was that you were hoping for him to ask you out for months now. It was hard to tell if he actually liked you too, so you never had the courage to ask him yourself. 
It seemed like the cat was out of the bag now and it was your chance to finally ask him out for real. 
“Spencer!” You called out his name as you ran after him. “Wait, please!”
To your surprise he slowed down, coming to a halt right before he reached the elevators. 
“I just want to go catch some air,” he explained with a fake smile on his face. 
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” you said with a soft voice. “It was just a little misunderstanding.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s fine, really!” He lied while pressing the button of the elevators. 
“It’s true that I was just offering you a date, but…” you paused for a moment, noticing his eyes getting bigger. 
You almost got lost in the warm amber that were his irises. It was hard to actually speak the words you so clearly wanted to say. But you knew it was now or never. 
“... But I would really like to go out with you. On an actual date,” you confessed. 
The features of Spencer's face suddenly softened and it seemed like relief washed over him. 
“You do?” He wanted to make sure. 
“Yeah, I really do,” you confirmed.
A wide smile appeared on his face. “I would really like that, too. Maybe we could go out for dinner someday.”
“Dinner sounds a lot better than just eating dates together,” you laughed. 
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani
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huskersbooze · 3 months
Text
Who's in Control?
Alastor x Reader
| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)
Warnings : swear words
Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)
Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off
Word count : 1.8k
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"Good morning, dear."
"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
"It was good! And yours?"
"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."
The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.
-----
You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.
And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.
He was growing a soft-spot for you.
It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.
Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.
But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.
“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.
“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”
“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.
“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”
“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”
“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”
“Al and I are just friends.”
“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”
“Still, we're just friends-”
“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”
“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”
The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.
“He owns my soul..?”
“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”
You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.
But you were confused.
“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”
“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”
“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”
“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”
“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.
“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”
“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”
“About..?”
“What it means to sell your soul.”
“I know what it means, Al said-”
“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”
“Because you like your job..?”
“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”
“Who..?”
“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”
And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.
He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.
He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.
He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.
And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.
“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”
“Yup.” Angel nods.
“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”
“Exactly.” Husk replies.
“And there's no escaping this contract..?”
“No.” The two reply together.
“Fuck.”
-----
“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.
There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”
“You alright, kid?”
“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.
The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.
And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.
“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.
Everyone turns their attention towards her.
Everyone but Alastor.
He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.
How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?
But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?
He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.
Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.
“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”
“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.
Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.
“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.
“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.
“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”
“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?
“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”
“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.
Alastor stiffens, then laughs.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”
“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”
You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.
Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.
What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?
“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.
Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.
“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”
You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.
“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”
“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”
“Dear, please, listen to me..!”
“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”
He pauses.
“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.
-----
“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”
“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”
“About the deal?”
“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”
“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”
“No.”
“Well, why not?”
“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."
“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.
“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”
Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.
“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”
“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”
“I surely hope you're correct."
———/ TBC. /———
READ PART 2 HERE
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mariasont · 1 month
Text
Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H
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a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader
summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo
wc: 2.3k
You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.
You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office. 
And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks. 
"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."
You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?
"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."
Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things. 
"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."
Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.
The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door. 
You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.
He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything. 
Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them. 
You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people. 
Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation. 
Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.
It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.
Hi honey. What time are you coming over?
You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest. 
so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo
You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.
Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.
You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.
no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!
Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color. 
i look & sound disgustinggg rn
I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.
I want to see your pretty face.
you can be so flattering when u want to mister!
im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?
Hmm, okay.
love u! xoxo
I love you too, pretty girl.
You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic. 
You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.
The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.
Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.
You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.
At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood. 
Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"
The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray. 
He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."
You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."
A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.
His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."
The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming. 
You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm. 
You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"
"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.
"Do you want help?"
The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?
 "Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.
You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.
"How was your day?"
You wince internally at the automatic question. 
"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."
Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?
"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost. 
He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."
You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.
Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."
Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."
You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."
"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."
"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."
"It's silly."
He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."
That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.
"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"
"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"
You draw in a breath.
His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.
"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."
"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."
"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."
"Oh."
"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"
You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."
taglist: @hotchhner
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geltears · 5 months
Text
fratboy!geto
cw: college au, masturbation, smut, love confessions, miscommunication
fratboy!Suguru who’s in the most popular frat and on the football team only because his best friend and local campus manwhore, Gojo Satorou, is the captain and head of the frat
Suguru had sworn he knew almost every girl on campus from seeing them enter Gojo’s room at least once but he has no idea who you are when you’re paired together for a Psych research project
“Are you new here? Haven’t seen you in this class before.” And he’d know that you’ve taken this class for 2 semesters if he ever bothered to come to class not hungover.
He pretty much forgets about you after that until Satorou starts eyeing you up in the hall on their daily walk to class and he looks at you, actually looks at you and the frilly dress you’re wearing with your necklace tucked in the same way it was when he talked to you in class.
Suguru doesn’t know what happened to him and why he feels the sudden urge to stake some claim over you. “Hey, we still on to work on our thing at your place right?”
Except, you never had any plans to work on your project but when Suguru grins at you, how could you refuse?
fratboy!Suguru who shows up to your dorm late as hell, still in his football jersey from training, panting with his hair slicked down to his face with sweat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve just skipped the meeting entirely but he thinks he might just have a crush on you.
