#I’m just explaining things and trying to clear things up
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I Don’t Want To Go Back
Bradley:
I’m sitting in the doctor’s office and I feel butterflies in my stomach. All I can is look down at my legs and feet— well I guess Luke’s legs and feet. They are his in the first place but I now control them.
I’m waiting on a response from the doctor who’s helping my big brother Luke and I with our situation. He’s with Luke right now in the other room who’s in my body.
From what I can understand, one of us gave the other some kind of sick that caused everything. All I know is that, one night I went to bed as me and the next morning I woke up as Luke.
That night, Luke was doing his workout when I walked in to his room. I was trying to ask him if he could help me out something.
“What do you want twerp? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Suh—sorry Luke! I just wanted to get some help with—”
Before I could even ask him anything he got all angry with me and pushed me out of his room.
Then the next morning happened…
I remember waking up and feeling strange, but it wasn’t until I sat up and saw Luke’s big feet and hairy legs that I knew I wasn’t myself.
The next thing I noticed was Luke’s morning wood, i learned quickly that morning that he does not go to bed in PJs.
I looked down at the hard wiener amazed by its size, I touched it and it sent sparks through me.
It took me a second to fully focus but I eventually got up and went to the bathroom.
That’s where I realized that I am now my brother Luke. 
Seeing Luke’s reflection in the mirror made me feel nervous and excited. I had so many questions.
But then I felt something for the first time, confident! I feel so confident in this body.
I stood in front of that mirror for awhile until I heard a loud voice hollering.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!”
I peak out of the bathroom door and saw my body rushing down the hallway angry.
But the second we made eye contact, he froze in one spot.
“Bradley… is that… are you me?,” he said to me.
“Yeah it’s me, are you Luke?” I asked him back.
I thought he was going to be nice to me for a second but nope!
Like charged down the hall and almost like he was going to lunge for me. Before he could get to the door, I quickly shut it which caused him to crash into it.
A locked the door, scared of what he was going to do. Then I remembered something, I’m the one with all of the strength now! I opened up the door and Luke was on the ground still trying to get back up.
“You little shit! You did this! I don’t know how but you did this!” he said to me.
All of the sudden, my dad came out of his room.
“Boys! What’s going on here?”
“Your son over here took my body!” said Luke.
“I didn’t take it Luke! I promise!! I’m just as confused as you,” I said crossing my now bigger arms.
“Can someone clue me in on what’s going on? And Luke can you please get some clothes on!”said my dad.
We sat down with him after I put on a pair of pants and explained what happened that morning.
He didn’t believe us at first but after a call with a speciality doctor, my dad’s eyes got wide and then he hung up.
“Boys, I’ve some good news and bad news.”
“What’s the good news?” said Luke.
“Well this is a rare situation to happen but you’re not the first ones ever. And you’re both physically fine other than uh… well.”
“Come on dad! What did they say? Are we stuck like this?”
“Well they want to run some test but that won’t happen until next week.”
“NEXT WEEK?!? BUT I GO ON MY BEACH TRIP NEXT WEEK!!”
“I’m sorry but you have to cancel Luke!”
“Fuuuuuuckkk this! I’m going upstairs!”
Luke stormed away from the table while I stayed back.
“Sorry bud that’s he’s so upset, you know it’s not directed at you right?”
“I guess so,” I said back.
“Do me a favor for right now, just stay clear of him for right now.”
“I promise I will!”
The next few days changed me a lot. It started out with Luke and I having to switch out all of our stuff. My dad wanted us to at least pretend to be each other for the time being so I got Luke’s room, clothes, even his cellphone (which made him the most mad).
I even learned a lot as well. Like how to work out, what being a 19 year old is like, my dad’s started to teach how to drive.
But what I find interesting is all of the things i like about my new self.
Like my new feet! I love the way they look, my dirty socks, the way they smell after a long workout— it makes me so hard!
I’ll take pictures of them and even put my face into them after a long day!
I also love my muscles! I feel so powerful with them!! Even my friends are into them.
Well once again, technically Luke’s friends. Specifically Seth, who I talk to everyday. We go back and forth sending pictures of ourselves. I think he likes me, a lot! I like him too, a lot lol.
He even told me last night.
Texts:
Seth: Dude, I wish you told me how you feel. I would have made a move a long time ago. But if you want to keep this on the DL, I’m cool with that. But as long as we have our fun on the beach trip.
Bradley: We are going to ALOT of fun on the trip I promise!
Seth: Well could you send me a little teaser? Maybe a body pic 😈
Bradley:
Seth: Hot!!🥵
Bradley: Do you like feet?
Seth: …
Seth: If I have to be honest, I’d never tell anyone else this but yes. I do indeed have a foot fetish.
Bradley: I took this one earlier 😎
Seth: Well since you’re showing off 😛
Bradley: You have really nice feet!
Seth: Oh do I? I’ll let you do anything with them on the trip.
Reading that text from Seth made me instantly hard!
I talked to him for a while and this morning but I’m so nervous to find out what’s going to happen!
Are they going to give me something that will put Luke and I back in our bodies? I can’t go to my body, not before I go on my trip with Seth!!
A knock was at the door.
“Bradley, can I come in?”
The doctor came in and I felt like I was about to puke!
“Hey, sorry that took a little bit. Your brother doesn’t seem that happy. How are you with all of this?”
“Me? Oh I’m good, just an adjustment.”
“Well you seem to be taking it better. You know this is very rare. Unfortunately, this is something so new even to us. I wish I could tell you things are going to be back to normal soon but…”
“Wait, are you saying this is forever?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say forever. I guess I’ll just go ahead and say it. This is a lab made disease that somehow got to either you or your brother. We don’t have a cure for it at this moment. So I’d highly advise you, your brother, and your father to try and make this your new normal for the time being.”
“Oh wow! I can’t believe it!”
“So you’re good to go—”
I hopped up and immediately went for the door. As I walk out, I see Luke with his head turned down.
“Hey, you okay?”
“No…”
“Well cheer up! That body isn’t so bad,” I say messing up my former hair.
“ Easy for you to say!”
“I’m sorry Luke but we are gong to have to accept this for now. Sides, I’ll be a good big brother to you. I promise.”
Luke looked up at me and for the first time in a while he had the tiniest smile.
Two Days Later:
“Flex on em Luke,” says Seth as he takes a picture of me.
I walk up to him and say, “You have the bigger muscles why don’t you show them off.”
He grins and says, “I only show them off for you.”
“Hey do you wanna sneak up real quick while none of the other boys notice?”
“I thought you would never ask!”
We run up the stairs and as soon as we’re out of eyesight Seth pulls me in and kisses me.
“Come on inside Luke, I’ll let you play with these piggies,” he says wiggling his toes in my face.
“Can you do that thing you did last night with them?”
“You want another foot job?”
“Yep!”
“Oh boy! You’re lucky you’re so cute!”
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okay just because we were talking about this - how do you think an asl reunion at alabasta would look like?
i hope its ok that i took this as an excuse to write an au no one asked for :')
read on ao3
x
A lot of the problems in Ace’s young life—most of them, if he was being honest—could be attributed to the shitty choices that adults around him made.
When Bluejam grabbed Luffy by the scruff, the business end of a pistol jammed painfully into the nape of his neck, he was talking a bunch of shit about how Sabo’s dad ripped him off. He was paid to kill Ace and Luffy but he’d been short-changed, and for a man who seemed to think he was entitled to a certain lot in life, it rankled.
“But that noble brat doesn’t make a bad ransom,” the man said, shaking a weepy Luffy in one meaty hand to shut him up, like Ace’s baby brother was nothing but a piece of dirty laundry. “If his family won’t buy him back, I’m sure someone will.”
