#i just don’t see a point in ignoring actual problems | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 5 months

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can’t you see ☆ mv1

genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers

req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)

“What a fucking asshole.”

Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething.

“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”

Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled.

As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.

Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back.

“You say that every time.”

Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”

“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.”

“You’re older than both of us combined.”

“Hey!”

Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost.

“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.

“Is something funny to you?”

You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”

Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.

“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”

“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”

“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.

“Cute.”

You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”

As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2.

“Should I be worried about the rain?”

“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”

You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”

It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction.

“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”

It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.

Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined.

“Are you alright?”

Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.

“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.

“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”

Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.

“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”

“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”

It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.

“All I wanted was a warm soup.”

A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at hand.

“Hey.”

Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”

Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.

“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”

After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.

“He so likes her.”

“We might have been wrong.”

Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”

Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”

“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”

Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.

“I love a good soup!”

Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.

“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”

“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”

“Yeah, well, there’s one-”

“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.

“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”

Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”

The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.

“It’s definitely working.”

He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand.

“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”

Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.

“Watch it!”

Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression.

“What’s this hostile situation about?”

Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”

“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”

Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.

“You like her!”

“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”

“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”

It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?”

“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.

“She doesn’t like me.”

Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”

Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.

“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink.

“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”

After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.

“More soup?”

Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-

“Wanna come in?”

Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair.

“I’ve never hated you.”

You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”

“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”

He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.

But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.

“T-that’s not what I came here for-”

“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie-

Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.

It’s him.

Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”

“I might need more.”

It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more.

You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you.

He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.

“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.

“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”

Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”

“I’m so-”

Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”

A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.

“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”

“Wh-”

“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”

He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.

“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”

And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him.

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charlieeenby · 30 days

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meeting robin

the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years

warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence

“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”

Instead of responding, Batman grunted.

“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”

Another grunt from Batman.

“Batman?”

“I don’t.”

“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.

“It’s not mine.”

Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”

“Robin’s.”

Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”

Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.

“Come on, man!”

Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.

“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.

“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”

“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.

“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.

“We got that. Why is he here?”

Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.

“Help?”

This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”

“Who’s B?”

Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”

“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.

“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.

“I see. Is he alright?”

“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.

“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”

Batman grunted.

“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.

“Nothing.”

“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”

“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.

“Huh?” Barry said, confused.

“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.

“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.

Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.

The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.

For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.

Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.

“Hello. My name is Diana.”

“H-hi.”

“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.

“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”

“And are you enjoying it?”

Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.

“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.

“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”

“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.

“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”

“Four, actually.”

“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.

They got a grunt in response.

Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”

Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”

“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.

“There’s nothing to explain.”

A grunt.

“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.

“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.

“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.

Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.

“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.

“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.

“Tell that to Agent A.”

Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.

“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.

She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”

Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.

“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.

“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.

“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”

“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.

Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.

“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.

“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.

“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.

“Yes.”

“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”

Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”

“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.

Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.

“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”

Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.

“Hey, Supes!”

“Who are you?” he asked, confused.

“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.

“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”

Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.

He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.

“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”

He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?

“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.

“We’re still working on that.”

Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”

The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”

Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”

“Hi. What’s going on?”

“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”

Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”

Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”

At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.

“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”

“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.

Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”

A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.

“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.

“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.

Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.

“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”

“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”

“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.

“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.

As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”

Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.

Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.

“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.

Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”

Clark stopped. “Huh?”

“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.

“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”

Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”

Batman sighed at that.

“Did he really?” Clark asked.

“Yes. But he’s fine now.”

“Am I?”

Batman groaned.

#batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #justice league #miscommunication #humor #fluff #my work

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helluvapoison · 2 months

Text

Feelings

imagine being another fallen angel and experiencing lust for the first time

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI

warning: nsfw but no smut, slight but unintentional corruption kink,

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Unlike the other emotions, this one crept up on you slowly. It lied in wait most of the time, only revealing itself around Lucifer. Truthfully the feeling came so infrequently that you didn’t think to worry about it, forgot about it even. Then his hand would linger on your waist or he missed your cheek, placing a kiss on your neck and a tiny flame ignited deep inside you. You accepted his stammered apologies but the feeling did not.

The warmth itself was uncomfortable solely for the reason of being new, it never hurt! Not like this.

“I think I’m hurting again.”

The calmness of your voice shouldn’t have alarmed him but Lucifer jumped to action before you finished talking, worried eyes scanning you over as they always did. Without hesitation, he took your hand when you were close enough and sat next to you on the couch. Little did he know his touch on your knee scorched you.

“Where is it this time, darling?”

“Here,” You unabashedly gestured over your stomach.

Lucifer’s voice pitcher higher, cooing,“Hungry? I can have Alfredo whip you up—“

“We don’t need to bother Alfonzo. I’m not hungry.”

His brows pinched together in confusion.

“But you said..?”

“Here.”

You enveloped his wrist and guided it up your thigh. About an inch away, where the warmth bloomed stronger with his touch, as if drawing him near, Lucifer snatched his hand away. His pupils shrunk to slits, wings audibly popping out as he jumped. His fingers that had almost grazed you had stretched and closed taught, remaining a fist.

“Oh! Oh! Oh shit.”

His reaction pulled a downright pitiful expression from you. Lucifer drew in a deep breath, calming himself and folding his feathers away. Awkwardly, a different kind than what you were used to regarding him, he sat back down. You couldn’t not notice how far he sat from you, how he folded his hands in his lap and refused to make eye contact. Hell hadn’t made a liar of you yet; you were hurt by this.

“I-I don’t think I can help you with this one, sweetheart,” Lucifer swallowed thickly, curling a finger into his collar and tugging on it, “I-I-I don’t even think I gave Charlie ‘the talk’! That wouldn’t be…”

You tried to be patient, stars did you try, but while he took his time you were being burnt alive from the inside out! You knew you needed something from him and he was unfailingly the answer. Lucifer had never denied you before, outright or not.

“You said you felt everything down here,” You pointed out.

Leaning in on your hands, you tilted your head and searched for what he refused to share. His face blushed brighter and harder than before. Embarrassment wasn’t right. It almost looked as if he was praying for an escape.

“You’re ashamed?”

Lucifer blew a raspberry, crimson slits darting all around, deliberately avoiding where you sat, “No! Nope, no shame over here!”

