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natsukishinomiyaswife · 2 months

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⋆ 𝓥𝓲𝓵 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓮𝓷𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓽: 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓢𝓸 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

⋆ Being a celebrity was never easy. The public always having their eye on you, watching your every move. Having to make sure you look perfect, sound perfect, act perfect, all to maintain the image you have created. It can be frustrating, exhausting even, the lengths you have to go through for your career. Though the hardest part for Vil was having to be away from you, his love, his darling.

⋆ He never expected to fall in love until he met you, always focusing on his career. Now when he kisses someone, he longs for it to be you, picturing you as he closes his eyes. When he says sweet words to his costar, he imagines he’s saying them to you, unable to hold back his emotions as he gazes into their eyes, saying he loves them. With you, he was no longer Vil Schoenheit, famous actor. He was just Vil, the dedicated, hardworking man you fell in love with.

⋆ There was no need for masks, for polite words or fake smiles. You knew him for who he was, and loved him for who he was, not for his status or fame. With you he felt seen, he felt heard. The times when he’s had to train for a role, practicing to perfect what he needed to do, you’d be there, recognizing the effort he put in. Even when no one else would, and he felt frustrated and defeated, a simple text from you would make everything worth it.

⋆ Due to his work, there were times where he had to be away, traveling to star in a film or go to a photo shoot. During those times you would stay in contact however you could, through texts or phone calls. He would be sitting in his chair, getting his make up done when his phone goes off, a small smile coming to his face as he sees it’s you. Though he doesn’t have much time to respond, your messages brighten his day, giving him motivation. Knowing that one day you’ll see the film he’s in, or the photo he’s getting taken, makes him want to do the very best he can. He wants your eyes only on him, your attention focused on him and him alone.

⋆ He can’t help but feel proud in those moments, seeing you unable to take your eyes away from the screen. How you would turn to him, telling him in amazement how well he did, how much you loved his performance. Noting all the work he put in for the role, acknowledging his time and dedication. There was no one he wanted to impress more than you, no matter how long you’ve been together.

⋆ There were times when he would miss your presence more than usual, looking at pictures of the two of you fondly. During these times he would feel conflicted, wishing to hear your voice but not wanting to disturb you, a time difference separating you now. In a moment of weakness he would give in, his heart skipping a beat as you answered, sounding like you just woke up. He would apologize for waking you, tempted to hang up. You would reassure him, making yourself more comfortable in your bed as you talked. He told you about his day, how his work was going, how much longer he’d be away. You would listen, humming in acknowledgement as you tried your best to stay awake.

⋆ “You make me so happy, Vil” you mumble sleepily, unaware of your words. The line goes silent, making you think he had hung up. On the other end Vil stared at his phone, quiet as hidden insecurities took hold. With his career and fame you didn’t necessarily have a “normal” relationship, Vil keeping it a secret from the public. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, to keep you to himself. Were you truly happy with that? With him being away for long periods of time, unable to show you off as you deserved?

⋆ “…do you mean it?” he whispers, desperately wanting to take it back as soon as it spilled out. It took a moment before you responded, sounding more awake this time,

“There is no one I would want to be with but you, Vil. No one could ever make me as happy as you have.”

⋆ He shuts his eyes, taking a shaky breath at your words. You knew him so well, his doubts, his insecurities. How could he ever be with anyone but you, fall for anyone but you. You’ve ruined him, utterly and completely.

“There is no such thing as a happy ending if it doesn’t include you, my love. So stay with me, please. That’s all I ask.” ♡

Originally posted: February 26th, 2024

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader

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lovelyghst · 6 months

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cw: slapping and degrading done by ghost, please scroll if that makes you uncomfy!! also slightly ib this post by @konigsblog ily

anyways ghost gets sooo mad when you won’t be quiet when he tells you to. sometimes he just needs a sweet thing to take his frustrations out on with having such a high stress job and all, and luckily the perfect girl is on standby to help him out, eagerly take it all with no complaint. or at least that’s what he thinks at first, before you do what no person has ever dared to and you flat out disrespect his orders to keep hushed and still. it’s gotten to the point where you can’t even recognize the line between doing it ‘cause you’re unable to help yourself, and simply pushing for your own fun, to get a reaction.

never in his life has he had such short of a temper over little things like unwanted noise, and you’ve ruined him. he beats himself up over it each and every time, expecting better from himself, only to turn around and succumb to it again and again, and again.

at first he’d just slow his movements when you got too cockdrunk to hear his warnings, scolding you lowly to get a fuckin’ grip and focus so his mates wouldn’t hear you in the next room over, which they most certainly could. though, when you only whined and mewled as you desperately tried to grind your hips against his to get him moving again, he knew his commands were worth nothing to you.

ordering you to shut the fuck up with such a venomous spit that’d have others assuming you’ve insulted him gravely if it weren’t for your immediate giggles afterwards. slapping you across the face without warning, only for you to moan even louder in response and the only other option his mind goes to is fucking you deeper and slapping you harder as frustration builds too quickly in his lungs.

punishing you with not allowing you to finish, the meanest names spilling from his lips he’d never soberly think to address a woman by. he’s utterly baffled when you keep prying for his pleasure and his only, more of his touch even after he edges you for days on end.

wrapping a rough hand around your throat to cut off your air and hopefully your vocals, and clamping an extra hand over your mouth because you still refuse to relent. he squeezes so hard and with a strength that only turns you on impossibly more, making an effort for even more of his cock despite practically being incapacitated.

he truly hates it all. he hates the way his dick gets hard at the idea of slapping you into place, and how a smile creeps onto his lips once he’s finally paralyzed you beyond speaking. christ, and he despises how he still wants to do it all even when he’s in the mood to hear your moans and whimpers. yet, he continuously comes back after each mission to pretty, little you waiting in an empty office, ready for whatever abuse he’s gonna give you in the name of his pleasure.

#cod mw #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut

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reminiscingtonight · 8 months

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Habit To Kick

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Listened to 90 Days by P!nk and Wrabel and this was the product

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s the little things.

Humming in the kitchen, feet jokingly kicking at you whenever you walk by her spot perched on the counter. A hand on your back as she reaches over you to grab the hat you carelessly threw on top of the cabinet, a toothy smile as she pulls it on a little too low on your head.

It’s easy to love Leah.

When you're wearing a jacket of hers, laughing off a joke when someone asks why you’re wearing it. When Leah makes up an excuse of your clumsiness resulting in a shirt full of sauce, an act of kindness, rather than the truth of you slipping out her house at 5am, a little too early to be anything other than the end of a night spent together.

You love her, but you have an inkling she doesn’t love you the same.

It began with tinted car windows. Dates held in secrecy. You’ve always fancied the English captain. It came as a shock when she seemingly fancied you back.

You understood her want to keep your relationship under wraps. Leah never enjoyed the attention. Public scrutiny always ruins the good things.

You try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. That this “good thing” is enough to combat the ache in your heart when she avoids you when out with friends. When she spends the night dancing with your teammates than cuddled by your side.

But it’s worth it when she wakes you up with breakfast in bed. When Leah buys your favorite snacks and favorite drinks when you’re feeling a little homesick. When you’ve had a long day and she still takes the time to help you wash your hair, despite being worn to the bone just like you.

It’s worth it until it suddenly... stops.

An injury is horrible, you both know it. Leah tears her ACL and you’re left to pick up the pieces, to cheer her up when there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. She tries to mask her pain but you know she appreciates all you do for her.

And then you tear yours too.

Leah leaves.

She’s a little over two months clear of her surgery and she leaves.

Your apartment feels bare whenever you return to your empty apartment. You thought you would rehab together, but Leah leaves you by yourself as you both try coping with the loss of your season.

Leah still calls you. It’s few in between but she still tries to make an effort.

You pretend not to notice the far away look in her eyes when she’s on the phone. The look that tells you she’d rather be anywhere than here, rehashing the pain both of you are living.

Leah seems to be doing well, ahead of schedule as she simultaneously travels the world and gets her leg back into shape.

She seems to be moving on as you start falling behind.

You get your first surgery.

And then a second one.

And then a third.

While Leah is making bounds and leaps you hit setback after setback.

She starts missing calls. You stop trying to get her to pick them up.

