#are they not getting a taste of their own medicine 😭😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 9 months

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HONEY, I’M HOME ─── jackson rippner ✧♤

ೃ⁀➷ “You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.” — ‘Letters to Milena’, Franz Kafka

pairing. jackson rippner x assassin!reader

summary. jackson hires a prostitute the night before meeting his target. only thing is, you’re not a prostitute— you’re an assassin hired to kill him. but he catches your eye, and instead, you keep him for yourself.

warnings. swearing, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, slight housewife kink, kidnapping, drugging, pretty toxic relationship lmao, somnophilia, dubcon, hate-sex kinda, guns, choking, stockholm syndrome, cervix fucking, jackson gets a taste of his own medicine basically😭, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. OKAY i know i said it was going into the direction of dom!reader but i got possessed and now,,, now we have this hate sex filth🫡

When Jackson comes to, the very first thing his mind registers in your perfume. It’s sweet and vanilla-y and entirely intoxicating, sending his mind whirling back to prehistoric days, childhood days, a vague mother figure he’d long forgotten about pressing sugar cookie dough onto a metal pan.

Instead, as Jackson’s eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright, warm lamp-light curling around him and the various furniture in the room, he sees you, sitting in front of him on the floor.

Your knees are pulled up and tucked under your chin, and it seems you’ve fallen asleep, your face peaceful and serene as soft inhales and exhales of breath leave you.

You look like a pure angel, dolled up in a silk lace dress and neat bows so pristinely Jackson swore he could see a halo resting above your soft locks, but he knows you’re someone who can kill — has killed.

Jackson had been staying in a motel, readying himself to meet the target he was stalking the next day — some politico's daughter, y’know, perfect blackmail material — when you’d knocked on his door, dressed in a skanky skintight dress and garter belt, promising some fun for a flimsy fifty.

Prostitution was illegal in this state, but Jackson had some money and time to kill — plus, if he didn’t get something now he’d probably fuck his target, which wasn’t really encouraged considering he could get attached, all that bullshit job professionalism. He wouldn’t, obviously, but his higher-ups didn’t think the same.

So he agreed; you looked stupid enough, and with that nice pair on you, those sweet curves, you were bound to be a good fuck. And you were definitely enough for him to handle— handle killing, he meant. It’d be easy: get you a little tipsy ‘cause it was his “kink” or some shit like that, kill you when you’re coming, dispose of your body, and meet the target in the morning.

But then you’d kissed him, hungry and desperate and rough, and totally, completely, slipping the pill tucked under your tongue down his throat.

Jackson realized immediately, his hands darting to the gun he had tucked in his belt, but you punched him in the stomach and the jaw before he could even undo the safety. And then he’d done it: he’d swallowed the drug, and the effects were instantaneous, the connection between his thoughts and his limbs losing focus, body sluggish like he was wading through water.

So suddenly had the situation had gone from him hiring a prostitute to getting fucking drugged by one, and he felt his composure slipping, the outrage burning in his lungs. Jackson thought himself to be a logical, well-thought out man who planned things to the tee, and this was not fucking following his plan.

“What did you - do t’ me?!” He spat, voice growing slurred, bent over and clutching his stomach.

“Mm,” you considered telling him, pursing your lips and watching him sway back and forth, “just a little something to calm you down. But, honey, I think you better sit down… it's not a mild drug.”

“Answer my fucking—“ Jackson started caustically, then felt that familiar pins and needles sensation appear in his arms, then spread to his legs, before finally falling to the floor.

“See?” You cooed, standing above him. You watched him struggle against the drug for a moment, before grinning and pulling him up off the floor onto the bed.

Jackson listlessly fought your touch, slowly thrashing and kicking at you; his limbs may have grown numb, but his inhibitions had not lowered whatsoever, nor his paranoia. Good paranoia, in this situation, just not so good that it kicked in before you shoved a paralytic down his throat.

You rolled your eyes, sitting down beside him and pushing his head onto your lap, digging your elbow into his chest to make him stay in place.

Jackson choked at the pressure, blinking rapidly. “Who th- the -- fuck are you?”

“I’m an assassin, honey. I’m gonna kill you — or, y’know, I’m supposed to kill you.” You beamed at him, “but I can’t do that, now can I? That’d be a waste of such a pretty face.”

Jackson’s brows knitted exasperatedly, mouth contorting to speak, but nothing came out. In fact, his mouth hadn’t been moving at all— his face had grown numb, now blankly staring up at you.

“There we go,” you said happily. “The drug’s all kicked in now, hasn't it? I’ll speak freely, ‘cause y’can’t answer me anymore, not even scream or cry.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping like you were finally able to fucking relax, and began petting his hair before continuing. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you? Stalking that politician’s daughter… were you gonna fuck her? Threaten her dad, have some fun, then kill them both?”

Jackson’s breathing grew more furious, eyes widening— or, they would’ve, if he could move. This was about his job, about the target, not just some fucking freak accident and a crazy prostitute.

You frowned, shaking your head. “You’ve gotta do more research on the people you blackmail, honey— Mr. Politican’ll do anything to keep his little princess safe. Even murder.”

You then got up, and Jackson watched you pull something out of your tights, unable to respond or protest or even fucking move, frozen still on the cheap motel mattress.

“But like I said, you’re too cute to die like that. I think I’ll keep you for myself.” You winked, before pricking him in the neck with the needle that was hidden in your tights.

His breath hitched, but there was no use: black quickly curled into the edges of his vision, and one second passed, then another, then he was out.

That brought him back to now, waking up with his arms handcuffed behind him and his legs tied roughly to a wooden chair. He rustled, pulling against the cuffs as quietly as possible, gaze still obsessively trained on your every micro-movement.

But it didn't matter: your eyes opened the moment you’d heard his breath catch and stutter, and you got up lightly, dreamily, like you were some figment of Jackson’s imagination rather than a psychopathic kidnapping assassin.

“Morning, honey,” you whispered, getting up off the floor, rubbing your eyes and yawning. But he didn’t respond, still pulling at his restraints, eyes thinned and focussed.

“Are you mad at me?” You whined with a frown, circling around his chair and playfully covering his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry. I’ll buy some cute lingerie, give you a little show… do you like lace? Or maybe leather?”

Jackson’s nostrils flared, growing irate and incredulous at your antics, and he snapped. “Do you really think you can keep me here? Make me play fucking house with you?” He shouted groggily, body still feeling the aftereffects of not one, but two, drugs.

You blinked numbly, hand finding his face, and you pressed his cheeks together, making him look up at you. “I won’t make you play house with me, Jackson. But it's the only thing you can do. You’re dead.”

Your tone had gone cold, using his real name instead of your pet-one, expression going blank and completely unfeeling at his words. Then, you fumbled for something on the wooden vanity beside you two before lifting it up to his face.

It read: TERRORIST GROUP LEADER’S REMAINS FOUND IN RED-EYE FLIGHT WRECK.

Jackson’s lips parted, feelings riddled half in shock and half in utter fury, gaze shaky as it flitted back and forth between you and the newspaper you were holding up. “I’m fucking—“

“Alive, I know. That’s kinda the point,” you finished his sentence with a chuckle, shaking your head like any of this was a joking matter. “When a plane goes down and catches fire, burning everybody, they won’t individually check who's who, honey. If there’s a name on the seat, there’s someone in it, and they’re dead… you’re as good as dead.”

Jackson’s eyebrows were still knit, but he suddenly stared straight ahead, listening to you silently and trying to make sure you were still too focussed on explaining theatrically to realize he was about to dislocate his thumb.

He could deal with the stool later — he just needed to get his arms free and escape. What with your grating voice and the fucking pronunciation of death you’d forced upon him, god, his fury was rising quickly, and he wanted nothing more right now than to fucking kill you.

You finished your explanation, peering deeply into his bright blue eyes, and you were about to wrap your arms around his neck and press him comfortingly to your chest when he successfully freed himself, and his hands shot out from behind him to strangle you.

His fingers curled around your neck extremely easily, tightening and contracting around the thing snugly. Jackson was seeing red, the anger accumulated from every little insane fucking thing you did to him bursting.

You struggled against him, your mouth opening and closing pitifully, leaning down into his grip— until your lips tilted upwards, a devilishly cheshire smile digging into your cheeks like it was an expression God never intended you to make.

Jackson only realized you’d taken his gun away from him when he felt the tip of the barrel kiss his temple, cold and clammy. He was still disoriented, and didn’t exactly comprehend all the facts ‘till they fucking punched him in the face. Or, in this case, threatened to shoot him point blank.

“L’mme - l’mme go, h’ney,” you whispered raspily, your eyes stuttering in their socket as he pressed deeper. Simultaneously, completely on instinct, you pressed the gun further into his skin.

“You’re too fucking weak to fire that gun,” he growled, digging his thumbs into the neat notch in the middle of your neck, his fingernails scratching bloody marks into your sensitive skin.

But you frowned weakly, and then Jackson heard that all familiar click, making him blanch. The strength in his hands didn’t falter, however— it got angrier, more desperate, like you wouldn’t automatically shoot him if he just translated his wrath into his grip.

“I d’nt- w’nna k-kill you,” you shook your head a bit, but both your threats remained the same: his hands making you go lightheaded, go blue, and the gun in yours making him sweat, the image of you splattering his brain against the wall clear as day.

Jackson felt your finger twitch, and he closed his eyes, grip going tense then faltering completely: if you shot him now, there was no point holding on. But you did the same— you thought he’d snap your neck right then and there, so you pulled away.

Just as quickly as you two had attacked one another, your resolves’ had crumbled, murderous intent clearing the room like someone had opened a window and let it all out. Silence filled it back up instead, a steady tension permeating with it, and it was fucking suffocating.

“What do you - want from me, exactly?” Jackson questioned first, several long moments later, words slow and collected. He’d try to calm himself and hide his anger away for later, because he now knew that you meant for him to meet only two ends here: forever with you, or forever dead— and neither were ends he was intending to have.

To escape, crawl under your nose and perhaps kill you along the way, he’d need to know the rules— play your little game. This cat and mouse mess could be done in a flash, and he fucking knew you had a weakness. He could feel it in your touch, how you gripped him, the lonely warble in your insane words.

Sure, you kidnapped him and were calling him honey, treating him like he was your plaything, but Jackson had always been good at reading people, even before he’d become an amalgamated mess of an assassin, terrorist and blackmailer: you needed someone in your life— be it a husband or a hostage.

You got down on one knee, looking up at him through your wet lashes, breathing still ragged. One of your hands took his own dislocated one, while the other fished through your silk dress pockets, pulling out a gold band ring identical to the one gleaming prettily on your left hand.

You didn’t answer his question saying for you to marry me or for you to love me— both things Jackson would expect you to say, especially with your oddly profound obsession with him (despite the fact he was positive you’d only known him for a few weeks at most.) No, you’d smiled, a lovely duchenne one, rosy-cheeked like a fucking schoolgirl confessing to her crush, not an assassin who’d kidnapped him, and said, “For you to be mine.”

Your hand curled around his dislocated thumb and quickly snapped it, cruel and rough but perfectly back in place, before you slipped the ring onto his finger shakily, and brought his hand up to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“You’re mine,” you repeated in a whisper, sounding every bit like a warning rather than a celebration.

ii.

After a few days of living with— or, more accurately, being held captive by you, Jackson thought he had you all figured out. It usually only took a few days for him and a target to become acquainted anyway; mutual acquaintance or not.

He found that the warmer he treated you, the more freedom he’d have. Like, after you slipped the ring on his finger, you undid the ropes tying his legs. A reward, you’d said, for accepting your… unity.

But you still switched out the clinky metal cuffs for zip ties. “I can’t have you doing that nifty little thumb trick anymore, can I?” you explained. “But I still want you to walk around. Take a tour of the rest of your life, honey.”

Then, you told him you had to go to work — to which Jackson rolled his eyes, considering assassination wasn’t exactly what he’d call work, though, he would also have to call himself a hypocrite — and left. Jackson wasn’t shy about roaming about the house, especially to look for a fucking escape, but he was firstly confronted with the sheer size of the place you’d locked him in.

Where he’d first waken up was the master bedroom, long and wide with a king poster bed and canopy, a pair of couples vanities side by side, two walk-in closets and one large ensuite. The rest of the house was the same, being two stories tall and terribly extensive: Jackson ran out of fingers on his hands to count how many rooms were in it.

By the time he’d combed through the entire house — discovering a measly two possible escape routes in the process — it was dark outside, and you entered through a front door Jackson couldn’t find for the fucking life of him.

It was appalling, firstly how spontaneous and carefree you were whilst simultaneously thinking of everything that could go wrong, and secondly, how up to par your skills were to his. He wasn’t one to gloat, but he knew just as well as his coworkers that he was a large step above the rest— and it seemed you were, too, the only equal he’d encountered in his line of work… and the only person who’d bested him.

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-songed in the hallway, poking your head into each and every room for Jackson’s familiar form.