If not him… then perhaps it was you? Could you drive the King of Hell to shame? Surely not, how arrogant of you to even dream of it. Yet the question rolled off your tongue before you could stop it.

“Have I done som—“

With a jolt he sits up rigid and serious, desperately trying to keep what little distance remained. You were a breath away, staring into his eyes with such adoration it made your problem that much harder to ignore.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. This—This is just… I can’t be the one to help you with this.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help.

He did. Desperately so. Disgustingly so.

He could sink his claws and teeth into you right fucking now and make you feel better— better than better! It was heart stopping, the idea that he could be the one to show you what pleasure is like actually made him breathless. Fuck, how he wanted to see how your face when he brought you to your peak. Your moans would be a symphony to behold, his name on your lips would be his new favorite song. The thought of being your first and only clouded his mind with desire.

He would claim you truly if you’d have him. And the look in your eyes told him you would.

But would it be right? Lucifer’s had plenty of experience, he’s not worried about disappointing you— however you regretting him afterwards? It might kill him.

“But I want you to,” The sincerity in your voice sent his heart racing, “It only happens around you—“

“You—“ Lucifer chuckled nervously, shaking his head, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Briefly, you shot him a warning glare before softening your expression. You cautiously grabbed his hips, slowly so he could deny you if he really wanted. (Never again.)

“I know what I’m feeling. I know you’re responsible.”You counter slyly, maneuvering him into your lap, “I know I don’t want it to go away.”

Lucifer swallowed hard on nothing, staring obviously at your lips as you spoke with lidded eyes.

“I thoug-thought you said it hurt.” He choked.

“I’m starting to understand why. I need you—“ His breath hitched when you ground up against him, holding him firmly in place to feel his hard on, “—to do something about it.”

Clutching your shirt like his life depends on it, he whines. You’re putting his restraint to the test.

And he’s about to fail.

“Please? You’re always so good at making me feel better when I’m hurting, Luci.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar smut #lucifer morningstar x reader smut

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bettysupremacy · 3 months

Note

hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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nonexistent-introvert · 10 months

Text

Alternate Reminder

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Miguel has trouble trying to treat you fairly when you remind him too much of what he had lost. Angst, misunderstanding.

A/N: I havent truly proofread this so I'm sorry. This took super long.

Part 2

Miguel thought you were special. He thought it was maybe the universe giving him a second chance when he saw you. His first love and his beautiful wife, standing in front of him while wearing a Spiderman suit. Maybe, he was destined to be with you, after all, a universe where you could understand him. A universe where he could finally be happy with you and Gabriella, a universe that he actually belonged to and he didn’t have to worry about destroying a whole universe just to be with you.

The only problem? This version of you had zero ideas of who Miguel O’Hara is. Miguel thought it was a canon event, for the both of you to fall in love. In most universes he had been to, you were with Miguel. In most, you were happy and had a family with him. In the more unfortunate universes, things didn’t work out between the two of you. The only thing that was unchanged was that Miguel and you were bound to find and fall in love with each other at one point.

However, Miguel hated your guts. His amor was sweet, responsible, and well-organized. You were the complete opposite of that. You were rude, irresponsible, and very messy as a person. He dared say that you were the messiest person he had ever met. There was no sign of organisation at your workstation. Papers were messily stacked on top of each other or swept across the desk. The mini shelf you had beside your desk was filled with books that were all falling to one side, some had completely collapsed. More files were squeezed on top of the books. Miguel’s greatest pet peeve was seeing the bent and folded pages being shoved into a file. The urge to help you reorganize was almost too big for him to handle causing the frustration to build up and was let out onto you instead. Miguel groaned as he met eye contact with you while he was buying his morning coffee. It was almost insulting to him how you had the same exact face as her, the woman he falls for in every universe.

On the opposite side of the same coin, you loathed Miguel O’Hara. He was bossy, pompous, and couldn’t take a single joke. Any conversation you have had with him ended up in the both of you arguing. Sarcasm was something everyone around you had gotten used to, except for Miguel of course who never seemed to catch on. He would simply give you a judgemental stare before giving a literal answer which you would roll your eyes at. At that point, Miguel would think that you’re being rude, and depending on his mood that day, he would either scold you or scoff at you.

“Just get over it, you’re always mad at Miguel anyways. I thought you would get used to it by now.” Gwen sighed, giving you the same response every time you ranted about Miguel. “It’s not like you don’t know the big guy,” Hobie said nonchalantly, having long gotten used to your rants about Miguel. “You hate him, we get it.” Pavitr groaned, complaining for the umpteenth time about how you always seemed to be talking about Miguel. Gwen chuckled, “If you didn’t point out every single flaw of his so heartlessly every time you rant about him, I would think you have a crush on Miguel or something.” Gwen said. “Hell no. I’m not fucking blind.” you defended, offended she would even think this way. “You gotta admit, big boss is quite the looker, too bad he’s a prick.” Hobie pointed out. “Speak of the devil,” Pavitr warned, straightening up as he stared at Miguel who was walking to your table’s direction.

You merely glared in his direction. Gwen was right, you should be used to him by now. He shouldn’t be getting under your skin so easily. So why can’t you just ignore him? Why does your mind always drift to him when you’re alone, why do you realise when he was due for a haircut? How his hair curls at the end when he lets his hair grow, how he reaches 10 minutes early to any appointment, and how he would get his coffee at exactly 9am in the morning. You shook your head, riding yourself off those thoughts. There was no way you actually had some sort of attraction to him right? Your mind drifted to the fight you had with him 5 days ago, his words still causing a dull ache in your heart. The both of you always fought but you were sure Miguel was going to kick you off the team until he called your friends the next day and gave you a mission through them while also completely disregarding your presence if he saw you around after.

===================

“Mind your own business!” Miguel exclaimed, you flinched at his harsh tone. “I was just-” “Who said you could touch my property?” Anger was practically the only emotion in his voice as he pushed you to the side. “Lyla told me you were having some troubles, that your screens had some kind of issue-” You gritted out, closing your eyes to calm yourself too. You only had good intentions to fix the issues he was fixing and now you were being accused of invading his privacy. You couldn't even remember any of the files that appeared on the screen while you were fixing his terrible code. Too focused on solving the technical errors to be poking your nose into his business. “I don’t need your help,” He seethed. “She was going to help you, Miguel. You have been complaining about it and even I can’t help you, you very well know she’s the only one equipped with the knowledge to fix this.” Lyla defended you. The fury in Miguel’s eyes scared you as well, “You need to mind your own business as well.” He snarled to Lyla before turning to you, switching off the orange screens completely. “I would rather let everything burn to hell than trust you to fix anything. You’re a fucking mess if you didn’t realize. ” Miguel spat.