Jen comments on how strange it is to see you around Colney without your best friend attached at the hip. You make up a lame excuse, heart cracking at every word. The way Kim cringes tells you at least someone on the team knows what you’ve been hiding.

Before you know it the season has started up again. The season starts and Leah’s finally back home.

There’s a body sleeping beside you again, but you already know it’s coming to an end.

Leah spends her time out with Lia, singing karaoke with Katie, joking around with Beth. She’s out all day, never coming home until you’re already in bed, back turned to her as you try desperately to remember what it was like when she once loved you.

It’s a random day in the middle of the week. You’re tired, having spent another day at the doctors, eyes all cried out from tears of frustration when you finally returned home. It’s a surprise when you hear the turn of keys not long after.

You’ve only just made yourself look presentable when she walks into the kitchen, pausing to take in your bloodshot eyes. Leah’s eyebrows furrow as she cautiously reaches a hand towards you.

When her touch doesn’t bring you the comfort you’ve been aching so long for, you know it’s the end.

“If you’re going to break up with me you should just do it.”

Leah looks like a deer caught in headlights. She looks alarmed, but you can also see the guilt in her eyes.

You try ignoring the burning in your eyes, sliding the piece of paper over the table to her.

Leah’s eyes track the letter, pausing when it becomes clear what it says.

“Jonas is asking me if I’d like to leave the club. If I want to rehab and start over back in the states.”

Leah’s smile is one of your favorite things about her. The toothiness of her grin as she finds something funny never stops making your heart feel things.

Every smile you get from her feels addicting, an addiction you never get sick of, a habit you never wanted to kick.

But as much as you want to stay, you know Leah has to want you as much as you do to make it work. You want this to be worth something other than a love caught out in limbo, forever hoping Leah will love you the same way, forever fighting back tears when she walks away.

You want Leah to want you to stay.

The LA sun feels warm on your back when you finally strap on your boots again.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #Ace writes

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starletdawn · 4 months

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palces out of paragraphs

You sit on your bed eyes glued to your notes and your a sheet of paper. You had a 6 page essay coming up and it was worth 70% of your grade. You suddenly hear a knock. you jump from your bed. “Coming!” you say loudly expecting your parents back from their date night. As you open the door weirdly enough no one is there. You hear the knock again you turn around, and see your boyfriend Jason Dean waiting for you like a little puppy outside your bedroom window. For some reason he was obsessed with climbing your window this was honestly normal behavior for him. You quickly open the window and before you can say anything he goes into your room. He immediately wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into a soft kiss. “What are you doing here baby?” I say as I pull away softly. “Well, I’ve barely seen you today at school. Where have you been my love?” he responds “I’ve been working on my essay I want a really good grade,” I say softly. “Well, now that you’re done with your essay what should we do? I mean I saw your parents leave the house earlier and I was thinking we could…” He smirks now putting his hands on your hips. “There are still some things I still have to review for my test.” You sigh as you bite your lip nervously “And I don't want any distractions.” “C’mon let me stay darling” He pouts leaning in to your cheek giving it a gentle kiss. “Okay, but promise to not distract me.”Promise!” He says you go back to studying. He plays with my hair and fidgets with your cat plushie. “I don’t understand why you try so hard once we get married I’ll spoil you with everything you want.You won’t have to work for a day.” He remarked although you rolled eyes your heart flutter at the thought of you being more than just a highschool fling. “On second thought I would love a smart-ass as my lover” JD teases. After a few minutes you started getting frustrated and tired. Your hands starts hurting and you can barely keep your eyes open the worst part was that you weren’t even close to done. “You should take a break sweetheart” Jason says looking into your tired eyes “No, I can’t” I groan. “You’ll be able to get more done if you’re energized. “C’mon just take a short break and then you can go back to working.” ”Fine” You finally give in. You lay your head on his chest He caress your hair and cheek. “You’re so gorgeous my dear I could stare at you forever and never get tired. You’re honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His words, his tender touch on my skin, His beautiful eyes all caused my body to relax and before I knew it I was in a deep slumber.

The cold breeze hits your arms goosebumps on your skin. You slowly open your eyes to complete darkness. You look over to your clock it’s 2:00am and Jason is no longer here. “He must’ve left” you thought to yourself. You quickly realized that you forgot to finish your essay you panic searching inside you backpack you find the essay and you suddenly realize It’s all done. All 6 pages filled with information you found a sticky note plastered to it. It read “I used all your notes and resources I tried my best to follow the prompt and use correct grammar I hope you like it my dear. Sincerely, JD” After reading through it. I was honestly surprised I knew Jason was smart (when it benefited him) but oh shit the essay was perfect. Despite his usual bad handwriting he wrote the essay in neat writing and honestly it looked like he put a lot effort into the paper for such short time. You put your essay back into the paper thinking about how lucky you were to have such a precious boyfriend.

This my first writing I’ve published so please be nice but feedback is welcome!!💗💗

#jd x you #jason dean #heather mcnamara #jason dean x reader #jason dean x you #christian slater #heathers #heather duke #heather chandler #veronica sawyer #jd heathers #fluff #oneshot

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onlyjaeyun · 2 months

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i'm gonna log off for a while because i'm really mentally drained from constantly hearing how unhappy and disappointed some of you guys were with both SB and CH'snendings and developments.

i know some of you guys come from a good place and mean no harm but imagine working on something for so long and then you yourself are already sad about how things ended but you wanna use it as a way to do better next time but people constantly tell you how you should do better next time and its always "i was so excited but it never came" and "i wished things would have gone this way" after you spent days crying out of frustration because your brain didn't corporate.

people who have never written (one shots or series doesnt matter) don't know the burden of leaving unfinished works up there. i keep telling you guys that i tried so hard to somehow give you guys an ending because if i hadn't you guys would have never received ANY ending so i tried to make the best of it.

i dont take the hate to heart anymore bc i couldnt care less and i know as a writer i should be open to criticism but i'm a little tired of my work being constantly nitpicked when i do this for fun.

i know updating daily was what burnt me out pls stop telling me that i obviously overestimated myself i fucking know.

whatever, it actually doesn't matter anymore because CH is over and i dont think i'll ever write smaus that long ever again bc the criticism is so not worth the mental effort and stress.

i do this for FUN. you know how artists doodle in their notebooks, this is what this blog is to me. i make mistakes, i over/underestimate things and myself bc this is life. it's just..not that deep for y'all to constantly camp in my inbox and make me feel bad about it when i already accepted it.

i'm gonna do some self reflection and think about it all so take care babies 🤍

#; rambles #i've literally been receiving huge paragraphs about just how excited people were about certain things in both CH and SB and several people #have told me how i should have just stopped daily updating and listening to y'all and taking breaks and not burn myself out bc now they're #disappointed and it sounds a LOT like my parents when they realised im just another burnt out former gifted child so #i'll see you guys around 🤍

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painted-bees · 17 days

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You know, if/when Margie ever goes to get assessed for ADHD or such, it'll be over some executive function-related failure on a project that she had hoped would prove to her that she can excel at things so long as she actually 'cares' about them. It'd be something music related for sure--maybe some kind of collaborative videogame music charity thing that some other online music nerds have organized together--I dunno what the indie online musician equivalent of a "zine" is lmfao

Like, it's not even a big prestige thing, and she's not getting any money from it--but it's an exciting project and she gets to compose covers of her favorite viddy game songs and have her music featured alongside other artists she enjoys. But--you know, there's a hard deadline. And there are certain expectations--she want's to make something good and memorable with this.

She gets started on it, and it's going well--well enough for her to be like, "great, I can come back to this later and I'll have it done no problem!" And then she forgets. And then she gets a reminder in her email that submissions are due by the end of the week. The email was sent on Monday, it's Thursday evening. She panics, and tries to put together the rest of the composition that same night, dismayed beyond words that she had put this thing off until literally the last minute. And it's not coming together, she had this great sound and idea in her head, and now it's failing to materialize for her. Her mounting frustration and panic has built up past being a helpful motivator, and is now actively sabotaging her efforts until she can't do anything but cry about it. It's 3 am, the work isn't done, it's isn't going to get done...she utterly failed. At this thing she's good at, that she wanted to do, that she was eager to be a part of.