Jackson had settled back in the master bedroom, sitting on the very chair you’d untied him from that morning, and when you finally found him you cooed. “Aw, baby, you don’t hafta’ stay here all day.” You said, lifting his chin to look up at you.

Jackson grit his teeth, his temper suddenly getting the best of him, and he spat at you. But the effect didn't work nearly as well as intended: you didn’t even wince, merely blinking and bringing two fingers to your cheek and wiping the slick off. You pouted at him for a second, made your eyes real big and pitiful, before kissing him on the cheek… and shoving your spit-slicked fingers into his mouth, making him gag.

It looked like you were enjoying his suffering, before pulling away a moment later. “Well, no matter,” you said, brushing his actions off and regaining your happy mood. “I know you weren’t really here all day, honey.”

Jackson’s lips parted, eyes thinning suspiciously. “What the fuck are you—“

You suddenly pulled out your phone, showing camera angles from all throughout the house… and more startlingly, previous footage of him, scouring the house’s windows and poking through the various furniture and rooms earlier in the day. “You are quite the curious cat.”

“You have a camera?” He asked indignantly. Honestly, he should’ve expected it: it’s like, what do you get when you have a captive itching to escape and an obsessive, head-over-heels captor with plenty of money on her hands?

“Several,” you preened, “so don’t bother escaping.”

Then, you hooked your arm into his and dragged him to one of the (many, many) dining rooms.

“Now, I’ve never exactly had a hostage before,” you offered, pushing him into one of your cushy walnut dining chairs, “so I just realized you haven’t eaten. God, I’m so sorry, honey, you must be starving.”

With that, you ducked into the large kitchen a room away, and then returned holding a steaming plate of something, setting the dish down in front of him. “It’s not exactly, y’know, fine dining,” you said, picking up the spoon hidden in the food and scooping up some peas, “but it’s home-cooked. Not my home cooking, obviously, it is -- was, a target’s. I had a plate earlier, don’t worry, it’s good.”

Jackson stared at you, mind spinning with the information you were nonchalantly throwing at him: you were feeding him, your hand holding the cutlery, his mouth around it like he was fucking six, and the person who had made this food was dead, having had their throat slit or something.

But there was another thing in Jackson’s mind, a tiny, weak voice within him that told him to just shut the hell up and eat the damn food. His survival instinct, probably, but then it went on to think that you weren’t that bad, feeding him and keeping him safe from the police in this nice, grand house— and Jackson squished the voice. No fucking way in hell was he experiencing early stage stockholm syndrome.

At his reluctance, you frowned, and forced the spoonful in his mouth. “Eat,” you scolded, and fed him till the whole plate was finished.

He ate, of course, not because of the little bitch voice in his head, but because of the fact that he actually was really fucking hungry. The gesture seemed to warm your heart, for some fucked up reason, and you later sat in the livingroom with him and loosened his zipties.

There was a brief moment, however, that Jackson felt even an iota of fear: when his hands were slightly free, he immediately reached to grab you— he was taller, stronger, and could certainly defeat you in mere moments.

But your sneaky fingers tightened his restraints at the drop of a hat, your head butting his jaw so he fell back on the couch. “Try anything,” you warned, tone suddenly dark, “and I will break your fucking wrist.”

At his tentative, jaw slightly dropped, shaky nod, a cold sweat beaming down from his temple, you dissolved into a fit of laughter at his expression and undid his ties once more. This time, your hand held his in an intimate death grip, thumb curled sweetly around the wrist, that warning still ringing in his head.

He was learning how to play the game, though. His captor’s behavior. What you liked, what you didn’t. The extent of your mercy.

Jackson cleared his throat, searching for a question that might make you open up. “…What’s your name, anyway?” Yes, he didn’t even know your fucking name, and he doubted that the tacky prostitute name you’d given him initially was your real one.

You looked up at him, surprised he’d speak first, nonetheless to know more about you. So, you indulged, and told him your name, things you liked, didn’t like, your hobbies… all normal people stuff— y’know, first date stuff.

“I keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me,” you confessed, leaning your head on his stiff figure, “‘cause I’ve known you for a very long time.”

Jackson’s breath hitched. “How so?” he said, trying not to give away his eagerness; he was going through all the steps he did when first meeting a target, like being kind and sweet, respectful and attentive, really buttering them up and coaxing information from them, before going in for the kill. In Jackson’s current case, the “kill” was a kiss.

It’d be something chaste, nervous, like he was unwittingly slipping into your trap and couldn’t help the warmth bubbling within him toward you, so you would fall into his; hook, line, and sinker… and maybe completely undo his zipties. He’d have to lay low for a few days, obviously, and build up that obsessive trust of yours, before going in for the literal kill.

But then again, Jackson, with that delirious little ego of his, kept forgetting your skills were up to par with his, and you were the first and only person to ever fucking best him.

You grinned thinly, knowing exact what he was doing, noticed the pattern his words went in, trying to shepherd the conversation to get the answers he wanted, and you pulled away from him. “I’ll tell you another day, honey. M’gonna go to bed,” you whispered sleepily, redoing his zipties. “Join me. I don’t like it when you tire yourself out.”

And so you left, and Jackson watched your hips sway, legs carrying you down the long hallway into the master bedroom. As soon as you were out of direct view, he sucked in a sharp breath, seething angrily.

Fuck, he thought, the realization of his predicament settling within in him at last. He’d always been told this: if you didn’t believe you could escape your situation within the first day, you would never escape at all. He thought it a silly mantra, because he’d always devised an escape plan after thinking on it for a few long moments.

Never did he think he’d find himself in a situation where that actually fucking applied, never did he think he’d meet his equal, and never in his entire, terrorizing existence, did he think he’d be helpless.

But Jackson had to persevere. Had to. He had not survived every terrible incident thrown at him in his tired lifetime, just to accept this. And so, he went to bed with you, the zipties rubbing his pale skin raw, and he watched the shadows on the roof shift with every hour that passed.

He did not sleep, certainly not with you by his side, and though it looked like it, you did not either. It was the paranoia of two terribly similar people; gaze dancing in the dark and never finding each others, waiting for the moment one of you snapped and you had to attack or defend.

The next day, and the next day after that, he went to bed beside you. Just like that, turned into weeks turned into months turned into seasons changing, and the zipties became cloth became your hand holding his.

It was a culmination of feigned loving, fake vulnerability, and pretending he’d gotten Stockholm syndrome that got him to this point. Every “honey, i’m home,” or kiss or hug or pet-name you stabbed into him, he returned with a “welcome home, honey”, a peck on the cheek, a hand holding yours, his venomous tone switched like a light into something sweet, soft.

One night, with his newly ziptie-free arms wrapping around you, your back nestling sweetly against his torso, he has to remind himself that it is not real. None of it was real: he was not your husband, you were not his wife, you did not love each other, you were not normal fucking people— you were the captive and the captor.

Jackson had to remind himself he didn’t actually love you, because that night he thought: if you used him, he would use you. He would take you whenever he wanted, like how you used him. A man has needs, he thought, and being trapped in this house with you meant those needs could be met.

It reminded him of when you first met— not the kidnapping part, of course, but of the kissing and the touching, your tits pressing softly against his chest, his hands following the swell of your ass.

With a start, he realized he’d had some kind of unintentional celibacy enacted upon him: he couldn’t fuck anyone other than you, obviously, having been trapped in that house, but he never entertained the idea of fucking you because he hated you. You don’t fuck the bitch you’re planning to kill any day now.

But your warm body against his awoke something in him, his forced celibacy unable to survive against the pure lust he felt filling him now. You were beautiful, undeniably, with pliant thighs and delicate curves he could see himself getting between animalistically, roughly, a kind of morbid sexual revenge against your captivity of him. It helped entirely that this was the most vulnerable he’d seen you, completely without any weapons, curled warmly into his side.

After studying your breathing for a few seconds, ensuring you were still asleep, Jackson carefully slipped away from you to kneel in front of you in the middle of the bed. He admired your night getup: those silk dresses you adored to wear at home, and absolutely no underwear.

He then pried your soft thighs open slightly, dipping his head between them and losing himself in the sweet scent of your cunt, before chancing a stripe up to your clit. He flattened his tongue, wanting to collect your taste on it completely, and you merely sighed, turning over slightly and widening your legs in your sleep, like you somehow knew what he was doing and wanted it.

He pressed his mouth up to your cunt fully now, his nose hitting your mound as he devoured you, tongue filling every crevice and fold you had like he was starving. Your small whimpers and breathy sighs grew louder now, more frequent, and then Jackson suddenly pulled away, satisfied with how he readied your hole.

Jackson shimmed himself out of his boxer shorts, a pair with silly little hearts he’d never seriously buy for himself— you bought them, as soon as you’d captured him, clearly having fun with the utter control you could display on him, down to his fucking undergarments.

He shook himself slightly, refocussing on the matter at hand: fucking into your glistening cunt. There was something oddly empowering about doing this to you when you couldn’t protest, regaining some control over his own fucking life by terrorizing yours.

But he wasn’t sure you’d fucking care anyway: he knew you liked to peek around the corner when he was showering, “accidentally” walking in when he was in the middle of changing, not-so subtly bending down and pressing your ass to his crotch.

He sighed slightly, rubbing his hand up and down on his hard length in the dark, before lining it up with your entrance. Jackson muffled the groan that curdled in his throat with his large hand, breathing shakily and finally pushing past your slick folds. You were soaking, and he didn’t know if it was because of his previous foreplay or if you were just naturally like this, all horny because he slept beside you at night. He wouldn’t put it past you if that was the case: your obsession with him was clear in every single way.

You made a noise in your sleep, and Jackson froze, hands instinctively coming up to press lightly against your throat — an unconscious thing on his part, formed when his hands had been zip tied and the only thing he could do was choke you, unable to grip any weapon properly. But you didn’t wake up; your face merely screwed together, before smoothing out and returning to blissful unconsciousness.

Jackson let out a sigh of pleasure and relief, your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He gripped the sheets beside your head and began thrusting in and out of you: at first gently, afraid to wake you up, but as the minutes dripped past, Jackson grew desperate, fucking into your cunt roughly. He wanted to abuse your tight little pussy, stretch you wide open and take you for everything you had.

“Fuck,” he grunted under his breath, snapping his hips harder against yours, “Fuck!”

His exclamation of sexual satisfaction startled you awake, but he didn’t notice how your eyes moved behind your eyelids, too focussed on pounding his rock-hard cock into you. For all the insanity and behavioral issues God gave you, he certainly made up for it in the way he crafted your cunt: extremely warm and easily wet, a sticky hole that sucked him in but was still cramped, like it was begging him to force your walls open.

“Honey?” you murmured foggily, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were about to speak again, when Jackson suddenly found your g-spot, and rammed continually into it, making a filthy mewl leave your lips.

“Fuck, you woke up?” Jackson cursed, looking at you for the first time. His thrusts were unrelenting, though, now not caring if you’d woken up and just wanting to feel your hole squeeze around him again.

“Jackson, I was - sleeping,” you squeaked out, hands moving to his back and digging your nails into the skin.

“That’s kinda the point,” Jackson mocked, tone sarcastic and peeved like you were interrupting him. “And don’t fucking fight it,” he warned angrily, hand leaving the mattress and roughly squeezing one of your tits through the fabric of your nightdress, “‘cause I’m not stopping ‘till I come.”

You pouted fake-sadly at his words, but your back arching gave you away, keening when he kneaded your tit too meanly and made a shock of pain run up your body. “Feels so good,” you grinned sweatily, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he sighed, throwing his head back, “didn’t fucking ask what you thought.”

He pushed your face to the side so he was looking at your jaw, more content with treating you like just some hole, but you didn’t care: he, your darling, was fucking you. He wanted you so bad he fucked you when you weren’t even awake. God, you could’ve kissed him right then and there, but he probably would’ve hit you. (Not that you would mind… but you wanted your honey to take control, have it his way for a bit.)

Jackson rutted into you fast and selfish, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the violent way he fucked you: your sick pleasure came at the expense of your weeping cunt, which was trembling in the stinging pain he was inflicting, cockhead stretching you wide.

Then, Jackson’s hands slid down to your hips, so he could shove his cock deeper into your cunt, pressing his weight so heavily onto your chest you could barely breathe. He groaned; you were clearly affected by the action, bearing down on his cock suddenly, and he reveled in the ecstacy.

He fucked you slightly and slower, and you only realized what he’d been doing when he leaned down to get a better angle, bullying the head of his cock against your cervix: he was trying to fuck into you further, push his dick so close, so snug against your womb that there was no doubt in hell his load would impregnate you. His actions were dictated not by any sense of reason, but by a crude, carnal desire, wanting nothing more but to make you scream.

And you did scream alright, a breathy, brutal scream; a mix of whimpering pain at the way his head pushed against you, and of shameful, drooling pleasure, his delicious length making you feel fucking bloated, you were so full.

One of Jackson’s hands reached up to your head to pull your hair, making you whine at the pain of the tug, and he growled out a string of curse words, before thrusting his cock so angrily it was like a punishment, surely bruising your cervix, and releasing his thick load deep inside. His come flooded your cunt, pumping you full of his salty cream, fucking you still.