It was your last straw. You had more self-respect than let anyone speak to you like that. “Kick me off, fucking kick me off already. You hate me anyways, right? So why do you bother keeping me around?”

“Get out!” Miguel bellowed and you didn’t need him to repeat himself. You took off the watch on your wrist and threw it to the floor, letting it break into pieces. In that moment, his words hurt you more than glitching ever would.

============

Peter found you at a bar in your universe that day. You downed another glass of whiskey at the sight of Peter, you were in too bad of a mood to talk to anyone now and you know you would regret it if you lashed out at him.

Peter didn’t say anything, simply sitting beside you and staring as you downed one glass after another.

Peter ordered a drink, taking sips of his drink as he decided on the best approach to talk to you. Your anger was practically radiating off you, making everyone else stir clear of you.

“He’s all bark no bite.” Peter started. You scoffed lightly, letting the silence fall between the both of you. You turned to peter, feeling bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “You heard already huh.” Peter simply shrugged, “Word travels fast. Practically the whole society knows.” You downed another glass at that, you wondered how much the story had changed as it was passed from one person to another. It was probably a field day at headquarters.

“There is barely anyone at headquarters, Miguel has been bringing hell to anyone he even makes eye contact with,” Peter answered as though he could read your thoughts. You had to bite back your words, to tell Peter that you really couldn’t care less about Miguel now nor did you need the company. Silence fell between the both of you, Peter lightly bobs his head to the music that was playing in the bar to relieve the tension that was building up. He was never one for tense situations. “You know, you’re not really that different from Miguel.” Peter immediately put his hands up in defense when you practically growled at his comment. “Well, it’s just that both of you would rather die than talk about your emotions. Thankfully, I managed to crack Miguel so I think I can do it for you too.” Peter confidently stated. You remained silent, swirling the whiskey in your hand. You didn’t trust yourself to not lash out at Peter, especially when he’s practically comparing you to Miguel. The man you hated in all of the multiverse

“Hm, silence. Miguel screamed at me when we reached this point.” Peter observed, laughing nervously at the memory of his talk with Miguel. “I guess I’ll just go on first then.” Peter wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sure Miguel didn’t mean anything. You just hit a sore spot.” You scoffed again, “What? By trying to fix his stupid system?”

Peter took another swig, he definitely needed the alcohol. “Do you not know about what is on those screens? One that probably popped up while you were fixing it.” “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t snooping on him. I was focused on the system itself.” You defended. Peter cringed ever so slightly at your response. “There is this girl on the screen, the one with a happier, better-looking Miguel.” Peter took another swig, this really wasn’t his story to tell. You pursed your lips, you did remember seeing the footage that Peter mentioned. You had to force yourself to look away, that you were invading his privacy.

“That’s his daughter.” Peter finished, trying to gauge your reaction. You simply preserved a blank look and Peter groaned slightly, he detested how stubborn you were. “Miguel found a universe where he had a family and was happy, but him in that universe had an accident so he replaced himself. Some butterfly effect happened and the whole universe collapsed on itself and he lost everything.” Peter explained. You finished your drink, everyone has lost someone. You understood why it was a sore spot but it doesn’t justify being a total asshole.

“Miguel didn’t mean anything he said to you. It was just- tough.” Peter finished. “I didn’t even do shit Peter, just decided to fix his system and he accused me of invading his fucking privacy. It’s not like he’s the only one who lost someone. We all did.” Peter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “He just fucking hates my guts and I don’t know why? He literally told most people about my past when he explains about anomalies so why is he so mad when I know about it?”

“Because you have the same name and face as his wife, the woman who he falls for in every universe.” Your jaw dropped at the information. You couldn’t ever fathom the thought of you and Miguel even being in love. The anger in you simmered ever so slightly. It would explain how his features softened when he sees you sometimes, the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stares at you for too long. A stranger with memories, that is what you are to Miguel. Miguel tries his best to treat you like others. It was exceptionally tough when you shared the same name and face as the woman he had spent his happiest moments with. “He never told me,” you told Peter. Peter shook his head, “No one was allowed to tell you. Not like many people knew anyways. He didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble. You know how he is, he doesn’t like it when people try to share his burdens.” You pursed your lips, cursing out your alcohol tolerance. It was times like this you wished you could just forget everything. “It doesn’t matter. Miguel probably wants me out of his life.” Peter threw his hands up frustratedly. “If he wants you out he wouldn’t send me here to tell you about everything.” Peter admitted. Peter was worried when he heard the news of you and Miguel having a fight which is what brought him to talk to Miguel. Peter wouldn’t be able to find you by himself, only Miguel could. You closed your eyes, you had enough of everyone. You were so exhausted, everything has been so draining.

“Just leave me alone alright?” You said, stumbling out of your seat slightly before leaving the bar and Peter behind.

======================================

“The anomaly was caught. We ensured there were no loose ends. Everything should be fine.” You reported to Miguel. Your hands were behind your back, there was a blank look on your face. Miguel bit his lip slightly at your cold demeanor toward him. He used to complain about you taking things too lightly. When you would stroll into his office with a grin, confidently telling him all the details of the mission even if it was insignificant. Now, you told him the bare minimum with a professional tone and stand.

Miguel used to complain and bluntly tell you that he didn't care for some of the details you told him after. Details like you and Gwen dropped by a Mcdonald's to grab some fries or that you also managed to finish a recent show. Now he wishes you would tell him, instead of you acting like this., all quiet and serious. Miguel took a deep breath, staring at you as the platform descended. He looked away slightly, knowing things were still tense between the two of you. “Sorry about that the other day. I was not in the right place.” He apologised, forcing himself to meet your eye. Your expression was still blank, “It’s fine.” You brushed it off like you hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. “If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave now.” You told him, bowing slightly as you turned. Miguel flinched at the tone. “Wait.” He wanted to stop you from leaving. Then his head turned to the orange screens behind him that glitched every so often. “Would you-” Miguel hesitated, thinking if this was the best move.”