Materially, she loses nothing by being like "well, I can ask for an extension, and if that's not possible then oh well." It wasn't a paid gig, it wasn't some huge, prestigious feature, there were no awards or accolades on the line, really. But it was supposed to be an easy thing she could do to remind herself that she's perfectly capable at completing things if she just--yanno--cares enoug, puts her mind to it and deems it worth her effort. It was supposed to be easy self-reassurance. And she failed.

and so she's crying in the wee hours of the morning over some small, unremarkable thing that she had chosen to do, for free, in her spare time because she hung all her confidence and self-worth on her ability to complete it in a manner that she could be proud of.

And Raf's the one holding her, trying to figure out how to impress on her that this whole fiasco is not...a suitable way of measuring her worth. Like--it's not proof that she's 'lazy'. This isn't what laziness looks like, this isn't what a "lack of care" or "lack of motivation" looks like. Ugly crying over a low-stakes, free-time, "for fun" project after forcing yourself to work fruitlessly through the night is...disordered. Like, Raf of all people, gets it. He completely understands lmao but it requires attention and help. It's not the first time he's suggested to Margie that she should book an assessment. He's offered to help her get the process started several times in the past. She's always been very "yeahhh...nah" about it. He figured it was because she was afraid of being told that there was something """wrong """ with her. Which--he empathized with a lot, and so never really pressed her about it.

But, over this specific event, it becomes clear that what Margie is most afraid of is hearing and knowing definitively that's there's nothing wrong with her. She worries that her inability to complete things on time, to remember things, to keep organized and clean and to prioritize things is just something everyone has to deal with, and they just care enough to deal with it properly--while she has somehow internalized that crying about it means she won't have to worry about it anymore. Maybe cuz she was spoiled growing up, like her parents use to suggest; that she was never truly forced to face the consequences of her inaction. And, for what ever reason, that'd mean she's just...a bad person.

And once Raf realizes that this is what has been keeping her away from getting assessed, he commits to fully pleading with her to get assessed, promising that no possible outcome will change his opinion of her at his very core. And it works. He's able to get a referral for her from his therapist, gets her booked, and over the course of three appointments, she goes through the assessment--feeling an undeterred mix of anxiety and shame all the while 'cus what if they just think "this girl walks in with a latte and a 'problem' but her real problem is that she has never experienced a real struggle in her life lol" or "she's exaggerating things just so she can get drugs, no way is anyone actually this stupid" or "this is a huge waste of time". That's not how it turns out, of course. Between the self assessment, the assessment she had to give to 3 trusted friends/family members to fill out, the IQ test, the cognitive ability tests, and whatever else happened during the dialogue between her and the psychologist--Margie gets her ADHD diagnosis and an autism diagnosis. She gets Raf to sit in with her while the psychologist goes over the results with her, 'cus she doesn't trust her ability to recite any of that information to him herself afterward lmao To her surprise (and to Raf's quiet, triumphant validation for calling it correctly), Margie's IQ is, apparently, a very sexy 136...but is undercut by remarkably low results on tests pertaining to certain cognitive abilities--to the point of qualifying as significant impairments.

On the list of treatments, medication is suggested as a footnote following a list of things including therapy, habit-building and behavioral exercises, dietary suggestions, and further reading suggestions. Which comes to her as a relief, because it's gonna take her a few more years before she's comfortable with the idea of medicating (imagining in her mind that one unfortunate unofficial Calvin and Hobbes comic that has made her fear losing her enthusiasm for her creative musical endeavors lmao). Until then though, the therapy is, perhaps, the most helpful treatment suggestion on that list. Aside from contributing to supportive mental/emotional/behavioral exercises--after the initial relief of "omg there WAS something wrong, I'm not just a bad, lazy, uncaring person!!"--the backlog of hurt that follows the "I needed help but they punished me instead" revelation provides a lot to work through.

#hi-note #magritte

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 1 year

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Cod Men in a Dating Sim

Requested: No

Warnings: Light bit of angst

A/N: Did I watch a bunch of (and by that I mean 3) dating games just so I could get inspiration for this? ……Maybe

Ghost - The Punk/Goth Guy

By far the hardest and most frustrating character to romance, Ghost’s route leaves even the most seasoned completionist in tears. People who attempt to do playthroughs of the game won’t even attempt it, and much of his route is virtually unknown. His trust is hard won and easily lost, even the tiniest of mistakes will affect your whole game with him, to the point that you could very well lose all progress with him at any point. There have been demands and petitions for the devs to change his route, calling him stupidly difficult, not worth the effort it takes. Oh but those select few who get to peek behind the curtain? Those that get to woo him and make him blush, who truly hold his heart? They’re in love, will defend him and his horrible jokes and his sad boi personality until they die.

Soap - The Himbo Jock

Soap, the cheerful and upbeat type. Always doing some sort of high energy sport in his free time, his happiness infecting you everytime you two cross paths, his smile only growing bigger every time you both talk. He always wants to be doing something with you, his arm around your waist, loud and happy and brighter than the sun. Doesn’t matter what type of activity you like doing, he wants to be doing it with you. His route is the easiest to get through and his charm draws in all kinds of people, making him almost unanimously loved through the fandom of the game. To the point that people recommending the game always say that you should start with his route first. He’s kind of the poster boy of the whole game at this point.

König - The Shy Guy

König, the sweet librarian at your local library, always so kind but painfully shy when you try and talk to him. Books almost always clutched to his chest, twiddling his thumbs and ducking his head with a blush rising under his mask if you make even the slightest attempt to get close to him, an absolute mess if you flirt with him. He’s the adorable sweetheart of the game that, even if you don’t want to romance him, is just nice and adorable in general. But when you really get into his route, he is so flirty. Granted it’s only when he thinks you can’t hear (unaware that he has literal subtitles telling you what he says). And he gets so protective, always offering to walk you everywhere and just generally tending to stick around you and show you all sorts of things he enjoys, always eager when you return the favor and show him your own favorite things.

Alejandro - The Flirt

Alejandro likely met you through your mutual friend in the game, Rudy. Coming to visit his old pal and meets you at his home, instantly all over you, suave flirtations leaving his lips every other second as he tries to get you alone every chance he can get, much to Rudy’s annoyance. At first it’s a bit of a game, just another blip in the back of his mind, nothing serious. But as time goes on, it becomes more and more serious, more genuine. His advances start to become a bit softer but now carry real feelings in them. He’s a character that many think is too sleazy at first but come to adore him and his sweet nature as you progress through his route. He’s not as loved of a character as Soap but he is in the top three, tied with Rudy.

Rudy - The Best Friend

Rudy. Sweet adorable lovable Rudy. He is the character who plays the role of the best friend with the long time crush. Very poorly hidden crush by the way. He’s never very bold with his words but his actions communicate his feelings very well. He’s always happy to talk to you, and even listens to you if you’re trying to romance another character and something goes awry. It hurts him but he puts on a good act, even if he distances a bit from you upon learning of your feelings for a different character. His sweet and supportive personality is why he ties with Alejandro in the top three favorites, and many adore him and enjoy repetitively romancing him, never seeming to get bored of finding all his secrets.

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vanishingcherry · 1 year

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Hi, could you please write a lando Norris fic with angst prompt 1 thank you 🥰

LOVE, OR LACK THEREOF

pairings: lando norris x reader

warnings: break up, implied drinking, kinda asshole lando at first

authors note: thanks for requesting! prompt 1 is "do you even love me anymore?" side note, it is so hard to find a gif of lando in which hes not smiling. also im so sorry for the ending i have no idea how to end angst

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The two of you had fallen in love surprisingly fast, but the process of falling out was slow and torturous. Fate was cruel, adamant on hurting you.

Instead of late night talks, the two of you would sleep facing the wall, neither wanting to risk seeing the other. Cute dinner dates turned into eating leftovers in different rooms, not wanting to risk a conversation. Small gifts and bouquets were to be seen no more, the house growing more dreary by the day.

You weren't sure if it was worth it anymore. You loved Lando, too much if you were being honest. But at this point, you weren't sure if he loved you back.

You noticed it at the beginning of the end. The way he always had an excuse. Whether it was streaming on twitch or calls with Zak, he never did anything with you anymore.

And you had tried, my god had you tried.