Ace’s blood turned to ice in his veins. Whatever time Ace didn’t spend in the jungle he spent in the gutters and outskirts of the city, where every unwanted, street-sharpened child knew the risk a certain kind of stranger brought with them.
If Sabo ended up with a slaver, Ace would never get his brother back. Pieces of him, maybe. But not the same golden boy he was right now. Not the brave, proud, secretly soft-hearted person Ace loved so much. He’d come back different if he came back at all.
He had to compartmentalize. He couldn’t act rashly until he had Luffy back. His mind raced frantically, but he made sure it didn’t show on his face. He snatched Luffy up when Bluejam finally let him go and made his own body a wall between his brother and the men who had no compunctions about hurting him to prove a point.
They were left to spread gasoline throughout the terminal, while the pirates made their way back down to the beach. Not one of them lingered to make sure Ace and Luffy did as they were told, and Ace should have wondered about that. Should have wondered why they were making themselves scarce, why the city gates were barred, what all those fuel canisters are for, but his thoughts were too full of other things.
That was why, the second the coast was clear, he tossed his gasoline drum aside and seized Luffy by the arms. He stooped to look right into his eyes, trying to ignore the way his chest panged at how wide and red they were.
“I have to go get Sabo,” he said firmly. “You have to stay here.”
“Let me come!” Luffy cried immediately, predictably. “Don’t leave me behind!”
“It’ll be faster if you wait,” Ace snapped, because he didn’t want to say that Luffy was going nowhere near any ship bound for the slave market, because then he would have to explain why. Even without the Fruit that made him a special novelty in the Blues, Luffy would be snatched up by evil hands in a heartbeat. “You’re too little, you’ll just slow me down,” he said instead.
It wasn’t nice, and when Ace had time later, he would feel bad about the way Luffy’s lip trembled. But for now, it was important that he got his point across. Every second he lingered was another inch ahead Bluejam’s crew got. Ace’s world would literally end if their ship left port without him.
So he gave Luffy’s shoulders a push that propelled him back a step. Then he pointed in the direction of the treeline. He made his face mean and forbidding.
“I mean it, Luffy,” he said. “Go wait for me at home.”
Luffy finally tucked his chin in a miserable little nod. Ace gentled despite himself and reached out because there were two people he would always reach out for and one of them was right in front of him.
He flicked the brim of Luffy’s hat up enough that it fell off his head, and then ruffled his hair. A gesture so familiar and well-practiced it was like muscle memory to him now. Luffy didn’t smile, but it kept the tears at bay for a bit longer, and Ace left him with another firm point back at the jungle.
Ace was a child, doing his best to keep his tiny family together. He had a half-formed plan that he would sneak about Bluejam’s ship and find Sabo wherever he was and they would fight their way out and escape together and reunite with Luffy in time for a midnight dinner. He was a pragmatic youth, and was made wiser by the world than any ten-year-old should have been, but he was still only ten years old. He couldn’t have guessed what was going to happen.
He would piece it together later—that Bluejam had been commissioned by the kingdom to make sure the Gray Terminal burned down, a noble title he planned to come back to collect once he had auctioned off Outlook’s eldest son to the highest bidder—that Ace had chased after one brother and left the other alone in a place that was about to go up in flames.
When he climbed aboard the Blood Batako, he didn’t realize it would be the last time he saw Dawn Island for almost half a year.
He didn’t realize that Luffy would wait for him right there where Ace left him, even as the fire spread into walls of flames much taller than a scrawny seven year old—frightened and crying, little hands bunched in the front of his own shirt as he choked for each breath in the thick, acrid smoke. That Dadan would find him there and haul him away kicking weakly but not screaming, because there wasn’t enough oxygen left in his body to scream. That the asphyxiation, not the fire, is what nearly killed Luffy that night. That he would spend the next week in Foosha Village tended to by their only doctor and wake up with some of his memory intact, but not all. That he would recognize Makino, but wouldn’t know Dadan.
Ace had no way of knowing, when he and Sabo finally made their way home, well-traveled at the tender young age of freshly eleven, and relieved to see journey’s end for the time being, and looking forward to reuniting with a certain crybaby who had probably been miserable cooped up in Dadan’s country or at Party’s Bar without them, that Luffy will have been gone for months by then.
“A cruise ship docked further up the island,” Makino says fretfully, “and a little boy who worked in the kitchens came down here to play because he said he didn’t like the way the kingdom smelled. He and Luffy were fast friends. I had no idea Luffy was planning to leave with him until I found the note he left in his room, and by then they were long gone.”
It’s a good thing Sabo is there, because Ace’s head is just a roar of white noise. Sabo is the one who chokes out, “But—what—did—did you call Gramps? What did he say? Is he going to find him?”
“I don’t have his direct line. I’ve left a dozen messages with his office, but you know how he is,” Makino says, forgetting that they don’t, actually. “He hardly remembers that he has an office. And the number Dadan has for him is no good.”
“Why would Luffy wander off like that?” Sabo says, progressively getting louder. “Why wasn’t someone watching him?”
“He’s just been so restless since the fire,” Makino replies. “There wasn’t anything keeping him here anymore, and it seemed like he just needed one good excuse to leave.”
Sabo looks as gutted by that as Ace probably feels, hurt and confusion racing their way across his face. And Ace finally makes his contribution, in the form of a choked, “What do you mean?” which is when Makino realizes there’s something they still don’t know.
She sits them both down at a table and holds one of each of their hands in hers, and gently explains that while they were gone, the world as they knew it had changed forever, and the happy little boy who always ran to catch up to them wasn’t running after them anymore.
———
Ace still forms the Spades, and Sabo still falls in with the Revolutionary Army, and the only reason they don’t sail together the way they promised when they were young is because the ocean is awfully big. They have a lot of square footage to cover, and splitting up is the only way they could even hope to cover it all.
It doesn’t occur to either of them to give up at any point. As Sabo climbs ranks, as Ace gathers a crew, both their bounties increasing every day, they continue to search faithfully. Either they’ll find him one day, or they’ll simply spend the rest of their lives looking.
Masked Deuce says, “What about the cruise ship he left on? Did you track it down?”
“Boarded by pirates that same year,” Ace replies. “According to the official report, it sank in a storm.”
The loaded silence says everything Masked Deuce will not say. Ace doesn’t care what someone who has never met Luffy thinks about his odds of survival at sea. If Deuce knew Luffy, he would understand. Since he doesn’t, Ace’s first mate can believe his captain is delusional all he likes as long as it doesn’t keep him from doing his job.
Deuce turns out to be a better friend than Ace deserves. One day when Ace leaves his crew to party with some locals and sets off into town to distribute flyers and put his ear to the ground, he hears someone rumble something under their breath about a hopeless cause. He doesn’t even have time to turn around before Deuce has seemingly teleported across the bar and knocked the dissenter out cold.
“Anyone who shares his opinion is free to get their shit and leave,” he says calmly.
The only voices that rise up are ones who sound very offended that Deuce would lump them in with that guy, and Ace refuses to look as touched as he feels.
When he hears word of Red-Hair Shanks in nearby waters, he tracks the man down to a wintery island and leads his crew up a small mountain to meet him. In part, he wants to thank this man who saved his little brother all those years ago. But also…
“I heard about the fire,” Shanks said grimly. “And Makino kept me updated about little Anchor until he disappeared. I’ve got eyes out looking, too, Ace. The world is big, but not so big that we’ll never find him.”
It’s a relief to know that Luffy is so loved, that more than just his brothers care if he’s ever found. But in true Luffy fashion, he explodes onto the scene when he’s good and ready.