“I- can you help me fix the screens?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I promise I won’t lash out at you.” Miguel weakly joked. You simply nodded, stepping up onto his platform. Miguel stared at you, you were so unlike yourself. There were no teasing comments, no laughter, not even a hint of a smile. You stood in front of his screens, diligently and skillfully opening and typing away a new code. Miguel shifted and fidgeted behind you, he was wrecking his mind for a conversation topic. You were the one who usually initiated or continued the conversations. His mind replaying all the conversations he had with you. A smile tugged on his lips, music was your common ground with him. He remembered how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your favorite songs.

“I recently got into classical music.” Miguel shared. Miguel was half-convinced that he wouldn’t get a reply when you let his words hang in the air while you focused on the task at hand. “Oh? Mahler?’ You finally replied. His eyes widened. “How did you know?” He was greeted with silence again and only then did he appreciate how quick your responses used to be. “I just want to know, because you seemed really confident about it. Did I tell you?” Miguel filled the silence himself. “I just saw it.” You gestured to the screens. He nodded, letting the tense silence take over again. You were never so quiet, he never had to deal with this uncomfortable silence when he was with you.

“You changed.” Miguel blurted out. There was no response from you as you continued working on the screens. You didn’t know how to respond either. The news about you being an alternate version of his wife, it was rather overwhelming. You used to spite him and annoy him just for the fun of it, but after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore. His gaze made you self-conscious now, of what he thought of you, and nor did you want a repeat of what happened that day. You did a lot of thinking the past few days and you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate Miguel O’Hara. You couldn’t hate him. The thought of him hating you, it was terrifying.

“What?” You muttered, Miguel barely caught onto your response. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down. “Look, I’m really sorry for that day and I know I can’t take back anything but I really hope you don’t distance yourself from me because of that.” Miguel swallowed, it was publicly known that the both of you never seemed to get along but the thought of you becoming cold to him made him shiver to his core. “You’re overthinking things.” You stated plainly, forcing out a laugh. Miguel sighed, “You just seem, very different. Let’s not even talk about our interactions. You have just been more distant with everyone, you’re taking things way too seriously and well, you’re a lot more well organised now. The biggest shame was losing the constant smile, boosted many of their morale even in the most difficult of times.” you swallowed bitterly, debating internally if you should snap at Miguel right now while you stared at the screens before you. “I had to work on not being a mess right?” You answered, quoting his exact words. Miguel’s eyes flashed with a hint of pain and you knew it was a low blow. He had already apologised, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. But those words haunted you even till now.

“You really changed huh?” Miguel continued. He didn’t expect you to use his words against him. When you know that he regrets it, it was a low move even for you. “It’s done.” You announced, ignoring his comment towards you. Your patience was thinning again. He merely glanced towards the screens before looking at you again. “You’re not the person I knew,” Miguel stated plainly. You turned your head to him.

“I’m not the woman you had in mind, Miguel! I’m not your fucking wife and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You looked away, running your hands through your hair in distress. “I never was. I’m sorry I remind you of her but I’m not her.” You snapped at him. Walking out of his office. Everything made sense now. Miguel would be annoyed and frustrated with you most times, but there were times that he acted differently towards you. The times when he had carried you to a more comfortable place when you had fallen asleep on your table, the jackets that he had given to you to keep you warm still hung in your closet. The late-night conversations where he was more vulnerable towards you and had conversations with you about your interests while you hung from the ceiling, claiming that it helped you stay awake while you sift through the paperwork with him. You found it weird how he could hate your guts one second but be even sweet to you when it was just the two of you. At one point, you even thought you had fallen for Miguel O’Hara.

You shook your head, ignoring Miguel behind you as you rid the thought of even entertaining a possibility with Miguel. He never treated you as you are, he never liked you for who you are.

You simply shared a face and name with the woman he was destined to fall for.

You chuckle at how foolish you were while you stepped on the watch that Peter had given to you as replacement for your old one.

“I fucking quit.” You announced to a surveillance camera in the hallway, knowing fully well that he is monitoring the camera for your whereabouts now.

Miguel angrily swept the files off his table, growling out in frustration. He buried his face in his hands, he never saw you as the woman who he had fallen for and had Gabriella with. Sure, there were a few times your identical looks made his heart pace with what could have been. However, Miguel had started spending more time with you and getting to know you as a person. In those times, he reckoned he enjoyed it too much.

There was no way he was falling for you right?

Was there a point even if he did? You had already left him.

Miguel O'Hara always messes up his own happiness. That seems more like his canon event than falling in love with you.

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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veganineden · 9 months

Text

On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”

A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2

One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?

In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are.

So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”?

My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.”

If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression.

Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity.

Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity.

You know who does?

Aziraphale.

And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.)

In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.

I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation.

Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”

So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.”

And most likely a cottage.

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

- Maya Angelou

Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.

#good omens 2 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #ineffable advocacy #ineffable partners #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #nothing lasts forever #liked by Neil Gaiman

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stuckinapril · 3 months

Note

what red flags should i look for in a man?

I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, or any human being across the board. Ok so:

When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.

Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.

Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.

People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.

Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.

If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.

Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.

It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.

Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.

This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.

Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.

People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.

Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.

The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.

#it’s fucking rough out there. take care #ask #r

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oliviawebsite · 4 days

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one more call for help as i get my shit together

hello hello, it is me again asking for help getting to my next "life checkpoint" as it were. i am starting a new full time job this tuesday and am relieved to be at the end of my unemployment saga. the tricky thing is that i don't get a paycheck until may 3rd and thats only going to account for one half of a full pay period. the problem of course is that rent and quite a few other hefty bills are due for me on or before the 1st. i will need some help paying rent especially because my first paycheck wont be enough to cover it in full. i also need help buying food, medicine, and paying for train rides to and from the city (about $9 usd for a round trip) so i can actually show up to this place and get it all right. i'm proud of myself for getting here and incredibly thankful for the help i have received along the way. this is hopefully my final push for financial help for the foreseeable future since this job pays well and is guaranteed to be full time and is well-backed by a reputable organization. whatever you give, even if its just a few bucks, helps. a few bucks could buy me an extra meal! im setting a goal of around $600 and i think that should be enough to stay comfortable until my paychecks are self sustaining.