You had done everything. You had meticulously planned dates and activities based on his schedule, shifting around your own. You had been understanding, comforting, whenever he claimed he was too tired to go out to eat. You figured it was just for a while, that the stress had gotten to him and everything would be okay soon. But nothing changed, and 3 months later you found yourself in the exact same position.

Honestly? You were tired. Tired of your relationship, tired of Lando, and tired of putting effort into something he clearly didn't care about. You would give him one last chance, one last time to show he loves you.

That day, you wait for him in the living room. He had gone out with a few friends and it was well past 11pm, the time he had promised he would return.

Hearing the click of the lock, you mute the movie, watching the door open to reveal a tipsy Lando. His eyebrows furrow together at the sight of you on the couch.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asks, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"I wanted to talk to you, remember?"

"Can't we just talk tomorrow, I'm tired" he responds, before turning towards the staircase.

You knew you had to speak now, his understanding of tomorrow would never come. You look down at your hands, almost whispering the next words in fear of what his answer would be.

"Do you even love me anymore?"

"What?" He turns around immediately, looking at you.

"You heard me."

"Of course I love you, why are you even asking me that?"

"You've said it 2 times in the last week."

"What?" he scoffed. "You're counting now?"

"What else do you want me to do, Lando? We've spent maybe 1 day together in the last month. You're always making excuses and leaving and- I don't even know. What am I supposed to think?" You stand up, your voice increasing in amplitude as you grow more and more frustrated.

"I don't know Y/N, maybe trust the fact that I love you!"

"How!? You haven't given me a reason to in months." Letting out a sigh, you shake your head. "Nevermind, I don't know what I was expecting by doing all this." You get up and head to your bedroom, speeding up when you hear Lando trailing behind you. You had prepared a small bag with enough clothes for a week, should the conversation not go well.

Thankful for your foresight, you turn around and see Lando standing in the doorway, interested in finishing a conversation for the first time in ages.

"Why do you have a bag packed?"

"I'm done. I'm leaving."

It was ironic how quickly his face changed. His hard expression turned soft at the realisation of what you meant, the anger in his eyes was no more, instead it flashed with fear and sadness.

"Done... with what?" he whispered. The tables had turned, now it was him who was afraid of your answer. He waited for your answer, mouth slightly parted, taking small breaths, fearful of what would happen when you broke the tense silence.

"You. Us." Your voice was cold as steel, wanting to leave the house as soon as possible. Leave him as soon as possible. You could feel the emotions building up inside of you, threatening to burst out, but you hold on, not wanting to cry in front of him.

You try walking past him, but his hand grabs your own, pulling you into his arms. He was now stood directly in front of you, still blocking the doorway.

"Darling I- I get that you're mad but we don't have to break up." His voice is hesitant, not wanting to accidentally say something to upset you further. "

"We do, Lando."

"No no no. We can- I can fix this, darling. How about we spend time together this week? Yeah? I'll clear everything, it'll be just the two of us, all week." His mind was scrambling, going through every possible action, trying to think of ways to make you stay. "Please, my love. I love you, I promise, so much. I'll say it a million times a day, forever."

You sigh, eyes filling up with water as you try to hold back the tears. He didn't deserve to see you cry, see how much he had hurt you. "Lando, I would've given anything for that a few days ago, hell even a few hours ago. But you didn't care until it was too late, and that's not my fault." You don't look at his face, knowing that his expression would break you. Instead you look past him at the door, shrugging off his hands and walking away.

"Wait! I- I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry and I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I love you. I'll do anything, my love. Anything. Tell me what you want and I'll do it."

You stop, but don't turn around, knowing that Lando was standing right behind you. "I don't want anything from you anymore, not when I know all I'll get is disappointment."

You leave, heading to your car. Lando stands still, staring at the door, watching, praying that you would come back. That he hadn't messed up to that point. That it was all just a nightmare.

732 notes · View notes

inaflashimagine · 1 year

Text

lo mejor (i)

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader (can be read as reader being latine)

summary: nueva york had no shortage of places that sold empanadas. unfortunately, that didn’t equate to all of them being good.

but he continued to find himself going to your restaurant, a few of the other spider-people less than convinced that it's just for your food.

a/n: as a latina who also eats empanadas to cure their hanger, i just needed to get this off my chest. will be a multi-part fic!

3k wc. no warnings for this chapter, other than a litany of english + spanish curses

masterlist | one | two

–

“I’m in hiding. He’s angry at me…again…”

As much as the kid was growing on Jess, she sent an unimpressed look at the flickering hologram. “In other news, water is wet.”

“But seriously, how can he expect me to write a report only 5 minutes after I finish a mission? He’s worse than my AP Lit teacher, and Ms. O’Connor was—”

“Gwen, I’m gonna stop you right there. Because we’ve been through this before. You know how to fix this.”

Though her face was covered by her mask, the widening of her goggles before her shoulders sagged in defeat showed Jess that Gwen knew exactly what to do.

“But can’t you come with me? What if I mess up the order?”

“Are you kidding me right now? Didn’t you want me to ‘chill with the hovering’?”

Gwen sighed, already starting to swing her way through Nueva York to get to her destination. “I know, I know, I’ll go. Do you want anything?”

“No need, it sounds like you might have to buy the whole store to be in his good graces again. Good luck.”

Her mentor logged off before hearing her star pupil groan in frustration—what was supposed to be an effortless day was quickly becoming a pain in her ass.

Like countless times before, Gwen quickly changed into her set of ‘futuristic’ civilian clothes to blend in with the rest of the long line at the tiny, but packed, restaurant. If it weren’t for the enticing smell of freshly baked dough, Gwen wondered if this would all be worth it. She’d have to cancel the jam session with Hobie if this plan didn’t work, lest she face the wrath of the villain of the week, Miguel O’Hara.

But when she finally saw a familiar smile and a warm pair of eyes greeting her behind the counter, she realized that Jess was right—she knew how to fix this.

Or rather, you did.

“Mi gringa favorita! It’s been a while. How many empanadas does el jefe need?”

–

Miguel was having a bad day.

It started with the usual suspect: Peter B., un pendejo who believed that Miguel and Jess actually wanted to hear about his daughter’s bowel movements.

Not to mention the impromptu comedy club Miguel had to break down so everyone could get back to doing the jobs they forgot they signed up for. (Nothing was more irritating than being surrounded by unfunny people who genuinely thought their endless quips and corny jokes landed. Every. Single. Time.)

Then for the umpteenth time, he had to tell Gwen to turn in her reports on time. Yet that was nothing compared to her latest efforts in convincing Miguel to let Miles visit HQ and gently explain (gently because, “He doesn’t know any better!”) that he’s the biggest threat to the multi-verse. These poor attempts, unsurprisingly, fell flat. O’Hara warned Jess that the girl would be a liability, and each day he grew closer to sending the kid back to Earth-65 if she decided to pull any tricks.

But the worst part of this dreadful day was when a nervous, slightly cowering Chef Spidey told his boss there were no more empanadas.

“What?” Miguel’s brows furrowed in confusion, indifferent to the uncomfortable silence that enveloped the cafeteria at the sound of his incredulity. “What do you mean, there’s no more empanadas? Who ate the last one?”

“He promised me not to tell you!”

And with that, Miguel stalked to his office where he was currently sulking in, seriously considering changing Peter B.’s portal watch to a day pass as punishment for apparently eating over a half dozen empanadas.

Just as he was about to give Lyla the command, his associate in the heart sunglasses suddenly appeared. “Gwen Stacy will be here in a minute, might want to start lowering your platform.”

“Maldita sea, didn’t I tell you to not let anyone in?” He pinched the bridge of his nose—he’d much prefer for his ears to be rattled with Peter B.‘s ramblings and even Ben Reilly’s moping over Gwen’s incessant whining about how crappy the current Spider Society establishment was. (She was spending way too much time with Hobie.)

“Hey pal, that’s not a nice word, and she comes bearing gifts that you’ll like.”

“Oh really?” he remarked dryly, arms crossed as he began his descent. “She finished the ten detailed reports she owes me?”

Yet Miguel caught the heavenly smell of beef empanadas before seeing Gwen’s sheepish face. And did he also catch a whiff of chorizo and cheese?