Jackson then panted raggedly, feeling your gummy walls tense at the pain of him pulling out, flopping down beside you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you absently, pulling his boxer shorts back up to his hips.

You bit your lip as you clenched your thighs together, whining slightly at the pain blooming deep within your abused cunt, and at the loss of pleasure— you hadn’t come after all, Jackson being entirely selfish in his fucking. “Uh-huh,” you murmured weakly, feeling the strength in your body leave you completely. “You’re a mean one, honey.”

“Good,” Jackson said, chuckling darkly. It was the first laugh you’d heard rumble out of him the entire time you’d held him captive, and you drank it in: it was pleasant and breezy, like cold water on a hot day. It was certainly out of place, such a gleeful laugh after savagely fucking you, but you welcomed it anyway.

Jackson suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “M’gonna use your hole whenever I want, and you’re gonna take my cock no matter what, ‘till you’re begging me to stop,” he growled in your ear, making goosebumps break out on your clammy skin. “Least you can do for fuckin’ kidnapping me, you psychotic bitch.”

“Oh,” you purred, batting your lashes up at him, “it’d be my pleasure to be your fucktoy.”

Jackson grinned, at you, for you, and you thought to yourself that kidnapping him was the best thing you ever fucking did.

iii.

Somewhere, muddled between you kidnapping him, the two of you almost killing eachother, and him fucking you dumb, Jackson caved, and he started to believe he actually loved you. His mind didn’t have any qualms accepting that you were his new life— living in your house, only knowing you, and only ever talking to you.

Maybe it was stockholm syndrome, or those delicious fantasies you’d whisper in his ear at night (“Y’know, honey, it’s really you who should be saying you’re home. What do you think, huh? You coming home from a long day of work to me, in my panties and an apron, no bra and a sweet, home-cooked meal on the table. Dessert’ll be, of course, me,”) or maybe it was just you.

You, despite your terrible job and seriously obvious insanity, being the epitome of fuckable: horny when he was, a talented, needy mouth, able to take anything he gave you to while always going back to being tight as fuck, and intensely eager to have him.

You, who controlled his life, and he, who controlled you. The way you treated each other was probably illegal somewhere, but in that house not even the fucking law mattered. (You still remember when Jackson got his gun back, and he teased your clit with the cold tip till you creamed down the barrel… a terribly memorable story that always made you groan.)

Jackson was extremely well aware that there was something strange about your relationship, and not just the fact it occurred in the strangest way possible, but that he was essentially giving up to you— losing his inhibitions, at least against you. Something about… putting his well being in your hands. His needs. His wants. His life. Spending the rest of his life with you; in this house, accepting life and no escape.

But still, for a man like Jackson, who had long since accepted that he wasn’t cut out for a life of normalcy, a life of love, this certainly wasn’t a bad way of living. He had a house nicer than anything he’d ever lived in, didn’t have to work, could do whatever he wanted all day, and got to pound his cock into your perfect little pussy every single night.

#wowee this has a lot of words and a lot of warnings #this is filthy i apologize #cillian murphy smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x reader smut #red eye #jackson rippner

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lilacqiqis · 4 months

Text

"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

#mod.lilac.writes #naruto x reader #kakashi x reader #obito x reader #hinata x reader #hinata hyuga x reader #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #sai x reader #naruto headcanons

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theemporium · 1 year

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in need of wolfstar smut ideas?? say less!!

wolfstar x reader where wolfstar gets hit on by two girls who are older than reader and reader waits for them to say something to the girls but they kind of like seeing reader get all riled up and when she leaves to go dance they smirk at each other before they see her take off her jacket and walk onto the dance floor where like all the guys start flirting/dancing with her and they make eye contact with each other and JEALOUS BATHROOM SEX SCENE! okay sorry🤭🤭

i found this in my docs from last night? so apparently i came back from a night out and wrote it and don't remember it? anyways lowkey shit but i am too lazy to fix it😭thank you for requesting!🖤

It was stupid.

You had no reason to be insecure about your relationship, and you weren’t. Not in the slightest. You knew that your boys wanted you. You knew you were the one they loved. You knew at the end of the night, you would be the one that would go home with them.

But the girls all over them didn’t seem to know that.

It wasn’t an unusual sight to see girls flanking all over your boyfriends and you honestly couldn’t blame them. They were both absolutely gorgeous in their own rights. Remus with his sandy brown hair, broad shoulders and thick arms. Sirius with his pretty face, charming smile and irresistible charm.

Your boyfriends were fucking models and everyone in this stupid club agreed, especially the girls that had been giggling and laughing with them for the last five minutes at the bar.

Now, you weren’t dumb. You knew exactly what game your boys were playing at because they had endlessly teased you on how cute you looked when you were jealous. The way your nose would scrunch up and your eyes narrowed into a glare. The way you looked downright murderous but it was probably one of the hottest looks they had ever seen on you.

Because they liked getting you jealous, because they liked seeing you possessive and territorial of them. Because your boyfriends were sneaky bastards who liked to find ways of riling you up so your attention was fully on them.

But tonight? You didn’t want to let them win tonight even if every cell in your body wanted to storm over to the bar, nuzzle yourself between your boys and make it really fucking clear to everyone in this club that they belonged to you.

No. You were going to give them a taste of their own medicine.

You could feel their eyes on you the second you stood up from your seat at the booth, their watchful gazes intense and familiar. You tried to bite back your smirk as you shrugged off the light jacket you brought with you, dumping it in the booth before you made your way towards the dance floor whilst staying in their line of sight.

The boys had complimented you endlessly on your dress before you had left the flat. The way the colour contrasted against your skin, the way it clung onto your body just the way they fucking adored. And they loved how confident you were in it, the way you felt gorgeous in it.

However, what they didn’t enjoy was the way everyone’s eyes were on you the second you started dancing to whatever song that was thumping through the speakers.

Your arms were in the air, your eyes were closed and the smile on your face was pure fucking mischeif as you danced to the song, knowing full well that both of your boyfriends were watching you—knowing that the girls around them were the last thing on their minds at that moment.

Remus and Sirius were already on edge the second they saw you walked onto the dance floor, but it was a man—a stranger—putting his hands on you that made them move. You barely felt the touch on your waist when they were ripped away from you, the familiar scent of Sirius’ cologne overwhelming your senses as he dragged you against his chest.

“Sirius–”

“Quiet,” the boy grunted in your ear, a look shared over your head with Remus before they were both flanking you—guarding you—away from the dance floor and towards the bathroom.

You didn’t even get a chance to open your mouth before you found yourself in the bathrooms, the door locked and your body pressed against the cool ceramic sinks as the light flickered above you.

“What were you playing at, love?” Remus murmured, his eyebrows furrowed together as he stood in front of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Doin’ what you were doin’,” you grumbled with an adorable pout on your lips. “Did you even tell those girls you had a girlfriend?”

“Doesn’t mean you go shaking that pretty arse of yours like it doesn’t belong to us,” Sirius sniped, his body warm against your side as he moved your hair to the side, head ducking down to press kisses against your shoulder as he moved the strap of your dress out of the way.

“Then they shouldn’t touch what’s mine,” you snapped back, your eyes falling shut as you felt Sirius’ teeth scrape against your sweet spot, but Remus squeezed your cheeks to grab your attention again.

“You’re ours, baby,” he murmured, his lips close enough that if you just shifted your head up a little you could kiss him, but it was impossible to do with the hold he had on you. “And we’re yours.”

“Are you?” you asked, your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt Sirius’ hand creeping up your skirt as he pressed lazy kisses against your skin. “Maybe that man out there will actually—”

“Be careful how you finish that sentence,” Remus growled, his eyes darkening as he watched you closely.

“Think our girl needs a reminder,” Sirius chimed in, his hand squeezing your upper thigh as the fabric of your dress bunched against his wrist.

Their hands were all over you, touching you and overwhelming you and manhandling you in a way you shouldn’t like but you really fucking did. The way Remus’ kept one hand on your throat, the other with his fingers threaded through your hair to keep your eyes on him. The way Sirius all but ripped the flimsy material of your panties off you, his hand tucked between your thighs as his fingers worked magic you never quite understood.

You were theirs and they were reminding you.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, your voice a little whiny as you tried to roll your hips against Sirius’ palm but Remus kept you still. “Please, I—”

“You what, baby?” Remus’ voice was gruff and low, his eyes watching in delight as you squirmed when Sirius slowly pumped one finger in and out of you, the pace too slow and the girth nowhere near enough. “You want more?”

“Please,” you choked out a sob.

“You want us to make you feel good?” Remus cooed, tugging your hair a little until you let out a whimper. “You don’t want the bastard outside, do you?”

You shook your head, whining. “No, no—just yous, just want my boys.”

“Just us, lovie?” Sirius murmured, his lips brushed against your ear. “Want us to fuck you like the dumb slut you are?”

You nodded helplessly.

“Say it,” Remus bit out. “I wanna hear you fucking say it or you’re getting nothing.”

“I want you to fuck me dumb,” you begged, your eyes glossy and cheeks flushed. You were like a rubber band just waiting to snap but they weren’t giving you anywhere near enough to do so. “I’m your slut, just yours.”

“Yes, you are,” Remus growled before pressing his lips against yours.

You didn’t even get a chance to reply. Not when Remus had roughly spinned you around, your stomach pressed against the ledge as he bent you over the sink. Not as he shoved the fabric of your dress up, slapping your ass sharply. Not as he slid into your soaking cunt, listening to way you moaned and mewled but gave you no more attention as he turned to Sirius, fingers wound in his hair as he gave him a passionate kiss.

“Gotta earn it like a good girl,” Remus groaned, listening to the way you whined for attention like a little slut. “Gotta fuck yourself on my cock to show me you fucking deserve it.”

Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink, your tits falling out of the confinements of your dress as you fucked yourself back on his cock like a desperate whore. But no matter how much you moaned or begged, Remus didn’t give in.

He didn’t give you any attention. He didn’t let you come. He didn’t do anything but watch you fuck yourself feverishly on his cock, your eyes desperately finding Sirius’ in hopes he would help, but your other boy just watched with a smirk and his hand around his cock.

“C’mon, sweetheart, gotta put on more of a show for us if you wanna come tonight,” Sirius chided, his eyes gleaming in delight in such a way that you knew it was going to be a long night even after you left this bathroom. “We want this whole fucking club to know who you’re a slut for.”

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thegettingbyp2 · 5 months

Note

Babesss, i have been binge reading Coriolanus Snow x reader fic and i need therapy 😭

But i have a request if you’re up for it! You can just ignore if you don’t feel like it.

Can you write where reader is just as powerful and possessive as Corio is? And thats how he feel in love w her?

Theyre both possessive and obsessive to one another that they are always needing each other.

Told you i need therapy 😭😂

Mutual Satisfaction

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You and Coriolanus were so similar, no one thought that you were going to be a good fit for each other. Actually, you both think that the fact you are so similar is the reason why you work so well together; you understand each other in a way that no one else would be able to. You didn’t know how to explain it, you just had this need to constantly be around him and he felt the exact same way towards you.

The two of you were currently at a party, celebrating the reaping of the first Hunger Games since Coriolanus had been sworn in as President. You’d been separated for the past hour or so, both of you being dragged away by others to either talk or dance so the moment you could get away, you went in search of him.

When you rounded a corner to see Coriolanus sitting with a girl on his lap, you saw red. Coriolanus was yours. You were the only one that could touch him. Not thinking, you stormed over to them, failing to notice Coriolanus’ eyes light up slightly when he saw you.

‘Well, it looks like you’re having a lovely time,’ you said in a sickly sweet voice as you smiled down at Coriolanus.

‘I’ve just been waiting for you to finish up your little dance, darling,’ Coriolanus replied smoothly, a smirk working its way onto his lips as he realised that your eyes were practically trained on where the girl had her hand wrapped around his arm. ‘I take it you’re ready to go?’ he asked, making to move the girl away from him and stand up.

‘Oh, not at all! I was just making sure that you were okay, I’m actually going to go and see if I can have another dance with Flickerman.’ You leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning when you heard his breath hitch slightly before standing back up and walking away.

You were about halfway through your third dance with the News Reporter and you could feel Coriolanus’s eyes on you the whole time. Deciding to rile him up and give him a taste of his own medicine, you stepped even closer to Lucreatius, smiling up at him charmingly.

‘Can we expect you and the President at the opening of the games this year?’ he asked, unaware of the fact you were both being watched like a hawk.

‘Of course, you’d have to tie us both down to keep us away,’ you replied, laughing lightly. The sound of your laughter across the room had the hairs on the nape of Coriolanus’ neck pricking up. That was the moment he knew he needed to intervene.

‘Sorry to interrupt but we really need to be going.’ You felt Coriolanus’s arm wrap around your waist from behind as he subtly yanked you into his chest, away from Flickerman. His voice sounded tight and you couldn’t help but smirk at how he was trying to control himself.

‘But, we’re having so much fun!’ you exclaimed, turning around to face him, batting your eyelashes at him. Coriolanus’s arm tightened around you before looking back up at Lucreatius.