$0/600

if u see this post on or after the 17th of may, 2024 please ignore it and do not donate as i will be getting full paychecks by this point and will no longer be in need of assistance

you can also support by buying some of my music on bandcamp:

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marvelsmylife · 1 month

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We’re going to be ok

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: when word gets back to Azriel that you’re planning on leaving the night court after the kitchen incident, Azriel will stop at nothing until he convinces you stay and confesses why he’s been avoiding you.

A/n this is part two to Jealous Mate. I made a movie reference in this part. Five points to anyone who catches it and writes the movie I’m referencing.

*Correction* There are actually two references in this part. One is a movie reference the other is a book reference.

Part one

Azriel refused to be around you for two weeks after the kitchen incident. He was too ashamed that he just left without saying a single word to you. He knew what he was currently doing was making things worse, but he couldn’t face you after he heard you say you were giving up on him. It wasn’t until Rhysand called him into his office to scold him for his actions that he realized how badly he messed up: “Rhys, I know-.”

“No, you don’t know,” Rhysand cut Azriel off: “You avoiding your mate is causing nothing but problems within our inner circle. Do you ever plan on talking to her?” Azriel was so ashamed of his actions that he refused to speak.

Taking his silence as an answer, Rhysand spoke up again: “Very well. Since you won’t give me the decency to respond. Then this news I’m about to tell you won’t bother you.” Rhysand inhaled sharply before adding: “Y/n is leaving the night court. She asked if she could stay at the day court with Helion, and he happily agreed. If you’d like to say goodbye to her, you better do it fast. She’s at the house of wind packing as we speak.”

The color drained from Azriel’s face at the news you were leaving the night court. He couldn’t believe that he had driven you to not only leave the home you shared but also drive you out of the night court entirely. “You can’t allow her to leave !” panic was laced in Azriel’s tone: “She belongs here with us, with me. I’m her mate, and I’m not allowing this to happen, Rhysand !! !”

“She has free will. She can do whatever she pleases. Let her go and let her live her life in peace.”

Azriel felt his chest tightening at Rhysand’s words. He knew Rhysand was right, but he couldn’t let you go, not when he’s yet to tell you how he truly feels about you. “No,” Azriel said firmly: “I’m not letting her leave. At least not until I talk to her.”

Not giving Rhysand a chance to respond, Azriel fled to the house of wind to see if he could catch you before you left.

Luck was on his side. Your smell lingered in the house when he arrived and immediately walked towards your room. He had no idea what he was going to say. He was never really good with words. Not bothering to knock, Azriel entered your room and noticed that more than half of your stuff was already packed. “Can I help you?” you asked while you packed your clothes.

Azriel remained silent as he looked around and spotted something from the corner of his eye: “Is that?” Azriel swallowed hard when he noticed a pressed flower on your desk.

You looked toward where Azriel was staring and sighed: “The rose you gave me when I first moved in? Yes. Yes, it is.”

You were about to throw it in the trash when Azriel stopped you and took your hands into his: “Please don’t go,” Azriel begged: “I know I haven’t been a good mate, but I can’t let you go.”

“Azriel, don’t.” you said firmly: “You’re being mean.” There was hurt in your eyes when you registered what Azriel had said, and all Azriel wanted to do was comfort you. “You do not have the right to ask that from me. Not when I’ve tried to get close to you, but all you’ve done was push me away.” You tried to get out of his grip, but he only held you tighter. “Do you know how excited I was to meet and get to know you when we first met? I was so excited to share everything about my life and was eager to get to know you, but after the first week, you started to ignore me. I just wanted to talk, but you wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence while we live together,” you paused for a moment, trying so hard not to cry in front of Azriel but failed miserably. “Look, if you’re not going to put any effort into our relationship as mates, then I’m going to leave because being around you while you ignore me hurts me physically, mentally, and emotionally ! ! !”

It was Azriel’s turn to feel the way you’ve been feeling for the past couple of months, feeling rejected, and he’ll never forgive himself for making you feel this way for so long. “No! !” Azriel looked at you in disbelief: “I just- you can’t go. I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were better off without me. You deserve better than me. I-” Azriel paused to contemplate if he should continue explaining. “I didn’t want to accept the bread you made with Cassian because if I did that would’ve meant you accepted the bond between us, and I didn’t want you to feel shackled to me for the rest of your life. But seeing you pack and saying you’re leaving makes me want to be selfish and tell you to stay. Stay with me and I promise I’ll be a better mate. I’ll eat whatever you make so I can accept the bond.”

“Azriel-“ you paused: “I didn’t and still don’t care about your past. You can’t allow your past to dictate your future.” Azriel knew you were right, and he was going to tell you when you continued: “Look, I’ll stay, but I’m not going to bake or cook you anything, not yet. You have to earn my forgiveness, and maybe then I’ll accept the bond in the future.”

“I’m ok with that. I’ll wait a thousand years if I have to, just as long as I still have you in my life.” You found yourself crying again at Azriel’s words.

Azriel looked down at you and wiped away the tears that were running down your cheeks: “No more crying, especially over me,” before he placed a kiss on your forehead: “You’re ok. We are going to be ok.”

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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ellecdc · 2 months

Note

can i request angst with sirius 🥲 like where reader finds out he only dated her for a bet 🧍‍♀️my hyperfixation on this trope is sickening and i hope to hear mother elle’s take on this 🙏🩷

ughhhhh I think maybe you guys hate me??? what's with the angst, my loves? why are we doing this to me? Listen: I wrote your Sirius Black dating reader for a bet..............but I made it a miscommunication trope/hurt-comfort I'M SORRY I COULDN'T DO IT. I get angst, truly, but I didn't want Sirius to actually be mean to us 😢 hope this works for you 🫶

Sirius Black x fem!reader CW: perceived bullying, miscommunication trope, hurt/comfort

Sirius Black was many things. He was a wizard, he was an animagus, he was a disinherited heir to a Pureblood family, he was a Gryffindor, he was a flirt and a friend.

One thing Sirius Black was not was a coward.

“Then go ask her out.” Peter said plainly.

Sirius scoffed. “I will do no such thing.”