“Hi, Miguel. Heard you haven’t had lunch yet, sooooo…” Shaking off her nerves and avoiding that terrifying gaze, she held out the two large boxes as her apology. “And I’ll submit those reports by tonight, I promise.”

An eyebrow raised, he webbed the boxes toward himself and held them even more tightly when he saw where they came from.

His eyes glossed over the mascot of Mama’s Empanadas, a smiling and waving empanada that almost seemed to assure him that his hanger would quickly be cured. But it was the words hurriedly scribbled at the bottom that displaced the rage he’s felt all day with a weird pang in his chest:

“Buen provecho, Jefe :)”

Miguel quickly turned away, hoping he seemed more composed than he actually felt. As the floor to his office slowly began to ascend, he said, “I’ll give you one more day to finish those reports. But don’t think it’s because this bribe worked.”

“Of course.” Gwen hoped the amusement wasn’t clear in her voice, smirking at the shoulders of the tall man lose their tension as he began eating the ‘bribe’. Would Hobie even believe her if she told him what just happened?

“Thanks, Miguel. See you tomorrow!”

He didn’t even register her last words, eyes closed as he savored the explosive taste of smoked chorizo and finally allowed fond memories to flood his brain.

—

Nueva York had no shortage of places that sold empanadas. Unfortunately, that didn’t equate to all of them being good.

It’s not that he didn’t know how to make them–he’s sure that he could follow his abuela’s recipes that his ma once gave him–but he just didn’t have time. After all, nothing was more convenient than cashing in the perks of the suit to cut a long line and grab free food. But once Lyla finished the goober she was working on (“It’s not a goober, Miguel, it’s a gizmo!”), he’d have even less time to do anything other than jump into different dimensions, some of which would certainly not sell empanadas.

This explained why after changing into sweats following a grueling shift, he found himself staring across the busy street at Mama’s Empanadas, the hunger in his growling stomach overwhelming. The small restaurant was engulfed by flashing neon lights and signs boasting the quality of their food in both Spanish and English. The place was always swarming with people whenever he swung by, but as closing time approached only a few stragglers remained.

And so did you.

Miguel hoped that you were the owner of the shop rather than an overworked employee, considering that he couldn’t remember the last time someone else took your position behind the counter. But even from this distance, he could see your cheery smile while you welcomed new patrons and the regulars, almost as if you were genuinely happy to be serving them on a late Friday night.

With all the running around he’s been doing lately, he couldn’t even remember the last time taking on the Spider-Man mantle gave him the same joy he spotted on your face miles away.

O’Hara felt his phone vibrate as he saw the latest message from Lyla illuminating his screen.

“Got some news to share! Might want to deliver the bad stuff in person though.”

“Que chingada,” Miguel cursed, rubbing tired eyes as he contemplated whether to reply. How could the news get even worse after Earth-1610 lost Peter Parker, their only Spider-Man?

Raising his head, he watched you approach the storefront to activate the electrified gates that would close the shop.

And for reasons his brain would never be able to explain, he felt himself panic, almost as if his body jolted awake as he deftly weaved through honking cars and found himself in front of you, the only barrier being a pesky glass door that would take a millisecond for him to break.

Yet he was surprised to see you hold your ground, and even more shocked to see you flash him an annoyed look he’s never seen you give to any other customer. Shoulders tense, he was ready for you to begin berating him for being a nuisance and to leave the fuck off the premises.

“Eres un idiota? ¡Casi te atropellan!”

Miguel blinked, not sure he heard you correctly. Sure, calling him an idiot is warranted, but he was not almost run over by those cars. Even if he did get hit–which, again, he wouldn’t–then the car would be hurt, not him.

Instead of explaining himself without implicating his alter persona, or at the very least say something remotely coherent in English or Spanish, Miguel found himself even more gobsmacked when you opened the door and ushered him inside, frantically asking him questions in a random jumble of Spanglish as you tried inspecting a man seemingly twice your size for any injuries.

“¿No hablas español? Should I call 911, mierda, is this guy catatonic? Should I have moved him? Are you hurt?”

Feeling your hands shake his shoulders finally snapped him out of whatever funk he was in, confusion washing over him as he tried to piece together what just happened in the past minute. Heeding your obvious concern, he sighed and did his best to ignore the absolutely embarrassing predicament he put himself in.

“Estoy bien,” he assured you, his relief matching yours as you let go and immediately exhaled. “I really am fine, I just wanted to try the empanadas before closing.”

There was that exasperation again, your deadly expression sufficient in asking him ‘Are you serious?’ that your high-pitched words of “En serio?” were quite unnecessary, in his opinion.

“Was running across a congested street not serious enough?”

You scoffed before glaring at him for a few more seconds, though he could see the uncertain shift in your eyes. “This isn’t some twisted joke to rob me, right? Last thing I need is having Spider-Man beating you up and breaking my new glass counter.”

Miguel couldn’t hide the wry twist of his lips, fully aware that he could be thrown out at any minute but still curious to hear your opinion. “Not a Spider-Man fan?”

“As long as he doesn’t destroy my property, I wouldn’t even mind defending the dude on J. Jonah Jameson’s stupid podcast.“ You shrugged casually, already beginning to make your way behind the counter after deeming Miguel to be harmless, despite looking like he could crush you with his pinky.

He didn’t know how to respond, still perplexed about why you hadn't kicked him out yet.

He soon brushed those thoughts to the side when his mouth watered upon seeing you point at the remaining golden-brown pastries. “Well, these will be on the house, since you almost died in front of my restaurant. We only have 3 chicken left, 2 guava and cheese, and 1 chorizo with potato.”

Miguel felt his phone vibrate again–no doubt it was Lyla.

And for the first time in a long time, he turned off his phone, not even bothering to view the message as he chose to look at you instead.

“I’ll take them all.”

–

When you first decided to take over your family’s restaurant, your tía taught you how to handle rude customers while also giving you advice on how to treat the nice ones so they always returned.

However, there was nothing in her playbook on how to treat the weird customers.

And Miguel O’Hara was the weirdest by far.

You took a light sip of your café con leche as you stole a glance at him starting his second empanada, the sight of such a quiet, large man sitting in a tiny seat and restraining his urge to inhale the food in one go quite comical. Much like how he ate the first one, he attempted to seem unaffected by the taste of the meaty filling.

But after doing this for so many years, no one could ever hide their reaction from you. Especially the pure happiness one got from eating a toasty, savory empanada.

And seeing the dark red-brown eyes of the intimidating man briefly widening and softening in amazement only made you want to find more ways to recapture that fleeting moment. To lengthen it and bask in its warmth, even if that meant countless hours of mincing, seasoning, kneading, and baking.

“¿Entonces? The only thing you’ve said these past five minutes is your name. ¿Que dice el juez?” you teased, leaning back and smugly folding your arms as you already knew what his verdict would be.

It was a choice you instantly regretted, almost falling out of your chair as he stopped looking at his half-finished empanada and focused all of his attention on you, a gaze so intense you briefly pondered if you left the oven on with the sudden swell of heat suffocating you.

He pursed his lips and rolled those impossibly broad shoulders, yet another action that made the room feel uncomfortably stuffy for no good reason. “It’s one of the best empanadas I’ve ever had in my life.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised, expecting to hear a ‘good’ or maybe even a ‘great’, but not the highest of praises.

A pregnant pause ensued before a hearty laugh escaped you.

It was impossible to suspend your disbelief–all of this coming from one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen enter this shop? Only when pigs fly, or as your abuela preferred to say, “Solo cuando los cerdos vuelan.”

“¡Mentiroso! Lo dices como si fuera la última Coca-Cola en el desierto.”

He had to know that his half-glare really was just him smoldering. There was no way this man was oblivious to the effects of that gaze.

“I don’t think I’m a liar or particularly funny. Though I actually would appreciate a Coca, si la tienes.”

You desperately hoped that your immediate sigh sounded one stemming from annoyance rather than relief–having an excuse to get up and look for a can of soda rather than the brooding dude a mere foot away from you was the only way you’d stay sane through this strange night.

“I do appreciate the kind words,” you said after recollecting your composure, the cool air blasting from the fridge reminding you to retain at least some semblance of professionalism, “but these aren’t even the freshest batch. No way they’re the best you’ve had.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow as you handed him the can. “I didn’t say the best. And you don’t have any with a glass bottle?”