‘Thank you for keeping her entertained but we really do need to go,’ he excused you both before practically dragging you out of the party.

The second you were both home and the door was closed behind you, Coriolanus pulled you into a bruising kiss, his hands keeping you pressed up against him. Your hands slid up his back until they were fisted in the hair at the nape of his neck before breaking the kiss, tugging at his hair.

‘I didn’t like seeing you with that girl on your lap,’ you said, your grip tightening when you thought back to the party. ‘You’re mine, Corio.’

‘And I think you need to remember, my love, that you’re mine as well,’ he replied, pulling your own hair back, causing you to lose your grip on him. ‘I didn’t ask for that girl to approach me, you sought out Flickerman, giggling whenever he’d say the slightest thing, pressing this body, that belongs to me, up against him, all for the sole purpose of making a point.’ Coriolanus dipped his head down to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck, scraping your skin with his teeth when he heard your breath hitch.

You were quick to pull his lips back up to yours, pushing him backwards until he was seated on the couch, pulling you down with him until you were straddling his hips. His hands made their way down your body, pushing your dress up around your hips, groaning when he saw you had no underwear on. ‘You’re really pushing it tonight, my love.’

‘I’m only pushing it because you pushed me,’ you said, your hands going straight for his trousers, pushing them down far enough to free his cock. You pumped him up and down a couple of times before raising up on your knees, lining his cock up at your entrance and sinking down on him. You kept your eyes trained on him, almost daring him to lose his composure, only to be met with his cool eyes staring back at you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he began to move your hips, making you bounce up and down on him. He tilted his head forward until his forehead was pressed against yours and he was staring deep into your eyes.

‘You’re mine, (Y/N), aren’t you?’ he said lowly, not one breaking eye contact as he bucked his hips up against yours, making a whine escape your throat, your eyes closing involuntarily. All of a sudden, you felt one of his hands wrap around your neck, forcing your eyes to snap back open. ‘Answer me, my love,’ his voice turned almost sinisterly sweet and you found yourself nodding.

‘All yours.’

‘Good.’ He pressed his lips back to yours as his hips started thrusting into your roughly from underneath you. Pressing your hands against his chest, you leaned in close, skin tingling at the feeling of his breaths coming out in pants against your shoulder.

‘Though you know you’re mine too, Corio, right?’ When he refused to answer, you slowed the movements of your hips down, feeing smug when he let out a quiet whimper. ‘Answer me, Coriolanus.’ You said, copying his earlier words and pressing a single kiss to his jawline.

‘Yes, I’m all yours.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ you whispered into his ear before picking your pace up.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 3 days

Text

my heart over yours; part five | j.fleming x reader

prompt: jessie and you finally stop being oblivious idiots. finally getting together.

author notes: this series is finally coming to an end, this feels weird 😭 i had so much fun writing this actually. so enjoy all this fluff as a ty for all the love this series got 🩷

contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, lesbians that stopped being oblivious, so much fluff, jeff and reader are certified lover girls™, small time jump but i swear it's nothing crazy like they aren't married, chelsea!jessie x reader, covid doesn't fcking exist in this thank god 🙏🏾

credit to @/glimmerofawesome for the gif 😝🙏🏾

masterlist to the previous parts

playing best part by daniel caesar & h.e.r 🎵

"you taste like cheap liquor," is the first thing jessie says when she pulls away. it quickly changes the mood from semi-romantic to playful. you laugh loudly, unable to control your volume with the alcohol still in your system. good thing the party was still going strong and the music was still blasting so loud you're sure that someone could fall down the stairs and nobody would notice.

the canadian doesn't go too far when she pulls away, still holding onto you. partially because she wants to be close to you after everything that happened and also partially because the alcohol was really starting to get to you so you weren't able to stand that well on your own.

"you're supposed to say something way more romantic after a kiss, freckles," you say, moving your hand to cup one side of her face. she leans into your touch, giving you a smug smile. "you still tasted good though."

"gross! that's even less romantic than the last thing you said," you laugh loudly again. stumbling bit but jessie holds onto you so that you don't fall. you pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her waist with your face against her shoulder; suddenly feeling very tired.

"it's not gross, it's true," jessie laughs at your clinginess. drunk you weren't as messy as she thought, it's actually a really cute sight. "let's get you home," the canadian decides against going back through the party. not wanting to deal with having to push her way through a bunch of drunken people and a house that smells of a combination of sweat, alcohol, and cologne & perfume. she pulls you towards the front of the house by going through the small path that goes from the backyard to the front. quick to hold you by the waist with one of her arms, using her free hand to text hallie to come out so you all could go.

in the back of your mind is gabriela. you are sure she is somewhere in the house drunk making out with some girl, not even thinking about you. leaving without saying anything felt wrong but you just remind yourself to text her in the morning. even though you will probably be fighting off a bad hangover.

it takes ten minutes that felt like pure seconds in your drunken haze for hallie to come out. when you see her, you stumble out of jessie's arms and into hallie's. the blonde is a close friend to jessie since they both play for the ucla soccer team, so obviously you are quite close to her as well. it's only natural when jessie and you are that attached.

"hii halls," you giggle as hallie catches you. she giggles right alongside you, pulling you towards the car. jessie is following close behind. "i'm a cough medicine now?" the tall girl gives you a funny look that makes you giggle again. the alcohol was really starting to get to your brain. you don't reply, just smiling at her. once jessie reaches the car she opens the backseat for hallie to lead you into. after that's done, instead of sitting in the passenger seat like she had on the way here, the canadian sits in the backseat with you. claiming she had to make sure you didn't puke all over hallie's seats which wasn't entirely a lie. puking all over the blonde's white seats wouldn't have been a pretty sight, but also jessie just wanted to stay close to you. especially with you being so vulnerable. she has hardly seen you drunk before; only once or twice when jessie would bring beer for you two to try into the dorm.

"this tastes like piss," you would say after the first sips. coughing in a dramatic way to prove your point. then of course like always, jessie would find a way to tease you and say, "how do you know what piss tastes like?" then you two would burst out laughing. pouring the beer down the drain in the bathroom before going out and getting slushies.

jessie is taken out of her reminiscing by you slamming into her side. wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your head against her shoulder.

"why don't you have a seatbelt on..?" jessie frowns, her eyes glancing down at your waist. you don't answer her. just letting out a soft sigh. the soccer player chuckles before snapping you into the middle seatbelt. the short dress you have put on has been riding up since earlier, but jessie somehow didn't notice. she pulls it down as much as she can; ever a gentle-woman.

the ride isn't long, with jessie and hallie talking quietly so you wouldn't wake up. even though jessie doubts you would awake at anything. she won't tell you, but you did snore a bit. just quiet, light ones. nothing crazy. she'll eventually tease you about later when you don't even expect it, but for now she'll leave you alone.

getting you from the car to the dorm once you three arrived on campus wasn't hard. you were half asleep, so you just let jessie and hallie drag you along; from hallie's parking spot to the dorm building then up the stairs and finally into jessie and yours actual dorm. hallie gently sits you down on jessie's bed before sighing, "that's enough chasing after drunk women for one night. good night."

"good night. hopefully you don't fail your exam in the morning," jessie says, it's more of a tease, as the blonde leaves out of the room. hallie lets out a sarcastic laugh before shaking her head, "whatever. don't let your girl throw up all over your sheets."

the implication of you being her girl, jessie's girl makes the freckled girl blush slightly. shutting the door behind hallie so that the blonde wouldn't tease her about the sight of her slightly redden cheeks. the taller soccer player would tease her about it anyways, knowing how her friend already is, but nevertheless.

jessie turns to focus her attention on you. she walks over to her bed where you're snuggling with her pillow. she lets out a small chuckle at the sight. were you always this cute? jessie decides in her mind that yeah you always been this cute. she just never wanted to admit it.

"y/n.. get up, so you can change," she mumbles softly. leaning in close to look at your sleeping face. the word babe almost slips out of her mouth, but she doesn't know if it's the right time. she's been wanting to call you that for a while now, jessie didn't really get why the urge was so strong but it was, and it has slipped out a few times, but you always just accepted it. teasing her by calling her some overly sweet petname back. you didn't notice the light blush on her cheeks back then or maybe you did and never said anything.

your eyes open but slowly you close them back, shifting so you can get more comfortable. jessie smiles but don't let you go back to sleep so easily. pulling you up until you're sitting up. a pout sits on your lips, "jess.. no.. i'll sleep in this."

"you won't be comfortable and will complain in the morning," she says. you would smile at how she knows you so well, but the sleepiness is really getting to you. "help me..?" you ask softly. the canadian doesn't even flinch at your request; she would always help out alongside your mom whenever you were sick, so she helped you change a few times before. she moves away from you to go over to the dresser, grabbing out one of her t-shirts. coming back over to you.

you're laying down again. jessie just pulls you up again and talks enough that you are now half asleep. sluggishly moving so she can help you take off your heels then your dress and finally slip the t-shirt over your head so that you can put your arms through the arm holes. now you can comfortably lay back down, snuggling up to jessie's pillow again. however you whine at the fact it doesn't have any warmth or a pulse.

"jess... where are you?" the words come out of your mouth. jessie stays silent for a moment, too busy changing after you laid down.

"just making sure you don't wake up with a horrible hangover tomorrow." she finishes with changing quickly. wearing one of your tank tops, having slipped off her pants to leave only her boxers. she grabs a waterbottle off of the dress before coming back over to the bed for you. it's room temperature but it's not like she's going to leave out of the dorm to get you a cold water. it's obvious you want her near you and obviously she's going to listen to you. again she pulls you up, holding you up with her free hand as she sits on the bed. shifting so that your back is resting against her chest. you whine, leaning into her.

"drink something. i bet you only drunk alcohol," she says. opening the bottle before handing it to you.

"not true. i'm a responsible eighteen year old," you say. she chuckles, just nodding even though she doesn't really believe that you weren't just drinking alcohol all night. despite your words you still drink the water. almost dropping it out of tiredness, but jessie keeps your hand steady by holding onto your wrist. once you're done she takes the water from you, puts on the cap, and sets it aside on the window still next to her bed.

when you realize the water is out of your hand you try to lay back down in a quite awkward position as your waist lays on one of jessie's legs. she smiles at your cuteness, deciding to help you out as she moves around slightly so that your back is meeting her front again but this time you two are laying down. her arms hug your waist. the feeling must be comforting because you let out a soft hum of content. then just like that you drift off to sleep.

meanwhile jessie is laying there with her face against the back of your head, thinking.

thinking about what happened out there on that patio earlier. how you confessed, or is more like admitted since everyone else knew all along, your feelings for you. how she confessed her feelings for you. this wasn't nothing new, for jessie, at least.

jessie realized her feelings earlier than you did. around the time you told her that you got accepted into ucla. the fact you would choose the same college as her and upend your entire life to go to a country you have never lived in for jessie (mostly) touched her heart. you have given up soccer, so you weren't going to further your career. you never showed much interest or really any at all in heading to america before jessie said she chose ucla. it was for her.

of course, jessie is not someone who is ego centric. your choice to come to america wasn't entirely for her, but she's sure she played a big part. is it wrong to think this? the soccer player doesn't dwell on whether her thinking is right or wrong, as she slowly drifts off to sleep right alongside your already deep in sleep figure.

an entire week passes before you two talk about what happened. it wasn't like you guys were ignoring it, but life got in the way. your schedule was packed with classes and jessie was splitting her time between classes & the gym so she could stay in shape. you would always come home, exhausted, to an already changed jessie snacking on a huge bag of chips and she would always invite you to join her. with you two falling asleep right after whatever show jessie is watching is over, sometimes before.

it's sunday afternoon when jessie asks you about it. you're in the bathroom, trying to do your hair so you can go out and get some ice cream. she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. making sure to not put too much weight on your back so that you can continue to do your hair comfortably.

"so.." her hand plays with the bottom of your shirt, "you said you love me. that you're in love with me."

your movements stop for a moment as you meet her eyes through the mirror. then you continue, allowing her to speak on.

"do you want to go on our first date as girlfriends?" jessie asks. hearing the word girlfriend leave her mouth makes you smile. oh yeah, you two technically are dating now. you didn't think about that part when you confessed. "you didn't even say the can i be your girlfriend part though," you tease.

that makes jessie chuckle. she pulls your hands away from your hair to turn you. now she is pressing you against the counter, her front touching yours. you smile, your eyes tracing the freckles scattered across her face.

"look me in my eyes," the soccer player uses her hand to hold onto your chin in a gentle grip. you don't want to look away once you two's eyes meet. you would drown in that gorgeous brown of her iris if you could. "i'm looking," you whisper out into the small space between you two.