“Why not?” Remus asked with a smirk. “You like her, you can’t stop staring at her, and you find every excuse in the book to be in her vicinity other than ask her out.”

“I don’t understand what your hang up is.” James added. “You’ve never had a problem asking girls out before.”

“I don’t have any hang up’s, Prongsie. I’ve never had and still don’t have a problem asking girls out.”

“Good.” Remus jumped in quickly. “So go ask her out.”

“No.” Sirius said petulantly.

Peter’s expression grew into a mischievous smirk as he shared a knowing look with his two other friends. “Let’s make a bet then.”

This caught Sirius’ attention. “I’m listening.”

“If you don’t ask Y/N out on a date, you have to do my Astronomy homework for two weeks.” Peter offered.

Sirius scoffed. “I fail to see how this bet benefit’s me at all.”

“Well, ignoring the fact that you’d have a date with the girl of your dreams; if you do ask her out, I will do your Ancient Runes homework for two weeks.” Peter bargained.

Well…Sirius couldn’t deny that those stakes were pretty beneficial to him.

And he could really use the help in Ancient Runes.

“Petey, my boy. You’ve got yourself a deal.” He proclaimed with a smirk as he marched his way across the library to where you were sitting.

But by the time he got over to you…all words left his brain.

Why was this so difficult for him? He had a reputation as Hogwarts' Ladies Man. You were a lady – why couldn’t he talk to you!?

“Hello Sirius.” You greeted him warmly, putting the dumb sod out of his misery.

“Uhm, er, hi Y/N!” He returned awkwardly, grimacing at the delivery himself. You had the good graces just to smile at him, though. Gods he was a goner.

He heard snickering behind him from his friends and your eyes nervously darted over to the group.

“Uhm, was…was there something I could help you with?” You asked nervously, eyes moving between Sirius and his friends as you played nervously with the quill in your hands.

“Uhm, no. Well, yes actually, you see…I was wondering if perhaps you might want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me, at some point. No pressure though…” He rambled, trailing off awkwardly and grimacing once again.

You chuckled nervously, but kept your eyes locked on his friends.

“Sirius, is…is this a prank?”

Sirius felt all colour drain from his face.

Oh gods. Between his awkwardness and his friends all giggling like schoolgirls behind him paired with the fact they are known for their mischief, you thought he was pranking you!?

“Oh gods. Y/N, no! No, ugh, I’ve really mucked this up.” He groaned as he slumped down into a chair beside you. “It’s just…the wankers” he said, motioning to said wankers behind him, “know I’ve been uncharacteristically nervous about asking you out for a while now. They’re just having a go at me.”

“Sirius Black? Nervous? To ask me out?” You scoffed. “Do you take me as a fool, Black?”

“No! No, Merlin, please, believe me – one date, okay? One date to prove I’m not the tosser I apparently look like right now.” He begged. Begged! Sirius Black had been diminished to begging.

He was never going to live this down.

You narrowed your eyes and surveyed Sirius’ form whilst Sirius fought the urge to shield himself from your piercing gaze. Your eyes flit over to his friends before decision seemed to paint your features.

“Fine.” You said, “one date at Hogsmeade, this weekend.”

The way you were speaking made it sound like a formal business transaction, but Sirius beamed at you feeling slightly bolder in the face of (reluctant) agreement on your part, standing from his chair.

“You won’t regret it! I’ll meet you in the courtyard, Saturday morning – 10 am!” He called as he walked backwards towards his friends, only stumbling into one stray chair on his way.

Sirius could tell you were fighting the urge to smile or laugh, and even though you would have been laughing at him, it still felt like a win in his books.

The Hogsmeade date was a success. In fact, you had to admit it was one of the best dates you’ve ever been on. You had been friendly enough with Sirius from your shared classes and such – but your interactions had never exceeded as much as a polite “hello” from either party. You always figured that was for the best – considering those who found themselves to be too familiar with the Marauders were often victims of their many pranks.

You only knew the Sirius Black that the rest of the school knew:

Mischief maker, Gryffindor, quidditch beater, flirt, a player, and anti-all-the-things-that-his-family-stood-for. Some of those things were bad, whilst others were good. But you had no idea that this Sirius Black existed.

The Sirius Black that was an amazing listener, who held doors open and pulled chairs out for you, who made you feel as though every word coming out of your mouth was the most fascinating thing he ever heard, who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt, who seemed to be able to fill any lull in the conversation with ease.

You hated to admit it, but…you sort of liked this Sirius Black.

After a nice day of window shopping, actual shopping, butterbeer’s and scenic strolls through the picturesque town, you made your way back to Hogwarts. Sirius bid you farewell by kissing your knuckles (you actually think you might have swooned a little bit) and asked if you’d be so inclined to make this a “regular thing.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You tried to say noncommittally, though you were sure the grin on your face gave away your enthusiasm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He asked as he walked backwards towards his friends, face turning a little shy.

You couldn’t help but take the piss for it. “We live in the same castle, Black. I’m sure you’ll see me tomorrow.”

“Cheeky minx.” He called back, though his face remained soft as he shot a wink at you before turning towards his friends.

You started to head towards the castle but watched as Remus pat him on the back and James’ cheered at his friend’s reunion.

Before you got too far away, you overheard a part of their conversation. Remus asked if he had enjoyed himself, James asked if the two of you were going to do it again, but it was what you heard Peter say that made your heart drop to your stomach.

“So? Was the bet worth it, did you have a nice time?”

A bet…had a nice time, because of a bet?

He made a bet…he asked you out…because of a bet.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You knew better.

You felt sick, you felt foolish, you felt betrayed.

He really was a player; he really was a flirt. He made you feel so special today, and it was all just an act?

How could you be so naïve?

How could you have believed his whole “I’ve been so nervous to ask you out” bit. You’ve seen him at parties – you’ve seen him with other girls.

You were such an idiot.

Sirius had really enjoyed himself yesterday. He had to continuously wipe his hands on his jeans as they were clammy with nerves all day, but generally he felt he handled himself okay.

At least, as good as could be considering he’d completely lost the ability to keep his fucking cool around a pretty girl.

So, maybe he hadn’t been as smooth as he normally was. But he didn’t think he’d been so bad as to have elicited this reaction from you.