You rolled your eyes before plopping back into your seat. “If I did, I would’ve hit you in the head with it quite a while ago. And especially now, after your challenge.”

“It’s not meant to be taken as a challenge–”

“Ah, but I’ll take it as one because my family’s reputation is riding on this. Or else mi abuela, que en paz descanse”–you pointed to the framed picture of the sweet, old lady right above the cash register–“lanzará sus chanclas poderosas, and I don’t want to get hit by those, they’re stronger than that car that was about to run you over.”

The roll of his eyes was obnoxiously overt, but you barely caught a glimpse of the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, masterfully hidden by taking a sip of his coke.

“How would this so-called challenge even work?”

“You’re asking the wrong question because that’s an easy answer. The next time you come, I’ll bake you a fresh batch of your favorite empanadas, no matter what kind and even if you come 5 minutes before closing.” Listing the types with each finger, it’s hard to contain your excitement. “Baked, fried, sweet, savory, you name it.”

“¿Y si no me gustan?”

“¡No seas tonto! Yet another dumb question, because you’ll not only like them, you’ll fucking love them. The right question is whether you’d think they’re the best.”

You swore he inched closer, the once faint smell of sandalwood from his cologne now overpowering your already-fried senses. “And what if they’re not the best?”

“I’ll get two more attempts afterward. If they still don’t meet your palate’s expectations, which honestly isn’t a worry of mine, then you’ll get free empanadas for the year.” It’s said without hesitation, with confidence you have no idea how you mustered all of a sudden.

Out of all moments to be driven by pride, you choose to do so while tightrope walking on a straight razor.

And you wondered if Miguel read your mind because, for the first time, you heard his laugh. It’s a sardonic one, but its deep timbre was as attractive as his face and meshed well with his incredibly dry sense of humor.

Maybe the walk wouldn’t be as bad as you imagined.

“You’re either extremely arrogant in thinking you’ll win, or too trustful in people to believe they wouldn’t scam you with this deal.”

“But you’re not just some normal person,” you reply simply, amused to see his shoulders slightly stiffened, “and I believe you when you said you’re not a liar. Call it a gut feeling.”

“What do you even get out of this?” he asked, puzzled at how you just weren’t setting yourself up for failure. He didn’t need Lyla for him to visualize the thousands of ways you could lose.

Your wolfish grin showed a lot more than your words. “Nothing, other than making my family proud. Anddd perhaps receiving a five-star review on Yelp wouldn’t hurt either.”

Running a hand through his hair, he shrugged before lifting his soda can toward you. “That’s the least I could do. But don’t think I’ll make this easy for you.”

You gently clinked his can with your cup of coffee as your eyes locked with his, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

–

translations (please lmk if you need more):

Mi gringa favorita - my favorite white girl

El jefe - the boss

Un pendejo - a dumbass

Maldita sea - goddamn it

Buen provecho, Jefe - Enjoy your meal, boss

Que chingada - what bullshit/wtf

Eres un idiota? ¡Casi te atropellan! - Are you an idiot? They almost ran you over!

No hablas espanol? - You don't speak Spanish

Estoy bien - I'm fine

Que dice el juez - What does the judge say?

¡Mentiroso! Lo dices como si fuera la última Coca-Cola en el desierto - Liar! You say it as if it was the last coca-cola in the desert

Una coca - A Coca Cola

Si la tienes - If you have it

Que en paza descanse - may she rip

Lanzarla las chanclas poderosas - she'll release her powerful flip-flops

Y si no me gustan? - And if I don't like it?

No seas tonto - Don't be silly/dumb

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #astv x reader #lo mejor series

672 notes · View notes

monalogs · 2 months

Note

U SHOULD DO NYEN NEXT!! ^^

Catfight | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - noncon, violence/aggression, injuries, degradation, dacryphilla, face slapping, scratching, face-fucking, breathplay. surprisingly no knives :0

a/n - was supposed to come out earlier today but tumblr gets picky about my internet connection and doesn’t work sometimes </3 this fic is just a leedle more longer so i hope you enjoy !! i’ve been appreciating all the support, as always requests are open :) another nyen fic was requested so expect that soon!!

Cats are territorial creatures. It takes a while for a cat to get used to a new pet in the house. Give it time. You should expect some aggression. Well, that's what Luther said anyways after Nyen scoffed and completely ignored you when you were introduced as Luther’s new catwoman pet.

It's not like you did anything to him, actually trying to be nice in the beginning. It didn't matter how many times you wished him good morning or small talked. He’d still shove past you, saying the same thing,

“Don’t care. Die.”

Admittedly, It hurt your feelings at first. Nobody else had a problem with you. Luther’s other catman, Nyon, actually got along with you quite well. He already shared his “territory” so were you really intruding that much?

Or maybe it was because Luther spoiled you at first, buying you a cute dark blue skirt and dark top that dawned the word “cookie” (He chose it—of course.) along with your cat-hat that sported a floppy cat ear. However, it's been weeks since that. You’re sure whatever “new pet” jealousy he had would've died down by now.

It was concluded that after all that trying, at the end of the day, you aren't an ass-kisser. He wanted to be an asshole with you? You can be one back.

So you stopped being polite. You acted like he wasn't there, leaving the room instead of sticking it out whenever you two just happened to be alone. Simply rolling your eyes whenever he throws a stupid comment towards you.

Sure, it was more tame than him literally shoving you and telling you he wanted you dead but it was clear that this got him livid. He wasn't worth trying to get along with, he wasn't worth your effort.

Finally, after several more weeks of pettiness and frustration, he confronted you once you actually talked back to him after a snarky remark on a bad day. Cornering you in a lonesome room in the confusing house.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He stood tall in front of you, eyeing with a strong glare.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes like you always did, exasperated at his nerve to even ask you that, “My problem? You think I have a problem?” A chort leaves your lips, “If there's anyone with a problem—it's you.” With crossed arms, you return the glare. “Leave me alone now, asshat.” Heels turn to leave, not wanting to hear any more from him. However, you don't get a chance to even step a foot before Nyen harshly SLAMS you into the nearby wall.

“What—what the fuck!” The breath is taken out of your lungs, leaving you to slide down onto the floor in order to collect yourself in that split second. Nyen looms, not bothering to get on your level to speak to you, “Watch who you're talking to, I'll gut you right now.”

You're shaking, pain from the impact still vibrating throughout your body. Still, you futility keep yourself together and sharpen your gaze back at him. “Even if you wanted to—you can't. Luther likes me, and you're too much of an boot-licker to do anything—”

A swift kick meets your ribs causing you to hunch over in more pain. Nyen then crouches, grabbing a tuft of hair to force you to look at him. “Don't forget who’s higher on the hierarchy poster. You aren't worth anything besides sauntering around in a small skirt and cleaning after us like a maid.”

He lets go harshly, shoving your head in the process before getting up. Still feeling the burn in your chest, you begin to fester with anger. He can't just treat you like this. Just as he begins to walk away, you muster strength to get up and tackle him.

“Huh—”

You straddle him while he tries to kick you off but you stay firmly put. Sharp nails scratch at his face, causing shallow lines of blood to pool. You're cursing at him furiously, hitting and scratching continuously. Nyen hisses— “You bitch!”

Just as fast as you had him down, he quickly shoves you off of him and topples you. You both trash against each other, now he's able to return some painful hits. After basically rolling around on the floor, he's able to overpower you once he BONKS your head against the carpeted ground.

Dizzy and hurt, you feel him keep you down with his body weight, crushing your legs and causing you to hiss in over growing ache. “Get off of me!” With hoarse breath, you attempt to flail around and scream but Nyen doesn't relent.

Instead, he laughs maniacally as he shifts more of his weight and smacks your face. “Oh, no. I think you need to be reminded where the fuck you stand here.” He huffs and lifts the hem of your skirt, showing your underwear. Followed by flipping your shirt up above your bra, exposing yourself to him.

You see a malicious grin spread across his rough, shaven face. You should smack yourself for not realizing the hardness you felt while you both tackled was something else. Well, if he wasn't smacking you around already.