Ace is woken up by Deuce kicking the door of the captain’s quarters off its hinges and shoving a crinkled Wanted poster into Ace’s bleary face so that a toothy, stretching smile is the first thing he sees.
He accidentally sets half the room on fire, a slip-up the likes of which hasn’t happened since the first week after he ate his Fruit, and there’s a lot of screaming, and someone shoves a baby Den-Den at him so he can call Sabo. From the way his nakama were carrying on, you would think it was their long-lost brother in the paper.
“I was about to call,” Sabo says breathlessly in lieu of a hello after only barely half a ring. “You saw it?”
“I saw,” Ace replies. The newspaper is rattling noisily in his hands but he can’t get them to stop shaking. “He took down Arlong Park. There are all these witness statements from the villagers. They’re saying he did it all for his friend.”
“If anyone even thinks about coming for his bounty, I’m killing everyone on the Grand Line and then myself,” Sabo says. It takes knowing him as well as Ace knows him to be able to tell over the phone that he’s crying buckets.
“Get in line,” Ace says. If anyone so much as looks at Luffy wrong he’s burning this goddamn planet down. He can’t tear his eyes away from the poster for more than a few seconds at a time. At the urchin grin, the pencil-mark curve of a scar, this bright young man he’s never met who is so, so familiar.
“They’re calling him Straw Hat Luffy,” Deuce says. He’s a pillar of serenity in a sea of absolute chaos, leaning on Ace’s shoulder to read with him. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now I’ll finally get to meet him.”
Which turns out to be easier said than done, because Luffy and his merry band of lunatics won’t seem to stay in one fucking spot for longer than an hour. It takes weeks to finally track that cute little caravel down to a summer island about halfway through the Grand Line, and by that time Sabo has taken a leave of absence from the Army to join him. They’re close now. They’re so close.
Wait for me, Ace would beg him if he could, wondering if this was how Luffy felt all those times his big brothers ran ahead and left him behind.
———
Ace never knew how heavy a heart could be when he was a child, a half-feral, angry, touch-starved thing. But now his heart is full—now it bursts at the seams, spills through his ribcage, until there’s no part of him that isn’t touched by it—and it’s the heaviest thing he’s ever carried.
A precious burden. He’s twice the man he would have been without it. He will never, not one time in his life ever, entertain the idea of putting it down.
But gods, Ace thinks, it would be easier, so much easier, to rip the stupid thing out of his chest and walk around a hollow shell of someone once-loved than it would be to stand here for one more minute and look down at his baby brother looking up at him like he’s a total stranger.
“Who’s this guy?” a blond man behind Luffy mutters. With the touseled hair hanging in an artful curtain over half his face and the cigarette between his teeth and the well-cut linen suit that makes it very clear he never skips leg day, blondie gives off an air of Do Not Fuck With Me just by breathing in a way that reminds Ace of Sabo at that age.
The swordsman beside him, called Roronoa Zoro on his bounty poster, is scowling outright, gray eyes sharp, ready at any moment to leap over Luffy like a faithful hound and dig into Ace with his teeth the second he presents as danger.
It makes Ace feel kind of nostalgic, like he’s looking at an old photo of himself.
He tries to focus on the nostalgic feeling, because all the rest of his brain is drowning in guilt and grief.
Somehow, he wasn’t prepared for this moment. Years of searching, nearly half his life, and he’s finally standing in front of the person whose absence tore a hole clean out of his whole future, and he has no idea what to say.
You look well, springs to mind, because Luffy does. His hair and skin and eyes are all different shades of brown that gleam with good health under the desert sun. He’s still skinny, but not in the waifish, underfed way of all the Gray Terminal kids. He looks like he’s been eating well. It settles something in Ace’s heart in the one tiny corner of it that isn’t breaking.
I should have been there, is the next-most immediate thought, and it almost takes Ace’s knees out from under him. He should have been there to make sure Luffy ate well. He should have been there to save him from the fire, to help him recover from the smoke sickness, to hold him when he cried in his sleep and to take his hand when he wandered aimlessly around the village with no one to play with and nothing to look forward to.
I’m sorry I left you, is what it boils down to, what Ace has held close and carved into his heart over the years, hating himself, hating the child he was who thought he knew better, who thought he could conquer everything without losing anything. I never should have left you.
But Luffy doesn’t know him from any other person in this busy marketplace, his head tilting to one side like a curious little bird’s, and Ace can’t think of anything to say to him that he’ll understand.
He needs Sabo. He’s about to become a walking fire hazard, and he’s about to mess this whole thing up, this reunion that was almost a decade in the making. Luffy’s two friends are eyeing him with mounting suspicion the longer he stands there and stares at their captain, every line of their body still the way a predator’s body stills in preparation for a pounce. Luffy, for his part, is still engaged, but only barely. His interest is slipping away—there are too many sights and smells and things bustling all around for him to want to stand still for a gawking stranger that doesn’t even have anything exciting to say.
His little brother. Crybaby Luffy. The boy who crawled under Ace’s blanket when their treehouse quaked in a storm, who held Sabo’s hand when they stayed out too late and walked home through the jungle in the dark. He’s a pirate now, a Wanted person, with a crew and a ship all his own, and he got this far without them. The last time Ace saw him was that last night in the Gray Terminal, when Ace was being mean on purpose to make sure Luffy stayed away from certain danger.
It occurs to Ace, for the very first time, that Luffy doesn't need him anymore. That tiny seven year old grew up.
“I saw you in the paper,” he finally says, making a concentrated effort to sound like a human being. “You’re pretty cool.”
Luffy brightens immediately. “Yeah? Are you a pirate, too?”
“I am. Made a promise to my brothers when I was a kid that we’d sail the seas together one day.”
“Wow!” Luffy says, suitably impressed. “We made a promise like that, too.” He loops both his arms through one of Blondie’s and one of Roronoa’s. “We decided way back when we were little that we were gonna stick together and become the pirate king, and the greatest swordsman, and the man who discovers All Blue!”
So one of his two guard dogs must be the little kitchen boy from The Orbit who spirited Luffy away from Foosha. The other must have come along not much later if they were all children together. Ace wants to hear the story so badly he has to clench his jaw to keep from asking. He wants to hear about everything.
Instead, ignoring the way Roronoa’s hand closes around the hilt of one of his swords, Ace reaches out and flicks the brim of Luffy’s hat so that it slips backwards off his head. Luffy squawks, and tries to free his arms in time to catch it, and then freezes in place at the touch to his hair.
Ace ruffles it fondly, muscle memory that hasn’t corroded even after a decade, and says what he should have said the first time that sunshine child in a worn straw hat shared a wild, impossible wish;
“I hope I’m there to see it when all those dreams of yours come true.”
If he had stayed a second longer, he would have seen the way Luffy mirrored Ace’s touch with his own fingers, frozen in place.
Instead, Ace has officially reached his emotional threshold, and formally retreats to find his twin. They take turns being the stable one and Ace is calling dibs on being a basket case for the next month. Masked Deuce is just going to have to deal.
Sabo got back to their meeting spot first, an outdoor table outside a tavern that hasn’t yet opened for the day, and already has their map rolled out and pinned down at the corners by various junk from their luggage. He’s marking something down and calls over a distracted hello, and Ace bleakly replies, “I found him.”
His tone is all wrong for the remarkably momentous occasion he’s announcing, so it’s not really Sabo’s fault that it doesn’t click right away. Sabo says, “Found who?” and Ace just looks at him with all his helplessness and weariness plain on his face, and Sabo drags an ink mark all across Sandy Island on the map as he whirls around and says, “You found him?”