"can i be your girlfriend?" she asks, leaning in close so that her lips almost meet yours. almost.

and you giggle. you fucking giggle right against her lips. mostly because your heart feels like it's going to burst and also because you can never take jessie too seriously. she is still your bestfriend at the end of the day after all. now she's also your girlfriend. the feeling of you laughing against her lips makes jessie giggles too. then your laugh is muffled as she closes that small gap and kisses you.

the kiss isn't really sudden, but you giggle even more. smiling so hard into the kiss, your hands scramble to grip onto her shirt. her hands are cupping your face.

and she's pressing and pressing against you and her lips are so soft against yours and she tastes like that stupid strawberry gum she was chewing earlier and she's so warm, so fucking warm you feel like you are burning and you never want this to end to end and dear god.

why haven't you done this before?

you are the first to pull away if you can even call it that when your body feels like it's about to become apart of the sink. your tongue peeks out to lick your lips. you can still taste jessie on your tongue.

the canadian is obviously waiting for some words from you as she just stares at you, panting slightly from all that oxygen is lost while eating your face.

you giggle, leaning in close to peck the tip of her nose.

"yes, you can be my girlfriend. can i be your girlfriend?"

"you can be whatever the fuck you want to me," jessie says. she doesn't add that you can do whatever you want to me too part, but you can feel it's there. you know it's there; because you know jessie like the back of your hand, like the air you breathe, like the studies you spend countless hours on. you know jessie like she's apart of your soul.

she is apart of your soul.

jessie moves away from you to leave out of the bathroom much to your dismay. a pout sits on your lips as you watch her, but you don't chase after her. turning to go back to doing your hair. she comes back into the room after a few minutes, changed into some cargo shorts and a compression shirt that definitely not hers but you don't say anything. your eyes lingering on the way the shirt hugs her body longer than they should.

"so back to that date. let's go right now?" she leans against the doorframe. "right now? i'm not even dressed," you say. of course it's bluff you are going to say yes anyway.

"yeah, yeah. hurry so we can go," jessie smiles at you. it's warm and adorable and you hate yourself for giggling at the cuteness of it. actually, scratch that. you don't hate yourself for that, why wouldn't you find it absolutely adorable?

it takes a little while but you get ready eventually and you two head off to get some ice cream. walking around a park near the ucla campus, just talking and playing around on the swings like the children you really are.

then you two went to a vietnamese restaurant. one you been wanting to go to, but again college was taking up most of your time. the pho was delicious and so was the duck soup, that was jessie's favorite actually. you two filled up on that flavorful food before slowly making your way to the beach.

the sun is setting and you're sure the beach is most likely closed, but you don't really care.

"wanna go for a swim?" jessie asks you as she starts to take off her shorts. you laugh at how quick she is to take them off. "skinny dipping?"

the freckled girl looks at you with a blank look. "no, what. someone could see us," she says. you already know jessie is pretty shy and would definitely not like someone else other than you or her family seeing her with a lack of clothing. she continues to slip off her clothes, leaving her in just her nike pros and sports bra.

you follow suit, it is hot in california after all. taking off your shirt but leaving on your shorts. jessie gives you a questioning look.

"what? i don't have on any boxers or whatever like you do. i would look like i'm running around the beach with no clothes on really," you shrug off her confusion. grabbing onto her hand before running and dragging her along with you to the ocean. she laughs loudly and yelps when the waves first hit her legs.

"why is it cold? this is la!" jessie shouts even though she doesn't need to. there is no one else around and the waves aren't that loud.

"i don't know, but guess what?"

"what..?"

the small smirk on your face makes jessie want to back away from you and run because she can already tell you're about to do something extremely mischievous but she isn't able to when you pull her down with you into the room.

she lets out a really loud shout of surprise before the sound is gone as her body goes under water. you two look at each other underwater, smiling. this scene feels nostalgic. reminds you of those summers when your parents and her parents would go camp by the lake, squished between right after the summer soccer season ended and before school started. you didn't realize how little time that was back then, it felt like forever, but now you do.

the moment elysse was put down for her nap or was too tired to swim, jessie and you would run off a little bit along the lake shore. she would dare you to jump in first, but of course you would refuse, not wanting to go alone so you two would hold hands and jump in together.

back to right now, jessie and you play around in the water for a long while. even though it was pretty cold, as cold as it can be in la.

then you two are laying on the beach and her hand is touching yours and you swear the sand is sticking to your skin and you are freezing but still a smile sits on your face because somehow jessie is still warm. she's always warm.

"i think you're so gorgeous," jessie whispers out into the comfortable silence between you two. you turn your body to look at her fully, she's smiling.

you about to speak but she cuts you off by saying, "wait. i don't think, i know you are so gorgeous. i think you are pretty like the moon with the personality of the sun and if i wasn't already in love with you, i would have fallen in love right now at this moment."

and you don't know what to say to that. curse jessie for being so good with her words; but one thing you do know is how to show your appreciation and so you kiss her. your hands trailing on her half dry half wet body. the mix of the warmth of her skin and the coolness of the sand feels so good under your touch.

you curse the human body for needing to breathe when jessie pulls away.

"i think you're so gorgeous too," you whisper to her and you think you just might marry jessie as she gives you one of those shy grins of hers.

jessie graduates a year before you do. when she walked across the stage, you were probably the loudest in the room alongside her family and yours. the embarrassed blush on her cheeks makes her mother tease endlessly as you all head to dinner to celebrate the end of her college soccer career and just college in general.

"look at you, all grown up," your mother says to jessie outside of the restaurant after you all have eaten. she pecks the freckled face of the canadian, talking more and more about how she watched jessie grow up to be a beautiful young woman. jessie blushes throughout most of it and you fight the urge to tell your mom to stop being so embarrassing, but you let her have this.

after a long conversation with jessie's parents, you and jessie go to get in your car. you wave at your mother as jessie drives off. you're certain the two pairs of parents will be having a great time in la while jessie and you go back to you guys dorm. well, it's more of your dorm now.

"maybe i can go fishing with your dad one of these days, like this summer?" jessie says, giving you a glance. you give her a confused look before giggling, "why would you go fishing?"

"because your dad was talking about it and seemed so interested." she returns your confused look. why were you laughing?

"my dad is 'interested' in a thousand things. you know how indecisive he is."

"ohh. so just like his daughter?"

"jessie!"

the next two days were spent finishing up jessie's packing. she have opted out of the nwsl draft after getting having chelsea knocking at her door and you get it. the thought of long distance this early in your relationship feels like the key to trouble, but you already know you two will be alright. when jessie moved to vancouver in highschool you were devastated, but you lived on and still were so close to her. you can definitely survive this.

"hopefully your little superstar rookie soccer stuff doesn't get in the way of you coming to my graduation next year," you say, taping up the last box filled with jessie's things. she rolls her eyes at you being so over dramatic.

she smiles, coming over to you, "i swear it won't. i'll make the trip."

"promise? if you don't pinky promise then i don't trust it." you hold out your pinky finger. she links hers with yours, shaking your linked fingers for good measure.

she uses that connection to pull you into a hug. then she pecks your lips; once, twice, another, and another. "i would kiss you for how many days we will be apart but we would be here forever," she says.

"hm, when i come over to england then you can give me all the kisses you want," you say back. giving her another peck before pulling away from her to go sit on her now bare mattress. so memories here in this room now just stuffed into a box and ready to be shipped miles away.

jessie follows you, laying beside you. she cuddles up to her but stays silent and you do too. so you two just lay there in comfortable silence. counting down the minutes until you have to drop jessie off at the airport.

and when that time comes, you almost want to cry but you don't. you save that for later when jessie is already on the plane, flying away to her new life that you will join soon. just one more year and you'll be there in england with her. it isn't so bad to spend a year apart; at least that's what you try to tell yourself. jessie was pretty distracting with her cute smile and soothing voice and soft hair and stupidly annoying jokes. is that really a pro of this long distance situation? doesn't seem like it.

you spend the next year working hard on your studies, so you can graduate on time. jessie and you don't get to see each other as much as you want to with her being so busy and you being so busy, but it's okay because you two sit on facetime for half of the day anyways. even with the time difference.

the day she comes back to ucla for your graduation, alongside your parents and hers, you nearly cry. no, you do cry,

because your family is there and jessie's family is there and jessie is there and you feel so surrounded with love that you think you might suffocate. jessie kisses you at the end of the night after showing you the video of her shouting for you as you walked across the stage. "you know i'm proud of you, right?" she whispered against your lips as she held you. "i know," you whispered back. you could see in the way her eyes shined as she stared at you. you could see in how she held you so gently. you could see with how she spoke about you.

yeah, you know jessie is proud of you.

the first time you come to a chelsea game wearing her jersey and screaming her name as she played the best ninety minutes that jessie swears she ever played in her entire life, she becomes certain on one thing;

jessie is going to marry you.

author notes: and that's the end of this series 💔💔 the ending is a little rushed but i love so i hope you guys love it too! i'm going to be writing and posting a lot since summer is close so like keep your eye out for my work. ty for all the support like fr 💗

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso fanfics

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povlnfour · 5 months

Note

I NEED YO READ HOW DO YOU TURN THIS THING OFF SO BADLY

say no more :3 this is one of those silly little wips i was inspired by when watching im a celebrity get me out of here😭 ++ also inspired by my fav streamers girlfriend not knowing how to turn his stream off

from the wip game

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOW DO YOU TURN THIS THING OFF? — LN4 WIP

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

genre: humour, established relationship

{full one shot here}

#… [gigi and : anon]#lando norris wip #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris smau

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stylespresleyhearted · 1 month

Text

POV: AUSTIN BUTLER IS IN LOVE

(AND DOESN’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT)

masterlist here x

liked by fan21, user13, and 937 others

enews Love is in the air! Austin Butler and his girlfriend shared the sweetest reunion outside the airport 😭 more photos at the link in bio

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fan34 omg i am so freaking jealous

user12 GOD HAS FAVORITES AND IT AINT ME

butlerfan It feels so good to see him be publicly in love and not hide it anymore

liked by florencepugh, tomhardy, and 15933 others

austinbutler Happy day 🎂❤️

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fan13 LMAO THE OFFICE MEME RETURNS

tchalamet happy birthday gee! @yourinstagram

zendaya 27 has never looked better queen 💕

ashleytisdale I’m telling Jupiter LOL! Happiest birthday to you @yourinstagram you are a blessing in our lives 🥰🥰

ashleybee HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💘💘💘

liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 97188 others

yourinstagram 💋 smooches for @austinbutler

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glenpowell Austin Butler is one lucky lucky man

fan13 not glen in the comment section please

user13 this gets cuter when you realize she was actually kissing him through the glass 😭❤️

oliviadejonge absolute stunner 🥀

austinbutler Get over here right now

liked by fan12, user13 and 988 others

enews Austin Butler and girlfriend spotted sharing a few cuddles and kisses while on a date! We all know how much they love their smooches 😚

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user21 one hand on her back, other in her pocket this man knows he’s fine

fan13 IM SO FUCKIN LONELY 😩

liked by ashleytisdale and 13794 others

austinbutler sweatin’ because my date is so hot

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ashleybee HAHA the caption 😂😂

yourinstagram lol u cheesy man 🫶🏻 ily

anthonyboyle He was probably so proud with it too 😂

keoghan ace mateeee 😌

ayoedibiri this is my favorite post you have ever posted

liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 93166 others

austinbutler Took over lighting production during a visit on set and she killed it !!

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florencepugh I’m so mad you didn’t bring her on the Dune set

yourinstagram WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS THERE EVERY WEEKEND

florencepugh not enough. i needed you there every day.

yourinstagram Michael Mann said the job is mine 🤩

user13 y/n getting a job on the heat 2 set iktr!!!

liked by tchalamet, bazluhrmann, and 101766 others

austinbutler I want to do with you what spring does to cherry tress - Pablo Neruda

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fan23 … is everyone else also transfixed on her awesome boobs or am i a perv ?

oliviadejonge gorgeous girl

tomholland2013 aren’t we lucky boys mate?

ashleytisdale 😍😍😍

ayoedibiri she’s got you quoting pablo neruda and i completely understand why

yourinstagram if your boyfriend isn’t also your photographer break up with him

liked by catherinemartinedesigns and 89716 others

austinbutler 🕶️

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zendaya the coolest to ever do it

keoghan92 sickkkk

rileykeough Austin we’re gonna need you to release a book of all the photos you have of this gorgeous girl 🌚

ashleybee Her job is Cool Barbie

liked by ashleybee, anthonyboyle, and 67178 others

yourinstagram was my turn to snap a photo of this handsome guy who makes me the happiest i have ever been ♥️♾️ ‘love could be labeled poison and we’d drink it anyway’

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austinbutler oh no

yourinstagram taste of your own medicine mister lol

keoghan92 my teeth can’t handle the sweetness

florencepugh not one bad photo of either of you exists

ashleybee Having a big sister moment because he’s winked the same since he was like 5

yourinstagram can we look at baby pictures again 🥹

—

No disrespect intended to Austin’s current relationship, I respect their privacy but also I really wish Austin would post his gf, talk about her, all that good stuff I GET WHY HE DOESN’T 😭

also using Sydney Sweeney as a FC because I’m currently obsessed with her she’s awesome?? Brilliant ??? She is everything. Also I may have an idea for part 2 but it would be nsfw concerning leaked nudes and such but would anyone be interested in that? Lemme know! As always feel free to come chat 💬

#austin butler x reader #austin butler instagram #sydney sweeney instagram #austin butler instagram edit #austin butler fanfic #still working on callum as well just been so busy wahhhh #and im in love w sydney sweeney now #i watched immaculate she was great #i loved anyone but you #i love her work ethic

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factual-fantasy · 1 month

Text

23 asks! Thanks a bunch! :}} 🌠

@mimiocto

She does! Her name is Gloria :))

And if my motivation and health stays in my favor.. ya'll will learn a bit more about her and Bonnie soon... 👀👀👀

(Referencing this post)

The secret 9th eeveeloution, ghost type! <XD

@octonauts16

....Whelp, guess I'm canceling my Netflix account! <XD

(Monopoly post in question)

It was mostly a joke, XDD but none the less I'm sure no one would have taken it too much to heart! Its well known that Grim and V have a very strong bond so no one would have been surprised XDD

@candyglumboy

Thank you so much!! :DDD

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I'm glad!! :}}}

(Comic in question)

YOU!!! YOU GET IT!!!! WAHAAG THABK YOU!!! 😭😭💖💖💞

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD💞

I just slap the watermark on the drawing as its own layer and lower the opacity :00 usually putting a back blob cloud behind it at lower opacity if more visibility is needed!