His black, dagger-like nails trail your exposed skin, not scared to dig down and cause you to yelp—only to swipe across your thighs and do it again. Nyen then moves his hand beneath your underwear, rubbing his fingers against your heat. You push back a gasp, gritting your teeth and desperately trying to shut your pinned legs.

He doesn't wait to stick a pair of fingers deep into you, staring intensely at your stressed reaction. “C’mon, don't got anything to say now?” You clench, you don't want to give him that satisfaction of your reactions. You seethe, because it feels good.

You try to keep it together when his fingers move in and out of you, but you can't ignore it when his thumb makes its way to rub your clit. He's harsh and fast, nails scratch your insides ever so slightly, causing you to clamp up around him. You can't let go of the feeling of his thumb circling your sensitive clit, a moan escapes you.

“You like that, slut?” Nyen speeds up and relishes on your hushed whines, cursing at him to just stop. He sees how your back arches slightly, and how your pretty tits are starting to spill from your bra. It's a nice sight, he likes how you were at each other's throat a few minutes ago, now he has you squirming around from a little fingering. You really are a slut.

Before you can reach your peak, Nyen pulls away. You breathe heavily, a pounding heartbeat reverberates in your ears. Once again, he towers over your hurt figure with furrowed brows before he snaps at you, “Get on your knees.”

He stares at you intensely, and though his dark pupils stay stoic on your hunched over body, you clearly spot the pure anger in his eyes towards you. It says so much. You knew Nyen didn't like you, but you really are starting to think he hates you. This is beyond jealousy or distain. He just wants you to suffer because you are below him.

It seems he's sick of waiting for you to act, he scoffs before wrapping your hair around his strong hand, yanking you into a kneeling position. “You really don't listen.” SMACK.

Overwhelmed tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the impact. Nyen still grips your hair, forcing your face against the dark denim of his pants. His clothed hardness pokes at your cheek, tears staining his crotch. “Take it out, whore. Don't make me do it.” You scowl, still feeling his claws digging into your scalp.

With shaky hands, you pull down his fly and fish out his hard length. Veins trail along the side of it and his base flushes red against your hands, big and intimidating. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Put that dirty mouth of yours to use.” Nyen scorns, noticing your flaring eyes, hesitating. “Bite me. I dare you, slut.” With a furrowed face, you take his pulsing dick and gently place it in your mouth. Your tongue awkwardly sliding over his engorged tip.

Nyen narrows his eyes at you, they're kitten licks, too shaky and soft to feel substantial. He observes the concept spread on your face, so uncomfortable and pathetic. It didn't matter that you were giving a sad excuse of a blowjob. He could get off on the fat tears that pooled down your face and the pure messiness of you.

Your hair and clothes are so disheveled it looks as if you just walked through the forest. You're bruising ever so slightly red on the side of your forehead, hits adorn your body, and he could chuckle at the matching scratches that sweep across both your faces. He thinks about how you would've looked even better if he had his knife with him.

Twisting the hair he’s holding behind your head, he waits once you take his tip fully in your mouth and without warning—he snaps his hips up and pushes his cock down your throat.

You gag harshly as Nyen lets out a long groan, forcing your mouth to fully take him. Still, he never stops looking at you through half lidded eyes, grinning at how you struggle to even breathe now.

He doesn't waste time to start thrusting roughly into your mouth, clutching onto the back of your head to fully abuse your throat. You try to gasp in between thrusts but it's impossible. He’s blocking your airways. You continue to let out strangled noises, digging your nails into the denim of his jeans to let him know to give you some type of mercy.

Nyen doesn't listen—he continues to feverishly fuck your face for a grueling however long. Long enough for you to start to feel dizzy and see dots collect in your vision. For a second, you truly panic that he’s going to suffocate you with his dick.

He only pulls back when he visibly sees you start to turn blue and feel the sharpness on his thigh weaken. You gasp for air like a fish out of water, aching lungs finally filling with much needed oxygen before Nyen greedily forces his way into you again.

He’s enjoying how your continued strained whines and gags vibrate around his dick. He won't admit it… but shit, you feel so addictive. Nyen wants to just melt into you.

He genuinely has to keep reminding himself to not let you die by pulling out of your mouth every so often. Taking some joy in how you scramble for air before he inevitably slams back into your poor throat.

Large hands grip at the sides of your head now, hip movements become more and more sloppy. He’s grunting louder, the sensation of twitching in your mouth becoming more evident of how close he is now. “Fuck—this really is all you’re good for, huh? You're going to swallow all my cum like the useless slut you are.”

With a final snap from his hips, Nyen forces your head all the way down, nuzzling your nose into his crotch before he spurts salty cum deep down your esophagus. He doesn't give you any leniency, purposely making you choke as he empties into you. “All of it, whore.”

Finally, once he's satisfied that you’ve tasted enough of him, he harshly pulls out his pulsating cock. Air feels like a commodity now, you almost feel as if he's going to shove his dick inside your mouth again in a few seconds. He doesn't though, instead he removes his hand from your hair and grabs his flushed length.

Your vision is blurry and your knees are weak, barely able to focus. Still, you manage to see the smug look spread across his face. Suddenly, you feel a warm, quick smack on the side of your cheek. You blink and realize he’s dick slapping you. What fucking nerve.

Still aching, you don't bother to fight back or say something like you should. Everything truly hurts. Instead, you allow yourself to loll back and cover yourself as Nyen zips himself back into his pants.

It's quiet. Nyen stands by and over you as you sit on the carpet, not sure what to do. Tears would be flowing if you had any left to cry. Both your eyes finally meet, and you can properly see the red scratches you left on his face. Nyen finally spits, “Get up. You look pathetic.” He then opens the door and leaves you to wallow.

It's like another slap to your face.

#nyen catman #nyen ranfren #nyen x reader #x reader #tw noncon #tw pain #tw breath play #dark content #dark blog

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aesthetic-bbyg · 10 months

Note

hey, can i request a tom x puerto rican female reader? Kinda similar to the chola one but it's in new york instead of la🤭omgggg. It can be any era idm sjensjsj

AY, BENDITO ~ TOM K.

Tom Kaulitz x reader

In which a determined Tom won’t stop till you accept his offer to take you out.

Nattie speaks: Yayayaya!! Im excited to write this bc I literally love Puerto Ricans sm like y’all are real ones ong🙏. Keep the request coming in bc I def wanna start writing more on here!

YOU NEARLY GROANED AS you saw the boy approach, your friend, Daniela, giggled from beside you just watching in amusement. Nearly everyday, Tom Kaulitz managed to find you and ask you the same question.

“You free tonight?” His German accent so alluring yet you knew you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. Yes, you will admit that Tom was a very attractive boy, you liked him a lot, but you also knew the type of person he was. It seemed as though every girl you talked to had at least one interaction with the Kaulitz boy that ended in sex. “Come on, just one date and it’ll be worth it.”

You glared, turning back to the line and waiting for your lime flavored piragua, choosing to ignore him. You weren’t sure why he decided that picking you as the main victim of his pestering was good idea but each day it annoyed you more. There we’re even some where you nearly gave in and excepted his offer but ultimately walked away before the words could leave your mouth. Was the piragua guy purposely taking long to shave the ice or was it just you? The mix between the heat of New York and Tom’s blabbing in your ear made the tone feel slow.

“Enough!” You snapped, turning to face the boy who was listing off reasons as to why taking you to Señor Guzman’s pizza place would be the perfect first date for the two of you. “I already told you that I’m not interested in going out with you.”

You could hear your friend snickering beside you, “Ay bendito.” She was just observing and sipping the cool cherry flavored syrup from her cup. (Poor boy)

Tom only smirked, adjusting his hat and backing away with his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I hear you, I will come back tomorrow.”

You sighed heavily as he walked away, “Don’t come back at all!” You yelled, but he didn’t turn around or do anything to acknowledge your words, based on his past actions you knew he would be back.

“Aquí está.” The tan man gave you the piragua in a small plastic cup, the shaved ice soaked in a lime-flavored syrup. Your demeanor immediately changed, a frustrated scowl turning into a soft grin with just one sip. You dig through your shorts, handing some bills before walking off. (Here you go)

“At this point, it’d be better to accept his date then reject it, Amiga.” Daniela spoke up, giving you a knowing look as she shoved some of the ice in her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue.