“It’s not going to be how we thought,” Ace says, trying to manage his brother’s expectations. They share everything, but Ace would keep this heartbreak to himself if he knew how. “It’s—I think we took too long.”
“What do you mean?” Sabo asks, hands clenching into fists and unclenching. The fountain pen is dripping ink, ruining the fine leather of his left glove.
“He didn’t know me. I knew he wouldn’t, not really, but he—he didn’t recognize me at all,” Ace tries to explain. He feels stupid and childish and ungrateful, but really he just has no idea what to do. Luffy doesn’t know him and doesn’t need him and how is he supposed to fill a place in that kid’s life that doesn’t exist anymore? “We’ll have to—to start over from scratch, but how? How are we supposed to make someone like Luffy care about people like us? He’s sunshine personified, and deserves to have everything he wants and the best this shitty world has to offer, and we’re just—two selfish idiots who couldn’t even take care of one little kid between the two of us.” The awful truth, delivered quietly: “Luffy doesn’t need us anymore. I can’t see why he’d want us around now.”
Sabo is watching him like something carved from marble. Ace would never tell him, because it would hurt his feelings in a way nothing else ever could, but there are times when Sabo looks every bit the nobleman his biological family wanted him to be. The line of his jaw and the fall of his hair and his deep set eyes are regal, especially when he’s focused, when he’s working through a problem, when he’s the last sane voice in a room and he’s waiting for the morons wasting his time to run out of breath.
And then his eyes flicker past Ace’s shoulder, and his expression transforms. The breath leaves him in a rush like it was punched out of him, his lips parting, blue eyes widening in a way that seems to shave whole years from his face.
Something causes him, impossibly, incongruously, to smile.
“Would you put money on that?” he asks.
“What? Yes,” Ace says, thrown off by the inappropriate lightness of his tone. He feels himself start to bristle defensively. “Are you even paying attention?”
“One of us has to,” Sabo says, only smiling wider, and Ace feels sparks falling off his fingers in sheer aggravation as he turns around to see what is so—
He has three seconds at most to take in the sight of Luffy hurtling up the hill at top speed. It’s been years and years, but three seconds is all he needs. His arms remember how to reach out and catch him.
“I waited where you left me, but you never came back!” Luffy shouts. “You can’t be mad! I waited and waited, and then I went out to find you instead! I didn’t remember you but I had to find you! I still don’t—I still don’t know some things—but I know it’s your fault for taking too long!”
Sabo lurches over and Luffy’s rubbery hug wraps around them both and Ace is too shell-shocked by the last minute to do anything but hug back.
Luffy shoves his face in Ace’s shoulder, and there’s a hot, wet smear of tears there. It gives away that Straw Hat Luffy, the pirate captain worth thirty million berries, is maybe not as grown-up as Ace had initially feared.
Sabo presses his face against the crown of Luffy’s head, too overcome to do anything but hold him. The regal young man from moments ago is long gone. The one standing here with them is that street-rat from Dawn who knew the best places to steal food from, who always made sure they never went hungry, who once shrugged off his fine winter coat at the market and traded it to a vendor for a pair of sturdy boots for Ace and thick woolen mittens for Luffy. He had shivered all the way home, where there was an extra coat in the treehouse he could use, until Luffy had the bright idea that they should all bundle into Ace’s oversized cloak together for warmth and whined until Ace agreed just to shut him up. That had been the most annoying hike up Mount Colubo in history. It’s a memory that Ace cherishes beyond reason.
Ace whispers, “Of course I’m not mad, Lu.” It’s been ages since he was that hostile, hateful little thing who would take a bite out of anything that dared to show its soft underbelly to him. He presses as close as he can, cheek to cheek with this piece of his family that’s gone missing for far too long, and adds, “You’ve never been obedient a day in your life. If I expected anything different, that’s on me.”
Luffy laughs, and it’s snotty and choked and pure music to Ace’s ears. The kid worms closer, makes himself smaller, and lets himself be held.
He doesn’t need his brothers. His shoulders are broad, and his arms are solid and strong. He’s already made a name for himself, and even now those two friends of his are lingering watchfully further down the road—far enough away to give the respectful illusion of privacy, near enough to make Ace and Sabo’s day a living hell if they try anything fishy. It’s probably been a long time since he’s needed someone to hold his hand or carry him home.
But if, by some insane, undeserved miracle, Luffy still wants them…
It’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s more than Ace has had in ten years.
What one piece? he thinks, arms full and aching. I’ve got it all right here.
#one piece#op#opfic#asl bros#portgas d ace#revolutionary sabo#monkey d luffy#my writing#prompt#wizardmafianinjapirate
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Cold as ice.
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗟𝗲𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗰 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗮𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗵𝗼𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when two people are so afraid of losing each other, they might lose sight of the important things and focus on all of the ways they are slipping away from one another.
𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝘆 @clomo12345
enjoy !
——————
As cold as ice.
The wind blowing into my hair, the gin martini in my ring clad fingers and the look my boyfriend of a couple of years was giving me were all as cold as ice.
“I know you’re upset Charles, but could you just try to understand?” I earn a scoff as a reply. So i give up, I get up from the white leather couch and make my way to the kitchen inside of the yacht. I down the rest of the clear liquid in my glass, the taste burning at the back of my throat.
“Where the hell are you planning on going?”
His shouts are tormenting and make me regret pouring my drink into my mouth and not onto his face. “I’m sick of this Charles, I can’t bear it anymore.” The hot tears rolling down my cold, flushed cheeks form a contrast and makes me even more overwhelmed than I already was. “So you decide to fuck off to Cabo and not mention it at all ?” “Yes, I tried talking to you, explaining how i feel, but all you fucking care about is yourself !” He’s standing in front of me now, his tanned arms caging me, securing me in place and making me feel as little as possible. “Charles please, I don’t like this.” I whispered this time, my tears now dry and my voice monotone and dull.
“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty fucking head of yours Y/n, but i’m sure you’ll have enough time to figure it out.”
——————-
That’s the last thing I’ve heard from Charles in the last three days. I’ve tried calling and i’ve texted a million times.
The house was getting lonely and I missed him more than anything. It wasn’t like Charles to leave and not tell me, but I guess he was giving me a taste of my own medicine. I understood that he was upset, but eventually the void had to be filled and he had to either come back to me or let me go.
I met Charles through Max, as I have know him for years and have kept him as a close friend. We got together about two years ago when we were at a club in Ibiza, drunk off of our minds and in all honesty both a bit heartbroken. Since then, we’ve evolved as a couple and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I had this gut-wrenching suspicion that Charles didn’t share that opinion. He wasn’t infatuated with me anymore, if anything I felt as though I was a chore. When asked about his future, he would only mention his racing career and how he plans to give his all into the sport. At first I admired his drive and determination, but as the years passed I began to feel more and more like a second option.
Questions of marriage had been shrugged off as though it was an unrealistic fantasy built off hopes and broken promises and kids weren’t even on the table.
Being shut down over and over does wonders to the human mind. You either become accustomed to it and learn to tolerate it or you despise it and in the long run, learn to despise your partner too.
That’s why I took myself out of the picture for a few days. I needed to set things straight. My priorities and my goals in life. I stayed at my beach house in Cabo, with a few of my friends, drinking the unbearable feeling of being an absolute burden away. I would check his socials every now and then, being met with pictures of pretty blondes and hundreds of comments about how good they look together. In all honesty, they didn’t. I could never picture Charles with another woman, I didn’t want to.
And that’s what got us into the fight we were having about 3 days ago.