....If that made any sense at all--

@userplaysminecraft

This is amongst the highest compliments my fanart can receive. Thank you 🥺🥺🥺

:DD Thank you so much!! I'm glad you love it!! :}}

@minnesotamedic186

Alas, I do not have a good tablet or stylus.. :((

But that's ok! I think I'm getting better! <:D .. I hope so at least! <:}}

@holly-opal

I haven't really ironed it out yet.. but one thing stays consistent. It sucked.

I wanted to create a situation where Mario and Luigi both did not want to go back to Earth. Sure there are things that would undoubtedly bother them a bit that I couldn't just whisk away. Never seeing another human again, never seeing any animals again.. Never hearing human songs again.. never tasting the food from Earth again..

But what I could do is make their old lives so horrible, that they were both willing to give up what they had for this new life as the "Hero's of Legend."

I pictured Mario and Luigi both being very poor. Just barely making it paycheck to paycheck. No friends, no family. No sentimentals even. Perhaps their childhood home burnt down.. so no family photo albums or old plushies to be attached to..

I couldn't decide what kind of relationship they had with their parents.. but either way, they've passed on. They worked a crappy job as plumbers which they both hated. They lived in a cruddy apartment that was too small for them. Rotten neighbors, disrespectful customers..

I pictured them having this terrible company van or truck that always broke down and stunk of cigarettes thanks to the previous owner. They were drowning in debt and bills. Trynna pay off the van, trynna buy new clothes, trynna by food...

I even imagined some of their bills and debt were medical related. I imagined Luigi being very ill and them being unable to afford food and medicine.. So Mario stole food from his clients. Maybe even robed a store or two. Now they've got "criminal" added to their list of problems.

They hated their apartment. They hated the van, they hated their neighbors, they hated people, they hated the world. They hated their lives. The only thing they had the room in their hearts to love was each other. The only thing that didn't hurt them or make them cry was each other. The only thing that made living in this horrible world worth it, was each other.

Then the mushroom kingdom came along.. "Hero's of Legend?" Magical powers? Kind people who care about us and respect us? No more debt, no more bills, no more van or apartment, no more stealing, just.. adventure. And they get to experience it all with their most favorite person in the world?

Why would they ever want to go back?

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

Alas, I do not know of any. :((( But I can imagine that the crew is nerdy enough to make their own shanty! A theme song of sorts. And you can bet that Seafoam would take pride in that song and sing it loudly with the rest of the crew! XD

@neo-metalscottic (100,000 reblogs post in question) (Octo clarification post)

Awe! That's so kind! Thank you!! :DD And I've been very glad to see my condition improve too 😌 though I'm not quite out of the thick of it yet.. :(( I hope I can fully beat it soon! <:))

As for the Great green toad king and company, I have actually never heard of them before! <:0 Though it would be very easy to label them as some far off kingdom and not put much thought into it <XDD Perhaps some of the species found in that kingdom could have become wandering travelers like Wario and Waluigi? Maybe we'd see them that way? :00

Now I know mentioning Birdo was a joke XDD But I do have plans for the Birdo species! :00

I had this idea that Yoshi's used to be smaller, about the same size they are in canon. Back then they acted as these passive.. almost farm like animals..?? In a way?? The toads used them to haul carts and as a form of transportation. Like horses! But eventually the Yoshis discovered "Yoshis island". A fruitful island planted in the middle if a giant river. A large sum of the Yoshis migrated from the forest and began to live there. Eating the super fruits and veggies it produced and slowly transforming into the giant mega Yoshis that are there today.

However, not all the Yoshi's left. A fair amount of them were kept and somehow made their way to the coast near Daisy's Kingdom. After generations and generations of Yoshi's eating red cheep cheeps and living in the water, they transformed and are now called Birdos. In present day Yoshi's and Birdos are extremely closely related, though they look a bit different from each other. And while Yoshi's come in all different colors, most Birdos grow up to be different shades of red, Pink and purple due to their red cheep cheep diet. Just like flamingos! :D

Anyways- on to the Goombas. The Goombas start out as these very poisonous brown mushrooms and are brought to life by Kamek. They form mouths and the poison that they originally had becomes poisonous saliva. So when they bite someone the poison does its job.. Even if who ever they bite is somehow immune to their poison, their bites are still nasty. They're dirty creatures and they really shred you up.. So the chance of natural infection is there none the less-

And WHAAAT?? Illumination whyyyyyyy 😭😭I love Toadsworth you had no right to scrap him--

And wow! That last battle looks crazy! My only question is who's this guy?? <XDD I don't recognize him!

Anywho- thanks again for the ask! Feel free to send more Mario ones, or not, which ever you please! I'd love to read what ever you may send :}}}

8 0 0 0 P A G E S ? ? ?

@pink088

That is the most cursed creature I have ever seen- XDD

I wanna say Louis has the most wins, buuuttttt Seafoam is so much bigger than Louis.. I feel like he would have the ability to overthrow him just by using his own body weight XDD Its hard to say!

(Ask was sent in response to this post)

SKSKKDJH ACTUALLY THO XDDDD

Oh- in order to make these ask posts I take screenshots of the asks, crop them, and then compile them all together. Usually I put them together on Tumblr desktop, so they're all blue.

But recently I've been batting some health problems and have been stuck on the couch all day.. which means that I've been making my ask posts on Tumblr mobile. Which is all black themed for me :00

Aw, thank you! Though I advice eating it with a spoon actually! In order to scoop up the tears of the characters- XDD

@caronaro-flipaclip

:0 Sponchbop! :DD Its hard to feel down with him around!

@beryl-shade

I have written many stories where characters have lost family or friends to death... but as for a character that was in the main story and I actually drew them? ..Not that I can recall! :0

#my response #super mario bros #pokemon scarlet and violet #gardevoir #ampharos #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs

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coeluvr · 3 months

Note

Mc is becoming more funny as the story progresses every time I see an option to say smth out of pocket I take the chance to do it, I LOVE giving Luceris a taste of his own medicine, the “He’s right, sometimes they get poisoned and die” OPTION HAD ME CLUTCHING MY PEARLS AND BACKING AWAY FROM THE SCREEN I LOVE MC IF MC HAS ZERO SUPPORTERS IM DEAD

I like to think that spending all these years with Luceris made (some) MCs take his sense of humor and make it their own so now they're both making bad jokes at the worst times 😭😭

Luceris, head in hands: you make the worst jokes in the worst situations who do you get it from

MC: ....you....

#coe answers #coaaf if: mc #coaaf if: luceris #a lot of people loved that dialogue which is funny to me because I didn't even think twice before adding it lmao

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maliland · 3 months

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RESENTMENT: PT. 2

"how could you lie?" part one angel(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: angst, infidelity, homewrecking, depressing themes, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 6.7k divider by @/cafekitsune a/n: this is gonna be my last sv fic for a hot min (or forever) 😭 savor and enjoy. ik the tag has been dead and you all have been malnourished, so yw! <3 icl, idk how i feel about it but y'all can lmk 🫶 (p.s: before ppl start nothing non-pg ever happened in this fic at any point in time. just kissing. ion get down like that 👍 thanks.)

when you arise in the morning and before you lay your head to rest at night, one thing is always definite: you are human.

humans are imperfect, so they make mistakes. genuine ones. honest ones. you’ve mixed up salt and sugar while baking chocolate chip cookies. you’ve hit your best friend square in the face while trying to spike a volleyball. you’ve missed assignment deadlines, forgotten about chores, and left the grocery list at home, all honest mistakes. a boy pressing his lips to another girl’s, though he has another he calls his own, is not a mistake. if it were up to you, it’d be a crime punishable by execution. between miles and yourself, no mercy was shown for the loyal one of you two, so why should he be granted any? infidelity; the act itself is the murder of the most important, sacred muscle, so why not return the favor?

you know your intentions before you give into the temptation of them. you knew miles knew. he knew from the moment that girl pulled him over to a vacant bedroom. did he think they’d simply exchange pleasantries? even so, why partake in such with someone who clearly has a taste for you? a taste for insulting the one you love most just as easily as she breathed?

these are all questions that would never be answered truthfully. you’d have to make peace with the reality or the only peace you’d know was the eternal kind that followed after death. and to think that you once believed in those stupid children’s fairy tales. miles made you believe that that kind of love could be real life. he almost made you believe you could attain the happy ending you always dreamed about. you were so close to it too. to have your bubble burst like that by the person you love most..? cold. way colder than the shivers repeatedly sinking down your spine.

it was a stupid idea to leave your window open.

the medicine you had taken for your cold had you knocked out in the warmth of your bed and you slept soundly. the chilly air would blow through the curtains now and then. the wind was only a light breeze at first. it felt nice, maybe even comforting, but when night finally fell, the current picked up. you were woken up by an icy blast hitting your face.

you groaned and slowly rose up, pulling the covers off of you before you swung your legs off of the bed. you drowsily staggered to your window and forced it shut, drawing the curtains closed only seconds afterward. you would just have to hope the mishap wouldn’t make you any sicker than you already were. you mindlessly carried yourself back to your bed and submerged yourself under the covers. you grabbed your phone, which was lying face down beside you.

you unlocked your phone and went straight to instagram, tapping through everyone's stories. most of the people you knew were at the party. parties weren't your cup of tea, so you couldn't really say you wished you had gone. you were more of a homebody than you'd like to admit.

you eventually got to miles' story. all he had posted was a single picture of him and his group of friends, and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. seeing your boyfriend happy made you happy. you smiled to yourself before switching to your messages app. you had notifications from both miles and your friends who were also at the halloween party. you opened miles’ messages first.

9:37pm

miles: hey ma (9:37 pm) miles: i know you’re probably sleeping right now, but i wanted to lyk that i got here okay (9:37 pm) miles: i’m with my friends (9:38 pm) miles: ima go now but i love you 💗 i’ll text you soon (9:39 pm)

10:23 pm

miles: yooo just checking in 🙌 miss you a lot (9:36 pm) miles: hope you’re enjoying that nap ❤️❤️(9:37 pm)

you: hey i’m up now 😈😈 (10:52 pm) you: i saw your ig story 🙃 looks like you guys are having fun so i’ll leave you to it (10:52 pm) you: text me later, i love you so much more 💓 (10:53 pm)

you swiped out of your text thread with miles and opened your group chat with your three best friends, sasha, lani, and nae. while you met sasha and lani not too long ago, you’ve known nae for damn near your entire life.

dollz 💘 9:13pm

sasha: how’s my bedridden baby? 🫶🫶 (9:13 pm)

lani: she’s been unconscious for mad long 👎(9:14 pm)

nae: we should ditch this party n go to her place instead i’m BOREDDD (9:16 pm) nae: and what if bro’s dead (9:16 pm)

jana: girl (9:20 pm) jana: she ain’t dead 🤦‍♀️ please. (9:21 pm)

sasha: ofc not (9:23 pm) sasha: nae's right.. this party lowk boring asf🧍‍♀️ can we leave soon? (9:25 pm)

jana: yes 💋 (9:25 pm)

nae: thought you’d never ask. (9:26 pm)

10:57pm

you: y’all i’m up damn! 😭 (10:57 pm) you: is it really that boring? miles seems to be having fun (10:57 pm)

nae: he buggin then cuz it's been like two hours and this party is STILL boring as shit (11:01 pm) nae: i tried to give it the benefit of the doubt but nvm. (11:01 pm) nae: my niece's fourth birthday party was x100 more turnt than this (11:02 pm) nae: i’m stuffing all the good snacks in my purse nd then we outta this bitch 🏃‍♀️ i’ll be in the car y’all (11:02 pm)

jana: bruh🧍‍♀️ (11:03 pm)

sasha: nae beloved, you already put hella snacks in the passenger seat (11:03 pm) nae: so? 🥱 (11:04 pm) sasha: you don’t need no more tf 😭😭 big backed hungry ass (11:04 pm)

you: yes she does (11:10 pm) you: she’s thinking of me, duh (11:11 pm)

sasha: damn you right.. maybe 🤷‍♀️ (11:15 pm) sasha: or maybe she'll eat up all the snacks and i'll laugh in your face and say i told you so 🤌 (11:16 pm)

jana: uh huh... anw girl can we come over? (11:18 pm)

you: i’d say yes but miles is coming over soon (11:21 pm) you: y’all can come over first thing tmrw morning tho 💋💋(11:21 pm)

right as you sent that message, your phone began to ring and you were met with your own puzzled reflection on the screen of your phone. it was a facetime call from nae. you couldn’t come up with a reason why she’d ever need to facetime you from a party when she could text or call. nevertheless, you picked up. you forced yourself up and out of you warmth of your bed, throwing your comforter and many, many blankets off of you.

you answered the facetime call as you turned the knob to your bedroom door to leave, making your way downstairs to the kitchen so you could raid the pantry for food. when nae’s face popped up on your screen, you noticed that the interior of sasha’s car surrounded her, but neither sasha or lani were anywhere to be found.