You barely spared him a glance as you marched past him in the Great Hall the following morning, shouldering him as you headed to sit with your friends.

You…you had enjoyed yourself yesterday, right? When the two of you parted, you’d actually expressed interest in seeing him again.

So, why were you ignoring him?

He figured perhaps you just hadn’t noticed him or mistaken him for someone else or some other such thing as he took his place at the Gryffindor table, but not before he spared one more glance at you.

You looked painfully dejected and one of your friends placed a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. She was also glaring at Sirius.

What had he done?

He had gotten up to go over and ask you, but if he thought he had been intimidated to talk to you before – his intimidation was increased ten-fold at the withering glares your friends all cast at him.

He’d just have to find a chance to chat with you alone.

That chance never came, however, as you seemed to have an entourage escorting you to all of your classes that Monday.

But by the following evening, he couldn’t take it anymore – wouldn’t take it anymore. He’d had a nice time, dammit! And he wanted to enjoy time with you again!

“Are you lost, Black?” One of your friends goaded him as he approached your table in the library. He sucked in a steadying breath as he focused his sights on you. You, who sat unbelievably tense but still never lifted your head from your quill and notebook.

“Y/N? Could we talk for a moment?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Another friend answered for you.

As politely as he could – which was becoming increasingly difficult due to his frayed nerves – he addressed your friend. “With all due respect, Bones, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“No, you were talking to Y/N, right? Why? Did your friends make another bet with you?” She sneered.

Sirius felt his heart fall out of his arse.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You…you mean Pete’s bet?”

You laughed humourlessly and threw your quill down in front of you. “Why? Was there more than one bet, Black?” You spat, finally turning to face him. He was horrified to see your eyes were red and glassy – you were close to crying.

“No! No, Circe, I-”

“Oh good,” your friend said sarcastically, “there was only one bet. Guess that’s not so bad then.”

“Y/N, please, you have to listen I-”

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” James said as he moved towards Sirius, apparently only having just arrived in the library. Sirius was sort of horrified to notice that some of the surrounding students had turned in their chairs to witness the ultimate downfall of Sirius Black.

That’s right - fuck being formally and officially disowned by his family – this was the undoing of Sirius Orion Black.

“What’s going on is Y/N found out about your lot’s stupid bet.” Your friend announced. Sirius could feel James’ confused face beside him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face as he watched a single tear roll down your cheek.

“Pete’s bet?” James asked dumbly.

“Yes! Yes, Pete’s bet!” Sirius shouted. He got down on his knees and kneeled in front of you, willing your eyes to him. You denied him the sight, but he supposed he sort of deserved as such. “Pete’s bet, Y/N, to finally get me to stop being a sodding coward and ask you out.” He offered, albeit much more quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t mean to intrude but I can assure you that’s really all it was.” James offered with a pained grimace from where he stood behind Sirius’ crouched form. “We’d been so tired of him convincing us all to hang out in the sodding library just so he could stare at you and never do anything about it. Took us weeks to get him to even start saying hello to you.”

You looked at James, eyebrows furrowing which seemed to cause more tears to fall.

“That makes no sense. I’m not that scary.” You cried.

“No,” Sirius agreed, “you’re just that pretty. That special. That lovely and kind. You’re not scary but you were really intimidating. I was so afraid of botching the whole thing – looks like I kind of did that anyway, huh?”

You were finally looking at him, and Sirius relished in the sight of your eyes meeting his once again, even if they were filled with hurt and tears. He took your two hands in his and ran his thumbs along the backs of your knuckles.

“I begged you for one chance, Y/N. I have no problem begging you for a hundred more. I swear to you, one of these times I’ll get it right.” He promised.

You stared at him for a moment longer before laughing wetly. “Gods, I’m sorry for being so cold. I…I really thought-”

But he cut you off by shaking his head. “I think you were justified. I would have been hurt if I’d overheard that I’d only been asked out on account of a bet. But I promise, it was not malicious.”

You nodded in understanding and pulled on of your hands away from Sirius’ to wipe away the tear tracks on your face.

“Gods I feel so silly.”

“Let me make it up to you.” Sirius barked quickly. “Right now, come with me. Please?”

You looked at him confusedly for a moment before nodding your head and looking back to your friends. One of them still seemed slightly miffed, so conceded to letting him steal you away from them though she didn’t let you part without shooting him a few more withering glares.

No matter, Sirius would have time to win over your friends.

Right now, he was more worried about winning you over. And hopefully keeping you this time.

To start, he’d spend the rest of the night snuggled up to you under stolen blankets from the Gryffindor common room while the two of you watched the stars from the Astronomy tower.

Well, you watched the stars; he spent the evening watching admiring you.

He’d make sure you never felt like the butt of some joke ever again – not if he could help it.

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hazel2468 · 2 months

Text

Kay you know that long ass post I just reblogged? With the absolutely unhinged antisemitic person tweets?

I saw someone in the notes being like “as a member of the Pro Palestine camp, we do not claim them!” And I’m like…

That’s the fucking problem. Because they ARE YOU. That kind of unapologetic antisemitic racist conspiracy? Is RAMPANT in Pro Palestine spaces. Online and in the real world. And at BEST people just ignore it and let it happen and at worst they AGREE with it.

You can’t just “they’re not with us” with this when I have yet to see a SINGLE fucking post about being Pro Palestine that doesn’t have someone in the comments devolving into antisemitic bullshit. They ARE with you- they are constantly there. And you guys need to fucking clean house because at this point? Idgaf if you say you “don’t claim them”, because there are enough of them that your movement is not only entirely unsafe for Jews, but at least 75% of the shit I see posted in the name of being Pro Palestinian is actually just antisemitic as fuck.

#antisemitism #i/p #you do not get to No True Scotsman this #it is SUCH a problem that it is defining the entire Pro Palestine movement #and that should be a massive fucking problem for y’all and somehow #it doesn’t seem to be

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kiwanopie · 1 year

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Strawberry Jam

Your best friend has a sweet tooth.

cw: college!bokuto, oral(f!receving), dubcon, manhandling if you squint. 1.3k

“Ah shit!” Bokuto frowns. “I dropped my pencil.”

You absently hum at the sound of his voice from the ledge of your laptop. “Hm-?”