——————
The three ice cubes in my wine glass rattles at the quick jitter my body makes. The front door causing the frightening noise that I reacted to. I place the glass down on the white marble table, making my way into the entry hallway of the penthouse. Disheveled and tired stands my boy with his suitcase by his side and a defeated look on his face. My head tilts slightly at the sight of him, my nerves not quite knowing how to react to this strange nature. The air felt cold, as cold as ice. A footstep too rough and lake would swallow you whole.
The air felt fragile.
“Where do you see yourself in five years?” The icy barrier was now cracked, it was time to test the waters. His face responded to my question with a slight frown and a deep furrow between his eyebrows. I wait for his answer, although I knew this handbook like the back of my hand and I knew I was right.
“Probably with a few championships, if this year goes as planned.”
Full marks for me.
“Why do you ask.”
I smile at that, at his ignorance. His total obliviousness towards the fact that I need to start building my life and that I am prepared to do it with or without him.
Ignorance really was bliss.
“In five years I see myself married with one or two children.” His eyes shoot up from their focus on the floor, now looking into mine. “Your idea of a future doesn’t consider me at all, nor does it involve me at all, for that matter.”
He goes to speak, if it’s a plea or a protest, doesn’t really matter as I take a dive head first into the shark infested waters.
“That hurts Charles. It drove me up a wall. I started fights out of pure fucking boredom and I ran away for days just to try and get your attention.” tears are now rolling down my cheeks and my fore arms are sore from the clutch they have on my sweater. ”It is exhausting to continue drilling this safe and I’m starting to think all that’s in there is a bunch of burnt up hope.”
“Y/n I want a future with you.” He shakes his head, almost as if the accusation I made was absurd. “Then act like it! You leave me on my own, you neglect my needs and feelings. I don’t have a solution anymore.” I’m profusely sobbing by now, struggling to get a breath in.
We’ve made it to this point, the bottom of the lake. The murky and sandy waters making me nauseous and unsure if we’ll make it up to the surface.
As the tears cloud my eyes and my judgement I start making my way to Charles. Seeking for any form of comfort I could get in his cold, hollow embrace. My tired arms move away from my eyelids, giving up on shrugging my tears away. Now they rather try to find him.
The door shuts with a jitter to my spine once again. With shaken and exhausted limbs I sit down on the couch. With my wine glass and tear stained cheeks I look into the beautiful darkness of the Monaco sky, adorned with lights coming from warm and joyful rooms and boats. In that moment, with the whole of Monaco lit up around me, I sit in the dark with a feeling of utter loneliness in my heart.
——————
It’s been seven days since I downed that gin martini. Seven days since my relationship has gone to absolute shit. Life went on. Monaco stayed scattered with lights and love and the world never stopped spinning on its axes. My head never stopped either. Replaying the same situation over for the millionth time felt like watching your comfort movie, that you watch when you want to cry. I was done crying. I felt dry and raspy on the inside, the constant flow of salt from my eyes never easing the uncomfortable feeling.
The feeling was almost as uncomfortable as the man sitting in front of me. His hands intertwined in his lap and his face full of uncertainty and pain.
The view was beautiful. The sunset making the water glisten and the people of Monaco glow with radiance. Charles has always been radiant. His smile and utter kind hearted nature when it came to other people making him shine through others. Right now he wasn’t radiant, he was rather dull and lifeless.
“I’m so deeply sorry.”
It was finalized I think. This was it, in the Monaco waters with no way to civilization I deemed this as me and Charles’ end. No one to help us get back to shore. All I could do is apologize. I didn’t quite know why, but the guilt I have been carrying weighed me down and really gave me no shot of getting to the land. I carried this guilt of being a burden greater than I carried my own name. Greater than I will ever dream of carrying his name.
Our name.
“For fucks sake.” his head was in his sweaty palms now, his veins pulsating and indicating just how frustrated he really is.
I stand up, a gin martini once again in my hand as I walk towards the tip of the yacht. Looking out into the night turning sky I feel contempt in the moment. My heart breaks along with each wave that crashes down and my knuckles clutch the railing of the boat.
It’s cold as ice.
“Marry me.”
I feel nauseous, the glass in my hand dropping as another jitter makes its way throughout my whole body, this time ending at my heart and making all of my nerves tingle. I turn around with a shaky exhale of breath. He’s not on his knees, nor does he have a ring. Yet he stands in front of me with tears in his eyes and asks the most important question I have ever been exposed to.
“I love you Y/n, I am willing to do anything to prove that to you. I will build you that house with the balcony, I will give you 2 or 7 or how many fucking kids you want and I will be the best partner to you. I am not willing to do that for you I want to do that for you. And I will, every single fucking thing on your ‘what will make Y/n happy ’ list until you are grey and wrinkly from all the smile lines. If that means quitting racing, I will do that. Please allow me to spend every second of my life doing that. Planning a future not only in consideration of you, but revolved around you.”
———————
I woke up the next morning with a heavy heart, full of love.
As I started to move around in Charles’ arms I realized I woke up with a heavy hand too. Lifting my left arm above my head, my future glistens in the Monaco sunlight.
The diamond on my ring finger is as cold as ice.
#arthur leclerc#formula 1#lando norris#charles leclerc#max verstappen#formula one#charles leclerc x reader#y/n#yacht girl#angst#angst with a happy ending#love#marriage#smut#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16#f1 imagine#f1 fic#book recommendations
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Aventurine would like to say that stepping out of the IPC building for the last time is like a breath of fresh air, but instead it just feels like a slap in the chest. It makes him breathless and his chest tight. His shirt wraps around his waist too tightly; he can feel the way his pants hang on his hips, digging into the side of them. The world around him is blurry, and the sounds all too loud.
“Well now, dear Gambler, what are you going to do now?” Ratio’s voice cuts through the world like a sharp, static-y knife. The rest of the world withers away as Ratio steps in front of Aventurine, his head slightly tilted. “What’s your plan now that you have been freed from the IPC?”
Aventurine brings in a shaky breath — one that Ratio hopefully doesn’t notice but knowing him he does. “I suppose I'll have to find my way in the world without them. A place to live is probably a good start, wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?” The IPC had owned everything that had ever “belonged” to Aventurine after all — the only thing he had left to his name was a bank account with a hefty sum left in it. It’ll last him for a while, thankfully, but it won’t last forever.
Ratio’s eyes furrow. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t have lodgings anymore?”
“I lived in the IPC building, Ratio. Can’t exactly live there anymore if I’m no longer working for them,” Aventurine explains with a shrug. So he’ll have to find a place to live, that surely can’t be too hard. He’ll just have to hang out in hotels until then. With how impulsive this break away had been, Aventurine certainly hadn’t gone out looking for places beforehand.
“Live with me,” Ratio all but blurts out suddenly — it sounds nearly more like a demand than a suggestion. The usually stoic doctor covers his mouth with his hand as he clears his throat. “I have a spare room in my apartment that I do not use. You are welcome to use it if you wish until you are able to find your own place.”
“Oh?” Aventurine laughs with a shake of his head. “And here I would have thought you would never want to see me again after this. Are you saying you want to live with little old me, Doctor?” Ratio only scowls at him in answer — and Aventurine knows that it's used to tell him that he’s wrong in that regard. “Thank you,” Aventurine breathes out, and he knows that it’s more than just for the offer to stay at his place. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, if you don’t mind.”
“I would not have offered if I had minded, Aventurine. If you are free now, I’ll show you the way and grab you a spare key.” Ratio begins to walk, only getting a few steps before he stops and turns back around to Aventurine. “You do not mind cats, do you? Or, cat adjacent creatures, at the very least.”
Aventurine lets out a true laugh — not a forced one that he feels he needs to continue his act, and he finds that it feels good to laugh like that. He decides that he’ll try to do it more often. “Animals love me, Doctor, you should know that by now.” They tend to flock to him — he thinks it's because he usually runs warm and they treat him like a heater.