“hey danae, what’s up?” you said into the phone as you shut the microwave. you'd settled on instant ramen since you were feeling lazy. when you caught a glimpse of your best friend's face on your phone screen a second time, you clocked that she looked worried and that made you worried too. it didn't help that she was dead silent. you raised an eyebrow. “you alone? where’s lani and sasha?"

“something happened,” nae spoke slowly, disregarding your question. her eyes were bolting back and forth between her phone camera and sasha’s car window.

“what?” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. you set your phone down on the counter, propping your elbows onto the surface while you tried to decipher nae's expression, but that got you nowhere.

“i’m gonna send you something. just hold on a sec.”

“nae, what’s going on?” you inquired, a puzzled expression painting your face.

she didn’t reply. you pressed your lips into a thin line and closed your eyes in both confusion and frustration, strings of air passing through your nostrils. whatever nae was about to tell you was obviously nothing good. you didn't anticipate anything but the absolute worst. you opened your eyes again when your phone dinged. it was photo attachment from nae. you furrowed your brows blinked a few times before tapping it, pulling up you and your best friend's text thread. your entire body went limp when your brain registered the monstrosity on your screen. all you could do in the moment was stare in shock. it was a clear shot of miles and arielle at the party making out in some random bedroom upstairs. arielle who wouldn’t quit making moves on miles. miles who would shut down her pathetic attempts every time. arielle who’s always hated your guts without reason. miles who swore on everything that you were the only one he loved.

it was all so ironic, truly. arielle was dressed as an angel, a sparkly halo hovering above her head as if she wasn’t concomitantly sinning—shamelessly home-wrecking. and you could see it now: the embodiment of your relationship, or the so-called home you and your boyfriend shared. in your mind, it was ablaze and you were curled up all alone inside of it. you were left to succumb to the searing flames, burning to nothing ash while all that you and miles share burned beside you.

the boy would come home to the walls still burning and in the process of self-purging. he wouldn’t find you, rather the remnants of what used to be you. the ash would slip through his dirty, unfaithful fingers as they trembled in horror. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. he’d desperately try to grasp you. he’d try to save you and scoop debris into his sweaty palms so he could salvage what was left of you. still, there was nothing. there wasn't a single thing in the universe that could aid the way you felt in that moment.

now, miles would have to mourn you, for he killed you. and he didn’t even know it yet.

your eyes were squeezed shut because they had to be deceiving you. you must not be fully awake yet. the medicine must be making you hallucinate. you were dreaming. you were a hundred percent dreaming. that wasn’t miles.

how could that be miles?

“i was looking for lani and found… them instead,” nae muttered. “i don’t know if he saw me take the picture, or what. i left to tell you right after.”

you swallowed hard. though a million different thoughts were racing through your mind, none of them came to be verbal. you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, because what do you even say when something like this happens? would anything you said be enough? would any quantity of words in any given order be able you place the way you felt? unlikely. highly.

your eyes continue you gape at the photo, even though the sight was making your stomach churn. you couldn’t look away. your eyes were fixed on miles' hands on arielle's hips, then her hands cupping his cheeks. nae was still on facetime explaining whatever it was she was explaining, but you weren’t listening. her words were static to your ears. there was a pit in your stomach and it was growing deeper and deeper, your wounded heart subsiding along with it. you set your phone face down on the kitchen counter and began to clutch your stomach. you swore you were going to convulse and vomit from how ill you felt.

“[name]!” nae snapped her fingers into the mic. “yo, you still with me? i’m coming over. i’m gonna call an uber right now.”

you blinked and shook your head, flipping your phone back over and taking a deep breath. you couldn’t just shut down, not now. you had something you needed to confront. someone.

“no,” you sniffled.

you didn’t even notice the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. you quickly swiped them away with the sleeve of miles’ hoodie. the realization that it was his hoodie you had on made you freeze up again for a few seconds, and then you buried your face in the palms of your hands.

“what do you mean ‘no?’” nae frowned, bringing the speaker up to her ear in case she heard you incorrectly.

your phone dinged three times. in your notification center were text messages from the devil himself.

miles: hey ma, i’m leaving now (11:25 pm) miles: the party was okay at first but it got boring (11:25 pm) miles: i’ll be there in like fifteen ❤️ (11:26 pm)

you just stared at the messages, biting your bottom lip until it began to draw blood as a plea for you to stop. the taste was metallic in your mouth, but your teeth didn’t budge. you didn't want miles over anymore, but it was far too late to tell him to turn around. it's not like he'd check his phone while he was driving, anyway.

“i keep losing you, girl."

you had forgotten all about nae for a second, her voice grounding you back to earth. you exhaled, your breath coming out unsteady. “miles is on his way over. after i talk to him, i’ll call you and you can come over then.”

“okay, babe,” nae nodded with a gentle sigh.

“do… lani and sasha know?” “no, they don’t,” nae denied. “i wouldn’t tell them before you.”

you pressed your lips together and silence engulfed your kitchen. you let your mind wander some more. after all this was over and done with, you'd have to explain to all of your loved ones that miles cheated on you. the very thought of having to tell everyone—your family, your friends, your dad—it embarrassed you. you couldn't stomach the very thought, so you exhaled deeply, opting to take it one step at a time. nae spoke again. “listen, if you don’t call or text me in, like, an hour, ima come over there.”

“okay," you nodded.

“remember that you deserve nothing but the best of the best. i love you so much, okay?”

“i know,” you tried to convene a smile. “i love you more.”

you hung up the phone and rid of any stray tears on your face. after nae's face vanished from your screen, you were left staring at you and your boyfriend's message thread. without putting much thought into it, you began to type.

‘cool, i’m jus—'

your fingers froze. you couldn’t text miles. he didn’t deserve anything so little as acknowledgment. you repeatedly hit backspace until the bar was blank and shut off your cell.

you sat idly on one of the kitchen stools behind the counter, your instant ramen long forgotten about. in the moment, you were feeling indifferent as a result of shock. still, you knew yourself better. when miles finally confessed his sins, you’d want to scream. you’d bombard him with a million questions at once, only to angrily invalidate any explanation that passed through his adulterous lips. you’d want to burn every handwritten love letter, every piece of clothing, and every gift, because they all meant nothing now.

he was a liar, and he knew it. if you could kill a man and face no consequences, miles might’ve been gone before he even walked through your door.

while you waited for him, you sat there and tortured yourself in thought. you couldn’t help it. was this planned? was this the first time? had he always thought of her like this? did he wish you were her when he was with you?

when you’d exhausted all of those questions, you began to think back to your own actions and behavior as you scrolled up on your texts with him.

maybe i said something that upset him? but i think he would've told me... right..? or have i been distant? no, that’s not possible. we talk every day. is he bored of me? is that it? am i boring? none of these texts are showing signs of boredom, so what is it?

you'd soon resorted to flipping through the pages in your diary. you were really good about documenting your day-to-day life. if something happened with miles in the past that your brain wouldn’t let you dig up in the moment, surely you would’ve written it there. the pad of your index finger slid across the rough pages as your anguished eyes skimmed the entries. ten minutes in, you still couldn’t find a thing. you'd give anything for a straightforward answer, but you knew it wasn't going to come from miles himself.

when you heard a key grinding into the keyhole of the front door, you slammed your diary shut and jumped off of the stool, knocking it over in the process. you sprinted upstairs to your bedroom, shoving the journal under your pillow. as you trailed out of your room, you closed the door behind you and braced yourself for the worst.

you shuffled back to the kitchen and picked up the stool from the floor, setting it upright. you caught a glimpse of miles unlacing his jordans at the front door. this was real.

“hey. i thought you’d still be in bed,” miles grinned as he approached you, spreading his arms for a hug. he wasn’t in his costume, but in a red hoodie and black sweats. he must’ve gone home to change. his costume probably smelled like arielle’s designer strawberry-scented perfume, the one everyone compliments her on. she never shuts up about it.

“hi,” you whispered, accepting his hug in an attempt to seem normal. “i was, but i got hungry. how was the party?”

miles smelled like his favorite cologne, except the scent was unusually potent. it wasn't faded in the slightest like it normally was after he'd been out and around other people. the deplorable amount of effort he was making just to mask the truth infuriated you. it angered you even more that he clearly wasn't planning on telling you anything. if you hadn't seen it yourself, you might've never known.

“it was ight,” he shrugged, loosening his grip on you after a couple of seconds. you hated yourself for wanting to hug him for just a little while longer. he sure as hell didn’t deserve it, but for all you knew, that was the last time you’d be in his embrace. he let his hands fall down to your waist instead and it made you shiver on contact knowing he had his hands on arielle's waist not even a full hour ago. “would’ve been better with you there, y’know. you feelin’ okay now?"

“mostly, yeah,” you responded blandly, your throat tight and your voice fairly groggy. “still a bit tired.”

you didn’t know how to bring it up. this wasn't something you could beat around the bush about. you found yourself deep in thought. so deep to the point where you didn't notice that miles had started talking. you were busy staring off into space with half-lidded eyes, way past his gaze. he clocked it and moved his head so that your eyes were boring into his by force, his eyebrows lowering in concern.

“is everything okay?”

you cleared your throat and gently pushed his arms off your waist, stepping back as you began to blink back tears. there was no easing into it. standing there in front of miles pretending like everything was okay was already bad enough. it felt like you were twisting the knife that he plunged into your chest. eyes glossy, you swallowed hard and batted your lashes a few more times, desperately trying to rid of the tears that threatened to spill.

“i know you kissed arielle at the party,” you barely managed to speak the full sentence, your voice cracking when you spoke her name. “and i’m confused.”

miles’ eyebrows knitted to be one as if this news stunned him. you wished you could hear all his thoughts from start to finish after you spoke. you wanted to know whether he was planning to lie or tell the truth. would he gaslight you or admit to his wrongdoings? you wouldn’t find out now because you didn’t give him an option. this already hurt enough and it would end the same either way.

“nae told me. and she sent me pictures.”

silence fell between the two of you. it felt like it was eating you from the inside. the chirping of the crickets outside and the noise from the refrigerator running slightly compensated for it. not much.

“i just wanna know why you did it. and why her? why the girl that hates me with every last atom in her body?” you broke the silence, shrugging your shoulders. you were hugging your arms, rubbing them in an up-and-down motion as if you were cold.

miles was dumbfounded, guilt painting his features. he couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. you wondered what you would say if you were in his shoes, but it didn’t give you any insight because you knew you'd never do this to him, so you gave up. instead, you stared at the neat middle part in between his two signature braids that cascaded down the back of his head, down to his shoulders. you’d braided his hair only a couple days ago, back when nothing seemed impossible—nothing like now.

though he wasn’t, miles’ hair still looked clean, freshly done even. what if arielle had redone his braids for him? she did say she was practicing, and she'd made it a goal to practice on him. you mentally cursed yourself for worrying about something as minuscule as miles' braids at a time like this. you didn't want to give yourself another reason to freak, but your brain wouldn’t let you rest. not even in silence. if miles wasn’t going to give you an answer, you’d send him on his way and come up with one by yourself.

“i don’t know why i did it,” he finally retorted.

“oh, word?” you laughed humorlessly. you were trying not to slap the hell out of his shamefully beautiful face. “it happened not even two hours ago. you know why you did it. your memory is sharp, it always has been, so tell me.”

miles exhaled, rubbing the palm of his hand on his forehead. “look, she came onto me while i was grabbing a soda. it was a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing! it didn’t mean any—“

“that’s what they all say, morales,” you cut him off with a scoff. “it didn’t mean anything but somehow you traveled from the kitchen downstairs to a spare bedroom upstairs so you could swap spit without anyone catching you?!” miles tried to speak, but you cut him off again. “were you even gonna tell me? because you came up in here acting like shit was sweet as if you weren’t just making out with the girl you swore i’d never have to worry about, meanwhile, i was home, sick! a fucking cold, miles!”