The sound of a skidding chair barely disrupts your line of focus from where it’s locked on your midterm - but the sound of his head knocking a bit against the underside of the table does pull a little chuckle from you. You glance at your keyboard through a few dull taps on your mousepad, but at the very least you’re considerate enough to mumble a quiet ‘You okay?’

Bokuto makes a huffy little whining sound that you opt to ignore in favor of letting your best friend crawl about the carpet like a mouse. Patting his palms against the plush nylon of your bedroom floor as he searches for his pencil, and you’re really no help when you make less than an effort to move your legs as he knocks against them.

The blue light turns the darkening room behind you a washed navy, whatever he just knocked his back against just unplugged the desk light. “You can just borrow one of mine y’know.”

“But this one’s special! It has my name engraved on it and everything!”

“Why would you-“ You spam the backspace bar for a loud couple clicks. “Why would you buy something like that if you know it’s gonna get shaved away anyway?”

“Because it’s cool… And I’ll know if someone steals it!”

Bokuto roots for the little punctures on the outlet through a few messy jabs of his fingers. “Your room eats up all my stuff.”

The fact that you can physically hear him pouting is enough to make you wanna audibly scoff. Especially when his little nest across the hall has already swallowed up a pair of your headphones, a few mismatched socks, and a volume of that manga you’ve been collecting since last spring. And anyways, it’s totally his fault. He’s the one who keeps treating your room like a second bedroom. You can’t even sift through your hamper without finding some of your clothes mixed up with his.

But instead of making that point, you pull a little piece of skin off your bottom lip that tastes metallic when you tuck it under your tongue, switching tabs to double check your sources and mumble a little sarcastically under your breath. “Sorry ‘bout my room eating your stuff.”

The way the room bursts into a warm haze barely phases you anymore than the hollow tap of thin wood clinking just before your feet. If Bokuto’s gasp should mean anything, a number two pencil gets to live to see another day.

“Find it?”

“I found it!”

Bokuto snorts at your halfhearted ‘Hoorah.” as he turns on his knees to crawl out from under the table. Blithely grunting his way through the cramped little space, but stopping on the heel of his palm when he notices something.

“Oh, hey!”

“Hmm?”

He ducks his head for a better view of your skirt. “What’s up with these undies?”

“Hm? Oh.” You lift your back a little, even still your eyes are locked on the screen. “You got a problem with Strawberry Shortcake?”

“No, I like them! They’re cute.”

You blow a tickled breath out through your nose. You should kick him for being a perv and peeking up your skirt. But really you’re just thankful he didn’t tease you for being childish after you just ragged on his special pencil.

Your elbow digs into the desk with a squeak as you rest your jaw in your palm, your voice is an absent drone. “Thanks, they’re strawberry flavored.”

The shift key clicks as you start a new paragraph.

And then your knees are colliding with the table. “Wha- They’re not actually strawberry flavored!”

The way you startledly flinch is hardly enough to deter Bokuto’s hot mouth from the front side of your panties, but the way he hums - runs a thorough lick through your clothed slit and pulls away, makes it hard for you not to outwardly shutter. “They’re not? No way, I totally taste it.”

“Bokut-“ You lay your hand against his scalp when he leans in to dig his nose in. “Don’t just start doing something like that out of nowhere!”

Wow, he’s really slobbering all over those poor things isn’t he? “Y’want me to stop?”

“N-…No, but-”

He digs his tongue in with a fervor.

It’s a few tempered licks before he’s finally reaching forward to tug your panties to the side, molten tongue massaging attentively over your clit as the way he’s all but mushing his head into your soaked cunt inclines you to scoot into your seat. - Although the distance is short lived. You’re helpless to stop him when he uses his weight to push the chair back enough to lift his head freely, and you're all but yanked onto your back as he secures your legs over his shoulders, lifting on his knees to eat you out from a better angle.

The position is a little awkward but the sensation is incredible. This guy is drinking you up like it’s all he knows how to do. The angle opens you up from top to bottom, his tongue doesn’t leave a spot untouched. You’d almost be embarrassed with all the noise you’re making, but his drunken moans are a contest to yours.

“Ko, you’re-“ Oh god, your poor chair. “You’re… making such a mess…!”

He makes a gluttonned sound of indignation. “S’your fault. ‘Pussy tastes so good…”

You whine. That’s your best friend talking to you like that. You don’t even know where this came from. One minute he’s a bumbling teddy bear, rooting around your carpet for his stupid novelty pencil, the next he’s-

“You’re g’nna cum in my mouth?” He noses your clit. “Gonna let me drink your cum? Yeah?”

You claw at the arms locked over your thighs. “Koutarou! K-Ko! Fuck… Oh my god…”

“You taste so fucking sweet. What kind of friend holds out on another when they know they’ve got the-“ The way he spits on your messy cunt makes your pretty eyes roll. “Most perfectest pussy in the whole wide world?”

That’s not a word. But you get the sentiment. Especially when he punctuates it by circling his middle finger around your tight little hole and eases it in with his tongue pressed against your clit. Deep guttural groan that reverberates throughout your entire body at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, gushing for him so eagerly that you start to drip down his arm. Your pretty pussy seems intent on making him fall in love with it. Love struck even when he slides another finger in. And it’s all he can do not go mad when you start to drunkenly hump into his face.

“Oh god, Ko! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Bokuto moans as your legs lock behind his shoulders, you’re so fucking hot he could die. “Mhm! Mhm!”

He’s rocking into you so thoroughly with his fingers that the chair starts to creek. The way the veins in his arm deliciously pop is enough to send you over the edge. “Ohhhh fuck! Cumming! m’ cumming!”

Bokuto sloshes his tongue over your clit as you spasm around his fingers. Wet noises double in volume as he continues to fuck into you, even when your leg kicks up from the amount of overstimulation. He just barely gives when you start to push his head away.

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto raises his head. “You’re just too fucking good.”

He helps you shimmy your sodden panties down your legs as you tiredly upright yourself in your seat, kissing your knee for good measure. “Hey, we’re still friends right?”

You nod. Though your throbbing clit says otherwise. “Yeah, you’re still my buddy.”

“Yay!” And you could almost giggle at how happy-go-lucky he can still look with your cum all over his face.

He holds your soaked underwear in his hand and they squish a little in his palm. “Can I keep these?”

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