Ratio lets out his own rare laugh. “I suppose they do, don’t they?” He shakes his head. “Come along then, Gambler. We best be going.”
Aventurine smiles. “Lead the way, Doctor.”
here, have the first 600 words of my latest wip. it's totally not a present to you guys because i got 2k into it and then scrapped it all since i thought it worked better another way lmao
#caiffee's wips#ratiorine#aventio#this is from the flower shop/hanahaki au i was talking about in a reblog lmao#how does aventurine leave the IPC? i have no clue but he does#it was an impulsive decision that everyone was like “yeah okay sure go ahead” to#dont question it too much this is literally just so i can write them being cute
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Hello! I hope you're having a good day :) for fic prompts (yay I finally thought of one) maybe one of our guys casually referencing something a bully in their past taught them was true about themself and the other being like??? No???
Cheering!! Absolutely never get tired of writing scenes like this!
--
Ed hadn’t even questioned it when he said it.
They’d been working on painting the library with the prettiest light purple paint. It didn’t really have any books yet, but it was going to be a library, so that was what they were calling it already. They’d been joking around, and somehow they’d gotten on the topic of Ed’s sword fighting lessons, and Stede had remarked that he wondered why Ed hadn’t tried to teach anyone else.
“Mostly because I was flirting with you,” Ed laughed, and then he’d paused, and he’d just owned up to the reason that was probably the most true, but, because they were trying to be open and available with each other, he decided to take it a bit further. “And, y’know, I have anger issues, so I always thought it was for the best not to be swinging swords around anyone if I could help it, right?”
And Stede had looked at him, confusion all over his face. “Sorry, what?”
“Uh, I was flirting with you?”
“After that.”
“Oh,” Ed realized, clicking his tongue, looking down at his paint roller so he didn’t have to look at Stede. “I have anger issues.”
“Uh, no,” Stede said, almost laughing.
“Stede,” Ed sighed, “I know you love me, I love you, but we’re trying to be vulnerable with each other, and you really shouldn’t -”
“Oh, honey, no.” Stede put his own paint roller back in its tray, wiping a few specks of paint off on the light shorts he’d put on for painting as he crossed the room to Ed’s side. “Thank you for telling me. But who the fuck told you that?”
“Uh,” Ed said. “Does it matter? It’s -”
“It is not true,” Stede said, so firmly that Ed looked up in surprise. “You do not have anger issues.”
Ed ducked his head.
“I have more trouble controlling my anger than you do, honestly,” Stede snorted. “Why do you think…?”
Ed cleared his throat a bit sheepishly. “Uh, I’m really violent -”
“You were a pirate.” Stede shrugged. “Again. I’m more violent than you are.”
“Uh-huh,” Ed snorted.
“Really,” Stede insisted. “I’ve seen you get angry, Ed. Like when that awful man called you a donkey - if anyone did that to you now, I’d probably shoot them in their faces, but you gave him every chance before you got mad.”
“And then I ordered him skinned with a snail fork,” Ed mumbled. “Because I’m -”
“I would’ve done worse,” Stede said immediately. “Honestly, Ed, I’m in awe of your restraint.”
Ed…restraint. Huh.
He allowed the thoughts to dance across his mind, for just a moment before he pushed them away.
“If I don’t have anger issues,” Ed started hesitantly, occupying himself with re-applying paint on his roller, “then, uh…”
“Oh, lucky for you,” Stede said brightly, “I can tell you all about what my boyfriend Ed is like. He’s amazing. He’s my best friend.”
Ed couldn’t help his smile at Stede’s unbearably fond tone. “Go on, then.”
“Alright!” Stede almost leaned back against the wet wall before Ed stopped him, and he giggled, his nose scrunching with it. “Well. My Ed is so patient. He always explains things so well. He never yells, but he can get a bit chatty when he’s excited. When he’s annoyed with me, he gets the cutest line between his eyebrows.”
Ed pretended to pout at him.
“That one,” Stede laughed, pressing a kiss to the grumpy line on his forehead. “He’s very sweet. He’s always gentle, and kind, and he’s very usually cheerful. He loves making people laugh.”
“Sounds like a pretty alright guy,” Ed said, trying to sound very casual and not at all like he was choked up.
“Oh, he is,” Stede grinned. “He’s amazing.”
“Awright,” Ed grumbled, deciding that was enough introspection for one day, and he dabbed a bit of paint on the tip of Stede’s nose.
Stede yelped at him, and then chased him around the room trying to get him back, and before long Ed was bargaining for his fucking life before Stede could get paint on him.
And when they’d negotiated a truce and decided to make lunch, Ed took Stede’s hand, and he squeezed it tight, and for the first time, he didn’t worry about hurting Stede when he held him.
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Lop’s Shipping Discourse Statement !! ✨ ( TW ; Uncensored Mentions of Gr**ming / P*dophilia )
Just releasing this now, so there is less misconceptions about what I have said due to discourse lately. I’m in no way, calling anyone a predator for their ships, however, we have to understand that sometimes media imported from Japan is problematic in a sense, and I know, I know, I know that sometimes there are characters from various mangas, shows, games, etc. where the characters look young but they are legal adults.
I am a baby faced adult, however, I can fully say with confidence that while you personally aren’t a weird, disgusting creep, that doesn’t mean there aren’t any out there that do get drawn to media, using the reason that the character is legal to be creepy about certain aspects. I personally have been fetishized for looking young, even when I was a minor, and y’all have no idea how frequently I have heard statements such as “ I can’t wait until you’re legal “ - I literally had one of the men that groomed / assaulted me reach out not even two weeks after I turned eighteen, trying to get me to visit him states away without my family, that’s when I realized that it was over all an extremely wrong concept, especially since he still mentioned that I was pretty, asked if I still had braces ( something commonly worn on teenagers ). I don’t know what he was planning, but I know it wasn’t good. He wasn’t the only one to act this way towards myself as well. I’ve even had strange men approach me in public and immediately go with pickup lines talking about how “ young “ and “ innocent “ I look, and I know this sounds extreme and maybe even false, but I just want to explain why I have a stance that I do on this issue.
What I am saying is that when the age isn’t confirmed, and a lot of media from Japan has banked off of this concept, it’s a very dicey territory. You guys out there saying Yuma is a legal adult is whatever, it’s fine, for the most part, I’ve been joking, however, I can under that might not have seemed clear due to not using tone tags or being more explicit in the way I was speaking, and tone is always extremely hard to get across using text. For this, I apologize and I never wanted to make anyone feel uncomfortable in the fandom or make anyone feel as if I was directly calling them a predator. That was aggressive and uncalled for on my behalf, and I promise, I’m genuinely not a very hateful person, and those actions absolutely contradict with who I am. I want everyone to have fun here, enjoy being a part of the fandom on the internet, however, I also have my own boundaries concerning this sort of stuff, and I would like for us to reach a mutual understanding.
Just for my personal boundaries, I ask that nobody sends any ships involving Yuma and a confirmed adult in my inbox because it makes me uncomfortable personally, considering that I view him as a minor, and the game already puts him in situations and has him having discussions I find to be a bit icky already. This is more so because I have trauma relating to this sort of stuff and I would like my boundaries respected. I apologize again if I have violated or bullied anybody else over their views.
I’m definitely not saying to stop creating content, I still find the memes to be hilarious and everyone!s artwork thus far has been pretty good, and I’m glad to see people creating or consuming content that they enjoy, because that’s what being a fan is all about !! If your interpretation of Yuma is different than my own, then please, see it that way.