“i wasn’t gonna keep it to myself. i didn’t wanna hurt you,” miles said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “it wasn’t gonna happen again, i swear.”

none of the words miles spoke were convincing enough for you in the slightest, so you disregarded them.

“did i do something to you? are you holding a grudge about something and trying to get me back?!” you yelled, your voice trembling.

“no, it has nothing to do with you!” he hollered back, squeezing his eyes shut as if he was stressed out. he had no right.

“so then why the fuck would you go and do this shit?!” you were silent for a few seconds, chest heaving up and down while your heart beat out of your chest. your breath was sprinting away from you and you were trying to catch it. "it's bad enough that you kissed another girl, but arielle?"

miles pleaded, “it was a mistake.”

“damn right it was!” you narrowed your eyes to slits. “i can’t believe i trusted you, like, seriously. you’re sick.”

“i let you down, princessa, i know, i’m—“

“sorry?” you finished his sentence, folding your arms. you were far more angry than sad now. “miles, you weren’t sorry when you were kissing her. don’t be sorry now either. you were gonna kiss me with her bright pink lipgloss dried on your lips like it was nothing. you were gonna sit here and play me like i'm stupid. you were never gonna tell me!”

miles couldn’t counter that. he knew you were right, so it was back to uncomfortable silence apart from your hefty breathing and sniffles. miles had never seen you so angry. you'd never seen yourself so angry. there was no one else to blame but miles. you had no idea where to go from there. it was only after you asked the question that you were about to ask on impulse that you realized you should’ve wrapped this up many minutes before.

“is this the only time this has happened?”

miles was hesitant, his eyes growing wider. “yes!” he spat.

miles had a tell—not just his disinclination to answer your question the way he normally would, but also the way his eyebrows would position as if he wasn’t so sure himself. his teeth would clench behind his sealed lips, but you could tell because his jaw was tight and he swallowed hard, and he wouldn’t know what to do with his hands.

you knew all of this about miles, yet you felt like you were gazing into the eyes of a stranger.

this wasn’t the miles you fell in love with.

you muttered under your breath, “you know what? i’m wasting your time... and my own. you won’t have an answer that’s both truthful and something i wanna hear. we’re done, you and i. give me the key and get the hell out.”

“mami, come on—“

“nigga, deuces! i said leave!” you snapped as you backed away from him, holding your hand out.

miles dug deep in the right pocket of his black sweats, handing you the key. you flinched when your skin made contact with his. you didn't hesitate to trap the key in the palm of your hand, dropping your arm back down by your side. miles sighed to himself and trudged to the door to lace his shoes back up. you didn't even watch him leave, opting to turn around and battle the tears threatening to spill from your eyes instead. when you finally heard the front door shut, you rushed to lock it. you turned around and pressed your back to the door, face twisted in pure disbelief.

this was real.

you slid down to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest, your cries echoing through your empty house. you’d never been more grateful that your father was gone for the weekend. miles wouldn’t have heard the end of it. at least now you had time to make up some lie to cover for miles' ass, and it'd be the last damn time.

not even five minutes passed before someone knocked on the front door three times and you sniffled. miles was going to drive you insane. “go the fuck away!”

“it’s me, baby,” a muffled voice said from outside, but it’s one you recognize, and it’s most definitely not miles.

you wiped your tears with the sleeve of miles’ hoodie and stood up, twisting the lock to open the door for your best friend. she was holding a box of pizza in her hand with a tote bag strap over her shoulder.

“you’re early,” you mumbled, one of your hands pressed against the rim of the door.

“i ubered home and got my car. when i got here, i just parked and waited,” nae pushed past you. you closed the door and locked it again, following her to the kitchen, where she set the box of pizza down on the countertop. “you wouldn’t have called me either way. i know you.”

she was right. you weren’t mad at her for being there though. she had always been so good to you.

nae walked over to the dining table and placed her tote bag in one of the chairs. “i brought your favorite type of pizza, and i stopped by the store to grab some snacks and soda. those are still in my car though, so—”

“i don’t think i can stomach anything right now,” you stated as you rubbed your arm. “i broke up with miles.”

saying that out loud felt weird. and final.

“oh, my love,” nae’s brows lowered and she shuffled over to you with open arms. she wrapped them around you and you did the same, sighing into her shoulder. you really didn't want to cry.

it hadn’t been long and you were already over feeling the way you did. you wanted to fast forward to the part where you got over miles for good. as an attempt to console you, nae was rubbing your back in a circular motion.

“you did the right thing,” she spoke lowly.

you withdrew from the hug and slightly opened your mouth, fixing to ask nae a question only god knew how to answer. “why did he do it though?”

she led you to the couch in your living room and sat you down, massaging her thumb over yours in a back-and-forth motion as your hand stayed clasped in hers. you stared down at your lap, sniffling every couple of seconds and swiping away stray tears.

“boys are just greedy, babe,” she shook her head. “so very greedy. they want it all. there are so many different reasons why people cheat. it’s difficult to pinpoint just one. my random guess is that… miles has issues?"

“issues?”

“mm-hmm,” she hummed. “internally. maybe he's insecure about himself, i don't know. whatever it is, it doesn’t justify infidelity. you were more than enough, it was him who was lacking."

“i don't get it. i mean, none of this makes any sense… unless i'm blind or stupid, it came out of nowhere. literal thin air. and when i asked, he said he didn't know why he kissed her,” you muttered.

nae sighed. “even if he isn't lying, he still did it.”

“i know,” you nodded. “and i'm sure it wasn't the first time. that’s why i left him.”

“and i’m so proud of you for that,” nae gave your hand a tight squeeze. “walking away isn’t easy for anyone. it takes forever for some people, but you did it just like that.”

“yeah, well, i kinda had to. it’s bad enough that arielle is gonna rub it in my face until we graduate, and even after that, she’ll probably find a way to .”

“there won’t be any of that,” nae promised. “miles isn’t going to take her seriously—if he even takes her at all. he lost you because of what he did with that bitch. he won’t even be able to look at her without feeling guilty.”

“she can have him, i don’t care either way,” you scoffed. that was a lie. you did care. you cared more than you’d let on if you ever even admit it.

“yeah, you do,” nae raised an eyebrow as if she had effortlessly read your mind. “let yourself feel. it’s how you’ll heal.”

“oh, i’m feeling alright. i’m weighing the pros and cons of murder,” you shakily exhaled, balling up your fists and closing your eyes. “i can’t believe this nigga. seriously.”

“i’d help you, but i’m not going to jail for him and neither are you.”

you let out a soft sigh, your gaze now fixed on your lap. the tears welling up in your eyes were beginning to cloud your vision. how someone could throw away so many years of loving one another so easily was so far beyond you.

“nae, i’ve been with miles for so long. he’s always been there—i don’t know how to be without him. he’s why i gave love a chance after swearing not to... now he’s shattered my perception of it. the worst part is i should hate him, but i don't. somehow, i still love him and—”

“hey,” nae cut you off. “that’s normal. how you feel is normal.”

you sniffled. “is it?"

“pshh, girl, yeah,” nae assured you, flicking out her wrist. “listen, breakups are terrible. you’re gonna cry and scream. you’re gonna wish you never met him. you’re going to go through old texts, swipe through old photos, and mope in his hoodies. all of that is okay. the worst thing you could ever do to yourself is force yourself not to feel,” nae paused. “if this is who he really is, then it's not your loss. i know it doesn't feel like that right now, but trust me... it just takes time. i don't know how long, but i know my best friend, so no matter how long it takes, you’ll be better than good without miles. i promise." "i'm still gonna miss him," you muttered, sniffling and drying your tears as they fell. nae wrapped her arm around you and exhaled. you sobbed into her shoulder, releasing all the pent-up frustration you'd been concealing in the name of keeping your cool. you'd never felt so inconsolable in your life. "i know, babe. i know."

❤︎₊ ⊹

it was late. 3:28am. time had never moved so slowly. you were genuinely considering calling 911 and telling them you were suffering from a heart attack. you were thoroughly convinced that this was damn near the same exact thing.

the moon wasn’t full tonight, but a waning crescent. it reflected you and how soulless and dejected you felt. the moonshine bleeding through your curtains was also the only source of light you would tolerate, the rest of your bedroom completely dark. you lay on your side facing the window, allowing the icy gusts of wind to hit your face. you were practically drowning in a sea of blankets all while still being in miles’ black hoodie.

nae was gone. she’d left about two hours ago, but not before suffocating you in countless hugs and forcing you to eat a slice of pizza and drink two glasses of water, despite your not wanting to ingest anything due to your unwavering nausea. you told her you’d be okay alone. you knew you wouldn’t and so did she, but you wanted to be alone, so she gave you your space and promised to check in on you when the sun rose. you loved nae dearly and you'd never take her for granted. you felt lucky to have such a kindhearted best friend.

you'd been in a 1v1 with your thoughts for a while now. your phone was powered off and shut away in one of your nightstand drawers to help resist urges. you hated that you wanted to call miles, but you did. you wanted to scream at him. belittle him until you just couldn’t anymore. and you wanted him to sit there and watch you do it without protest. you wanted him to be honest and tell you the truth. you wanted him to promise it would never happen again, and then you wanted to curl up under the covers of your bed with him and sob in his arms while he planted kisses on your forehead, apologizing profusely. you wanted him to tell you he loved you until you believed it again.

you couldn’t do any of that—you wouldn’t. it’d mean you have no respect for yourself. it felt like you hardly had any now, so you needed to keep the scarce amount that remained.

your thoughts were blank and sporadic all at once. you’d never been through a breakup, but you had a rough idea of how these things go, so you spent some time mapping it out in your head.

you'd eventually have to meet up to exchange one another's belongings. maybe rio would apologize on miles’ behalf and say she’d always love you. she’d call you a couple times a week. the calls would eventually come slower and grow more infrequent. soon, the calls wouldn’t come at all. even if there was the acknowledgment that rio’s arms were always open for you, they’d still feel closed. you'd treat them as such.

you'd barely eat because you couldn't stomach a single thing. you'd rot in your bed and binge all your favorite movies and shows. you'd go to war with the urge to run back to miles. you'd read old diary entries where you were gushing about how much you loved him and how amazing he was to you. you'd look back at old photos and videos. you'd reread old texts until you were sobbing so hard that you couldn't breathe.

you'd write letters that nobody was ever going to see and all the tears you shed would smudge the black ink and ruin your fancy penmanship. you'd lie to your dad and tell him that your relationship had just run its course and that you and miles needed to work on yourselves. your friends would check in on you, and of course, you'd tell them that you were okay every time, even if that was the furthest from that.

word gets around fast. when this dreadful weekend was over and monday crept up on you, you'd have to return to school and deal with the piercing stares and shameless gossip. you weren't ready for any of it, because now, everyone at school would know you as the girl who got cheated on by her long-term boyfriend for arielle. rumors would spread. words would be twisted and lies would be told, both about you and miles. in retrospect, it was all the more embarrassing for miles, but you still felt utterly humiliated. not to mention that you had no doubt in your mind that arielle was ready to run to his defense, preferably by kicking you when you're down.

sometimes, just for a fleeting moment, you'd forget about it all and your mind would go quiet. your heart wouldn't swell in longing and you wouldn't feel sick to your stomach. it never did last long before the same thoughts you desperately wanted to leave you alone started to pester you again. "but you two seemed so in love!" nosy girls at your school masking their prying motives behind what they thought were "supportive words" would soon tell you. the worst part is that you'd never know how to respond, because you thought you and miles were in love too. he was your sun and you were his moon. how could you so quickly forget that the sun didn't need the moon to shine, it was the other way around? you thought it was and always would be your heart tethered to his, but now you were left with a broken chain and a heartache.

you thought things would be different with miles. you truly did. now you knew that anyone could screw you over even if they crossed their heart. there weren't any exceptions, not anymore. miles proved that you can do everything right and still get done wrong. it wasn't fair. you should've known you weren't exempt from something like this happening, yet you still let yourself believe you were. maybe you jinxed it, or maybe you thought your case was special. maybe you thought this would never happen because you believed you were special. you only did because he made you feel that way.

you were sick and tired of brooding over your misfortune. you rolled onto your back with a frustrated groan and gaped at your ceiling, the cold air from outside still blowing against the side of your face. as exhausted as you were, sleep just wouldn't grant you sanction in its assuaging embrace.

what hurt the most is that you were so sure that you'd bagged a kind of love that was for the books. the kind of love you thought you could only dream about. though you weren't searching for him, the stars sent you miles morales. in your eyes, he was perfect. you loved and adored him, and swore he was your soulmate, made just for you. he was godsent and you never wanted to let him go, until tonight, when you learned that you were never the one who needed to hold on to begin with.

you came to the humbling conclusion that maybe the reason people told tales of faultless love was because real love was far too sickening to bear. it was merely a way to cope. nothing more, nothing less. maybe "happily ever after" had been a hoax all along. all the fairytales you had read growing up always began with “once upon a time”, but your story with miles ended with it, because loving him was easy—once upon a time.

maliland ©

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