“What’re you some kinda slut? Why d’ya have a pair of panties like that?” he shamelessly says and points out your lacy thong that you had left out on your bed. He thinks it’s adorable the way you scramble to hide the pink material but he’s already engraved the image into his head.
He doesn’t do much studying or any kind of work (you should’ve known) and somehow weasels his way into your bed.
He’s a great fuck: sweaty toned abs pressing against the back of your thighs as he bends your knees into your chest to drill his thick cock into you. “Hngh Suguru- I can’t take it-“ you’re clawing at his arm and gasping from the stretch.
“You can take it,” he grunts, “C’mon be good for me and fucking take it.”
He’s so big you almost think you’re going to die— die from how good he’s fucking you. You can feel him in your tummy, his fat leaky tip pressing against your cervix as he jackhammers his hips into you with wet plapping sounds as his balls slap against your ass.
fratboy!Suguru who has an almost perfect attendance record this semester because he comes to class just to see you. He's sillier than you would have imagined-- do all football players play footsies under the table?
No, Suguru usually leaves these stuff to Satorou but he loves the way your eyes crinkle up in delight when he makes you giggle.
He chats you up every time you have class, brings you sickly sweet pastries because he doesn’t know what else you’d like and for the first time in years, Suguru feels a connection.
You still get a little flustered when he talks to you because why is he still talking to you when you've already submitted your assignment and he's gotten into your pants?
fratboy!Suguru who finds himself rushing to put in one last word with you after class. He had this all planned out but all he manages is “You coming to the game later?” with a sheepish grin.
And funny enough it’s your first time going to one of these games since you enrolled.
When they win, Geto surprisingly comes running over to you in the front row of the stands, pausing when he realizes he was leaning up for a kiss. He hugs you instead, grinning widely and looking handsome as ever as he pulls you flush to his chest.
It’s perfect until Satorou appears behind him and slaps a hand on his shoulder in that boyish way, sporting his signature toothy smile.
“Is this your girl or something? You’re gonna miss the celebration party.”
“Nah just....a friend,” he clears his throat, “See you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
fratboy!Suguru who ends up leaving the party early because things just don't seem fun when you're not around anymore.
He indulges himself silly and waits til his body is hot with need before heading up to his room to wait off the alcohol.
Suguru finds himself butt-naked, beefy thighs spread wide on his bed as he jerks his throbbing cock and thinks about you. You and your pretty face.
He spreads his pre over his fat tip with his thumb, moaning lowly at the thought of how your fingers would feel wrapped around him. He bites his lip as he thinks about it: your hands would shake as you wrapped around his girth but you'd manage and your small fingers would squeeze and pump his cock expertly.
With a few more lazy twists of his fist around his cock and a strained buck of his hips, Suguru groans out your name and cums in thick, hot spurts all over his chest.
fratboy!Suguru who feels ashamed and acts as if it never happened when he sees you in class the next day. He sits next to you and talks about the usual frat-party shenanigans like you’re just friends.
Because you are just friends, right?
Suguru’s attitude makes you want to curl into a ball and disappear. He makes you feel like a dumb little girl. Why did you think the hot footballer would take you seriously?
fratboy!Suguru who definitely has a huge crush on you and finally works up the courage to ask you out. It’s a shocker but he’s only ever had one girlfriend before and that was in high school and the girl tried to fuck Satorou (who refused).
He gets to class early to wait for you in your usual seats and he’s practically bouncing in anticipation at seeing you. He thinks about how pretty you look when you scrunch your nose in concentration and his cock stirs in his pants.
fratboy!Suguru who spent the whole class on edge and too worried to take notes because you never showed up. He runs faster than he ever has on the field to get to your door and he might’ve broken the door down if you had let him pound it a little longer.
“What? Oh, hi.”
“Holy shit- Where have you been?” he rasps.
He's pushing past you and letting himself in un-invited, burly shoulders shoving you away from the doorway with ease. "Is there something you need?" your words crunch on their way out.
For the first time since freshman year, he finds himself fumbling for his words. "Well yeah- I uh, wanted to tell you something."
Suguru can see the tick in your brow and he thinks it's the first time he's ever seen you get angry.
"I like you," he blurts, loudly and stupidly like he's never talked to a girl before," I like you a lot and I was wondering-"
He doesn't get anymore words in after his embarrassing little confession because you're already leaning up on your tippy-toes to kiss him deeply, small hands coming up to wrap around his neck.
fratboy!Suguru who realises that he didn't kiss you the last time y'all had sex so no wonder you thought it was just a quick fuck to him.
He makes sure to make up for it. That night, Suguru's mouth touches almost every intimate part of your body. He's nothing like how rough he was before. He kisses your inner-thighs and eats your pussy like a man starved, slurping and pulling you down against his face so his tongue can get as far as possible inside you.
He kisses you sloppy after too, your cum still fresh on his tongue and his face still covered in your slick.
Geto has never been this nervous about sex before. He bumps the tip of his cock clumsily against your clit, veiny length throbbing at the sound of your shocked squeal.
He kisses your ankle, spreads your legs wide so he can get a good view of where his cock sinks into your tight cunt and your clit twitches with want. He thinks you're so sexy-- he could cum just like this without moving an inch.
But he doesn't. He steadies his breath and angles his hips to hit your sweet spot, groaning every time you moan from the sensation and clench around his cock.
fratboy!Suguru who kisses your forehead when you wake up in the morning to being pressed against his firm chest, now with the title of his girlfriend.
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