My issue isn’t with you, it’s with Kodaka, it’s with loli / shota bait, it’s with the passive sexualization of characterization belonging to minors, because I believe that it passively promotes the idea to objectify a minor in a light they don’t need to be objectified in. I hope you understand, just as I’m trying to be a bit more understanding with you all.
Regardless !! I appreciate the support and the feedback, I’ve had a ton of fun discussions and seen a lot of enjoyable content thus far. I don’t want anyone to give up, because this is basically the birthing stage of a fandom. Enjoy yourself, have fun, create and enjoy to your heart’s content. 💕✨🥂
#Yuma shipping discourse#I would consider this an apology but it’s more of a statement#I’m just explaining things and trying to clear things up#lop rambles !!#master detective archives#master detective archives: rain code#raincode#rain code#I mean#I am sorry about a few of my actions#and this isn’t an apology I’m demanding you accept either
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“but i fear that they already got all the best parts of me” goes so hard
#if only this song came out like 6 years ago lol#i’m also nearing the end of season 2 of my free! rewatch and gosh haru’s conflict hits closer to home than ever#and idk if i’m just getting more emotional lately but makoto and haru’s fight in ep 11 deadass made me tear up#when will i stop relating to teenagers real or fictional lmao#part of me wishes i was still a teenager just because being a teenager would explain my sense of purposelessness in everything i do#like taking things one day at a time with a blurry future on a road leading to nowhere#but others having high expectations from you and being sad seeing you so lost#but you just don’t want to let go of what you have now#you don’t want to box your passions in what other people want from you#and going back to the lyrics of the song#you feel like there’s not much you can offer anymore ‘cause you were a ‘gifted’ kid and now you’re just an ordinary person#whose gone complacent to the disappointment of everyone who wants to see you succeed but you feel you don’t have it in you#so again you’re just floating through life trying to enjoy the blessings each day brings again with no clear goal#anyway idk what i’m writing#at the same time i’m glad i’m not a teenager anymore ‘cause that shit sucked#but being a grown adult sucks ass too#i know there doesn’t need to be any purpose in life but#i feel like things’ll be easier if i did have a dream#guess i need a best friend to take me to another country or something to inspire me or something#in other words i’m about to watch one of my fave free eps where rin and haru go to australia#anyway i’m rambling#michi yaps
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Me being a bitch (waayyy more drama in tags):
Decided to stop all the petty shit and actually text my cousin to explain things and have an actual conversation and the bitch laughed at me so I’m officially done with her royal highness
#ps. maybe don’t be a bitch to the person who pays for your streaming services 👍#talking shit about me is fine but my mother?!? sweetie you don’t deserve the nights she’s wasted worrying about you#idk why I’m even explaining things at all#I left her alone for months and then she has to go and acuse me of something I didn’t even know happened#like??? I hadn’t been on Netflix since new years but sure I deleted your Netflix profile but left your Hulu alone#ya figured me out. I’m an evil mastermind *mwhahaha*#and then to drag it out via Netflix names bc you can’t just ducking text me???#I was trying to be an adult and distance myself and she just drags me back into the drama#at least my mom knows I’m innocent#even tried leaving thing on a positive note via Netflix#told her to text my mother sometime bc (despite me thinking she’d a total bitch) my mom still cares about her#and she had to get all sassy like “she has my number 💅”#yeah and ya know what? you have hers#funny how she uses it to check in on you and you don’t reply till you need something#funny thing is my brother told me she and her baby daddy have been fighting more and more#I hope one day she wakes up and realizes her sucked her dry and now has no one to turn to bc she made sure to bitch them all away#sweetie I tried being there for you but I can’t be there for someone who makes it very clear they wish I was never there in the first place#enjoy tearing your vagina in two for someone you gave up your entire personality for#and before any of y’all come here saying “we’ll if she cut everyone off and made her entire personality about him maybe she’s being abused”#she was in an emotionally fragile state when they met- her mother had just died#and it’s our understand that she decided it was easier to purge herself/life of anything that reminded her of her pain/old life#it’s very evident when you look at her behavior#that being said she’s always been a bitch#I had to stop attending holidays at one point simply bc she didn’t want me there (I was 11)#couldn’t wear her hand-me-downs around her bc she’d make it clear I wasn’t pretty enough to wear them#oh and she tried to fight me in the chilis parking lot after church when I was nine#bc my grandpa opened the car door for me instead of her#amazing how just two years ago I was hoping we could finally be friends
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Some people really need to learn the meaning of the phrase “play stupid games win stupid prizes”
#yes this is about the fake trump prophecy post#I’m not mad at all at it cuz it’s not worth getting mad at#I’m just… confused?#why???#why go to all that effort to fake a post when people were gonna figure out it was faked eventually?#they said they just did it as an inside joke for their discord server#but then wouldn’t you want to go in and try to clear things up when the post gained traction and it was clear the joke was#reaching people not part of the joke?#and then why block the person who revealed it and keep them from being able to comment if it’s just an innocent joke?#none of this makes sense#even clout cuz why clout chase on a post that’s so easy to reveal as fake? you had to know how that would end#now they’re trolling to the people genuinely asking why they did this since ig they can’t explain this either#calling it now: they’re gonna cry ‘death threats’ in the next 72 hours#(since that’s how this shit always goes down)#(and even though there’s a specific definition of death threats that people purposely ignore so they can cry cancel culture or whatever tf)#I’m just fucking confused#it’s not even ‘what did you expect to gain’#it’s ‘what did you expect to accomplish?’#cuz it clearly didn’t happen#and it clearly was never going to happen#just… ?????????#why are you booing me i’m right
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Me getting the job:
Me immediately being hit with imposter syndrome:
#do you ever just. realise that you’ve definitely bitten off more than you can chew#because that’s about where i’m at right now#basically i just got hired for an esol job and i haven’t taught esol in nearly three years and when i did teach it i only taught it#for a month; and i wasn’t the best at it. don’t get me wrong i wasn’t the worst. i definitely wasn’t the worst. there was a guy#who just gave his students worksheets and said ‘do them’ and also never opened his teaching practice journal the whole time#but like. i still wasn’t that great. both of my grammar presentations were borderline and i basically think i coasted through#by being likeable and getting a good score on my exam#and also the fact that i never had to teach the elementary class really helped. i’m too verbose for anyone who isn’t at least B1 in english#and i am trying SO hard to change but when i panic i talk fast and i say too many big words#and my boss has dropped the bombshell that a lot of my students will be complete beginners which.. is completely normal and expected#but i am just SO worried#you’d think introductory english would be easiest to teach but actually it’s really hard. it’s SO hard to go right back to basics#and explain the simplest concepts. and i feel like a real berk acting things out#so basically i’ve come up with an action plan#step one is to panic which i am going to do until the books i’ve ordered arrive#that’s step two. read the esol & efl teacher manuals cover to cover. internalise and memorise them#step three is to watch esol lesson demos and probably act them out until i’ve got that slow; clear; loud voice i need#step four is to check the website for the awarding body and see what i’ll actually be teaching#step five is to go to staff induction. apparently my predecessor has left various resources and unless anyone stops me i’m taking them all#step six is to panic again. step seven is to meet my students and probably still know nothing. step eight is uhhhh cry most likely#step nine is i either get my shit together or i get fired. so uh. that’s fun#anyway if you need me i will be implementing step one. ✌🏻#personal
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One of the most memorable interactions was Saturday. Into our booth strolls a small family, tempted by free samples of freshly brewed tea. We chatter and give them the spiel, that the tea is character merch and we’re a cozy health-based app called Forage Friends.
The young girl zeroes in on our pride pins.
“They have my pin!” She says excitedly. “They have my flag!”
The dad blinks. He is surprised, but also calm and positive when he sees it’s the lesbian flag. “Oh. That’s… different from what you told me.”
“That was months ago, dad.” And she rolls her eyes. Definitely a teenager.
I turn to him and say, “Yeah, dad.” And we share a little laugh about it.
He says, “No, it’s great. That’s amazing, honey. It was just news to me.”
“Well, I guess I just decided to stop lying to myself. About liking guys. Like right now.”
A little lesbian just came out to her dad and he was super cool about it.
I’m standing there in my tie-dye mask and my cheery blue apron pouring tea and making small talk and I’m trying really hard not to cry or compare it to my experience, the fire & brimstone, the disgust, the conditional acceptance as long as I never bring it up.
So as this beautiful bonding is going on, the girl’s even younger brother turns his gaze around. He’s in a snorlax hoodie and bored and wants to go look at the swords across the hall. But on the other side of our booth….
“WHY DO PEOPLE DRAW THAT?” He asks loudly, and we all turn to our neighboring booth.
Our neighbors were extremely lovely people. Every time we had a break we would talk, and we became good friends over the weekend. They kept apologizing that their booth was next to ours and we kept repeating that it was totally fine. Their booth was great. I even bought their merchandise.
The thing that was so contentious, that they felt the need to apologize for, was that they were selling explicit titty hentai stickers of popular characters. They were censored with little yellow R18 labels but the content was very clear.
So back to the family: I freeze and immediately go somewhere else to let dad handle this question. With adult customers I’ve been loud and positive about our neighbors. (“Man, how has it been boothing next to them?” It’s been great! They bring a lot of foot traffic and they’re kind and wonderful professional neighbors. If anything it’s a fun juxtaposition. We believe in artistic freedom. I bought a sticker too!)
But this is a kid, it’s not my place to explain anything…. But I was extremely curious about what this chill dad would say.
“Well,” dad says with a long measured silence between each word. “Sometimes people are horny.”
#IT WAS SO FUNNY#the kid was like GROSS#and dad was like its art :)#maybe one day you will feel that way too son#and he was like NO NEVER GROSS#and the dad was like you know what thats true :) not everyone feels that way#but maybe some day you will and you’ll see it’s totally fine and normal#A+ dad#dad of all time#dad champion#forage friends
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bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻
so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.
instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..
a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍
alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.
upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.
"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.
"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."
alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.
"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.
his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.
"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.
"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.
alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.
you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.
---
"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.
"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor imagines#alastor x you smut#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel lucifer#alastor hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader imagines#hazbin hotel alastor smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor x reader
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“The what?”
Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.
So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.
Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.
“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.
“Same,” Danny agrees.
“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.
The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.
“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.
“Bet.”
They look at Duke.
Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.
Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.
“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”
Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.
“What’d you see?”
Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.
“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.
“Need a hand?”
Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.
“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.
Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”
“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.
Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.
“Whoa-“
Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.
The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.
“Holy crap! Danny!”
“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”
“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.
“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.
The three brothers all pause and look at him.
“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.
“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.
Danny pulls it back out of reach.
“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.
“What do you-“
But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.
The batboys glance at each other.
“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”
“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”
“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.
“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”
“Cool. That’s fine.”
**
After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#red hood#tim drake#duke thomas#mad scientist#danny phantom#batman
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so much
pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara x f!reader
summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i blacked out again.
Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants.
This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.”
Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do.
“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous.
“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours.
“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants.
“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”
(“... So fucking bad but…”)
Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.
What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…
“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”
Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’
The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs.
He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes.
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”
“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him.
You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.
(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)
“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you.
“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles.
("... strange, abnormal,")
“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re- like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”
He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.
("No matter what I do.")
“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips.
You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes.
“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”
(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)
You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him.
You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”
(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)
You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing.
“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.
He’s cumming the moment he can see your face.
You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.
You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest.
“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.”
(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)
(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier.
(‘I love that.”)
thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!
#miguel o’hara smut#miguel smut#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miguel x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara spider man#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara#2099#sm 2099#miguel 2099#marvel 2099#miguel o hara#astv miguel#miguel atsv#luvrxfics#luvrxsmut
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Taking Calls
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.
Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)
Word Count: 1.2K
Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23
Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.
The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.
Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.
You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.
You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.
“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”
He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.
As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.
“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.
“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.
However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.
Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.
Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.
“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.
“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.
“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”
“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”
“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.
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Tantrum
Summary- Art’s girlfriend sucks at tennis. He helps her feel better.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Stanford era Art. Exhibitionism. Body worship. Cunnilingus. Wee bit of fingering. P in V sex. Riding. The fluffiest giggliest sex you've ever seen. Me not knowing a damn thing about tennis.
Author's Note- Hi idk if you noticed but i have Challengers brain rot rn specifically for Art Donaldson :// As a theatre kid I simply had no choice it was always gonna be him. Read the full fic on AO3.
When Art had looked up at her with big pleading eyes, all but begging her to allow him to teach her the basics of tennis, she was in no position to refuse. It had been sweet, how badly he wanted to share his passion with her, the kisses he had peppered across her neck and chest in order to entice her into it, and she couldn’t so much as imagine denying him. Forget the fact that she had never held a racket in her life, that her strengths had always been rooted in academia rather than athletics. If allowing him to teach her would make him happy, she would do it.
Though not without complaint.
She lets out a frustrated grunt as the ball hits the net- again- before turning her head up to glare at Art when he barely manages to stifle his laugh. He smothers it immediately when he catches sight of her glower, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as if he can physically wipe away his smile and she feels her teeth grind together.
“You can’t laugh. You’re the one who wanted me to do this so you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” she complains, her voice half petulance half hurt and immediately his face morphs into something more apologetic.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes his way closer but she simply rolls her eyes, turning her nose up when he reaches out to her. He takes it in stride. “I’m not laughing at you, you’re doing very well. It’s just funny to see you so frustrated.”
It’s her turn to laugh, though it is little more than a humourless bark. “I am not doing very well. I suck.”
He makes a sympathetic noise as he attempts to reach for her again. She allows it begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as his hands close around her elbows, face dropping into her neck to press a kiss there. She thinks that he’s about to praise her further, try to coax her back into committing herself to the game, but he stays silent, continuing to lavish her with silent kisses.
She’s happy for the odd hour they decided to come here, the tennis court completely devoid of any other life. It’s a colder night than it should be for mid spring, the floodlights and moon the only two things to provide them with any light, and she’s grateful finals have chased everyone else away. She’s glad to have this time alone with him, despite her frustration. To feel like they are the only two people in the world.
“You’re just hitting the ball too hard,” he explains, face still half buried in her throat. “And you aren’t even attempting to aim. Putting everything you have behind the hit doesn’t make it a good one if you don’t know where you’re sending it. There’s more to tennis than just force, you have to be smart about it.”
She scoffs, reaching up to press her palm against his forehead and shove him away, ignoring the shit eating grin that’s made itself known on his face. “Just go over there and hit the damn ball. Before I leave you here by yourself.”
The grin doesn’t fade, his amusement more than clear, but he does as she asks, returning to his side of the court. She lets out another aggravated sigh as she returns to the position he had told her to wait in, knees bent as she waits for him to serve, realizing more and more that she prefers to watch him play tennis rather than do it with him. She finds far more joy watching him from the stands as he chases after the ball, sweat dripping from his curls and grunts echoing in her ears. Here, where she is the one chasing the ball like a damn dog and failing to send it sailing over the net when she does manage to catch it, there is no time to admire Art in his element.
She almost feels bad for her poor attitude, wishing she was less competitive so that she could simply enjoy this quality time with him, but every failure does nothing but enrage her further, sending her spiralling further into frustration.
Read the rest here :)
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