“No quiero, Dani, to give him the satisfaction of taking out another girl would be like hell to me.” You argued back, “He just doesn’t take a hint, and everyday he comes and bothers me about something.” (I don’t want to)

“If you really about it.” Daniela began making you roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that he really likes you and isn’t just playing around to get in your pants.”

You turned to her with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, it Tom fucking Kaulitz, of course he’s gon’ something involving.”

“When’s the last time you heard of him hooking up with someone?” Daniela asked, watching a a you shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly, and don’t you think that it’s strange how Tom is constantly flirting with you, only you.”

“I think it’s very strange, and annoying, ya me tiene esta los cielos, Dani.” You huffed, stopping as you arrived in front of her apartment building. (he has me up to the sky)

“Just take a moment and think, he totally got a thing for you because he’s putting in actual effort, not just shooting out some lame pick up lines.” Your friend tossed her cup into a nearby garbage bin before climbing up the steps. “He likes you, and I know you like him.”

You processed her words as you made it back to your own home, the refreshing snack cleared up your mind from its previous annoyed state. It made you frustrated, how could it be that a player was suddenly wanting to get with you of all people. For as long as you could remember, Tom would always flirt with you, it gave you a string of hope before he ended up in another girls room that same day. If the reason why you became so cold, more brutal with your rejections then before.

Walking into the house, your auntie and mom were in the kitchen, they could already sense the annoyance radiating off you. “Nena, que tú tiene?” Your auntie questioned, raising her thinly drawn eyebrow at you. “And don’t bullshit me.” (Girl, what is wrong?)

“María!” Your mother scolded towards her sister, “Don’t be using those groserías in front of my daughter.” You walked into the kitchen, jumping onto the counter as you watched your mother cut up some chicken. (Bad words)

“You know Tom K, el aleman te la esquina?” You began, getting the attention of both of the woman. (The German from the corner)

“El que tiene un hermano emo?” You auntie asked, placing a hand on her hip. (the one that has an emo brother?)

“Titi.” You warned as she threw her hands up in defense, “Bueno, pues, he’s been asking me out for the past five months.”

Your mother let out a dramatic gasp, stopping her motions and looking at you, “Cinco meses? Y qué carajo todavía haces aquí?” (five months? And what the hell are you still doing here?)

You groaned, throwing your head back, “No salir con el, mama, he’s a player, I’ve been sayin’ no each time.” Your tía grinned, clapping your hands. (I don’t want to go out with him)

“Mira, no mas!” She squealed, shaking your shoulders proudly, “Mi nenita ya tiene todo los hombres a sus pies.” (Well, well, my little girl already had all the men at her feet)

“Ay, no titi, no quiero salir con el, qué pasa si no mas me trata como otra.” You frowned, feeling your mom place a comforting hand on your shoulder. (I don’t want to go out with him, what happens if he just treats my like any other?)

“If he does anything.” She threateningly raised the knife that she was chopping up vegetables with. “You just come to me.”

“Mhmm.” You tía hummed in agreement, “Just gimme that address and you won’t have to worry about it.” Her serious face was then replaced by a bright smile. “Pero, you should totally go out with him.” (But)

“Dani was sayin something about how he might be interested since he’s been trying to hard, and just earlier when I was getting Piragua from Señor Rodríguez he came up to me.” The two woman listened intently, “He asked me out again and I said no, and when he said he’ll come back tomorrow I said he should never.”

The woman in front of you winced, “Ay, bendito.” They said in unison, making your frown even deeper. Maybe you were too harsh. (Poor boy)

“But since he’s so adamant on me, saying yes then he probably does have some interest. Well, that’s what Dani thinks.”

“Mira, nena.” Your tía placed her tan hands on your shoulders, “Back in my day, yo traía todos los hombres, tu mama era una virgencita.” (Listen, girl. I had all the men, your mom was a virgen)

“Ey!” Your mother slapped your tias arm angrily, making your scrunch your face up. “I was just waiting to find the right hombre.” (Man)

“Pero esperaste unos mil años.” The woman turned back to you, “As I was sayin’, no matter how much a man tried to be all playa’ by sleeping around with women and shit, the thing that’s gonna touch his heart is when a woman cares. So the next time he comes up to you and ask you out, you say yes when you go on your first date, show him that you’re interested.” (But you waited some thousand years)

You sighed heavily, “I’m nervous.”

“Why? Because you’ve been crushing on him since you were a kid?” Your mother questioned, tossing all the ingredients she’d been cutting up into a boiling pot of water. You eyes widened, mouth opening to say something before shutting itself up. “No crees que no te visto, te gusta, and I know it.” (Don’t think I haven’t seen you, you like him)

You hop of the counter and head into your room, you pick up the small phone that was sitting on your bed, clicking in Daniela’s phone number. In just a few rings the girl picked up with her usual chirpy voice. “Wassup, Amiga?”

“Dani, I’m gonna say yes the next time Tom asks me out.” You spit out quickly, not wasting a second to pause in between words. It was nearly inaudible but Dani still registered every syllable instantly.

“No way!” She squealed, “No me chingas amiga!” (Don’t fuck with me, bestie!)

“I’m bein’ for real.” You smiled slightly at her excitement, fiddling with the gold necklace nervously. “The next time he comes up to me, I’ll say yes.”

“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” You asked anxiously, eyes looking around to see if he’d magically pop up. The day had nearly reached an end, the sun beginning to lower itself into the horizon while you and Dani had walked around the area multiples times. By this time, Tom would’ve already walked up to you, gripping his baggy pants, a shit eating grin on his face, German-laced accent speaking the same words that you usually rejected, it almost became a routine.

But today you hadn’t seen him, it begun to make you nervous and ask the sun disappeared and the street lights flickered on, you sighed sadly. Never did you think you’d be so sad about not being pestered by Tom, in fact, you wished for a day like this. Now that you have it, you realize how boring the day has been, not hearing him or his corny pickup lines made it feel like a puzzle piece was missing.

“It’s okay.” Daniela rubbed a soothing hand up and down your back, “Maybe tomorrow, he could be busy with his band.”

“But he said he’d be back.” You frowned deeply, shoulders slumping, feet dragging on the pavement as you walked back home. You did the usual, dropped of Daniela first, her right hug lingering longer then usual before you walked the next few blocks to your own home. Just as you stepped on the steps that lead up to your front door a repetitive shuffle caught your attention.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Tom held flowers in one hand, the other one timidly waving at you. You’d never that you’d be so happy to see him, a smile would’ve taken over your features but you held back. Keeping a straight face as he held out the roses. “I got these..for you.”

Your eyes widened, taking the flowers and blushing. “Thank you, how’d you know these were my favorite?”

“You told me.” He smiled softly, it made your heart flutter and stomach twist into knots. “And, uh..I wanted to ask you, again, if you’d wanna go out with me?” He fiddled with the bands around his wrist, expecting the usual words of no and a slammed door in his face, but you have a warm smile instead.

“Yeah, I’m free on Friday.” You tried to hold the eye contact but his eyes practically hypnotized you, you stared down the roses, a shy smile on your lips. “I’m sorry for being mean on the past times.”

Tom chuckled, demeanor shifting from an laid back player to a timid lover boy who was stupidly excited that his crush finally said yes. “It’s okay gorgeous.”

An awkward beat of silence engulfed the air before you leaned forward, pecking his cheek and watching as the red blush creeped up onto his face. “I’ll see you Friday then.” You mumbled, hand gripping the door handle and pushing it open. You looked towards the boy one last time, “Bye Tom.”

“Bye, gorgeous.”

I hate using y/n if y’all couldn’t alr tell by the amount of pet-names I have in all my fics. 😭 I tried my best to capture the Puerto Rican culture but as someone who isn’t really familiar, I don’t really know if I did all that good. Apologies if there was some errors in some areas!! either way I enjoyed writing this fic and loved the idea!! Ik it got corny at the end but pls ignore that.

hehehe

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel imagine #2000s #puerto rican #puerto Rican reader #Tom Kaulitz x reader #Latina #boricua #tom kaulitz x you #tom Kaulitz imagine #fanfic #fluff #tom Kaulitz fic

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ridhearts · 2 years

Text

my love’s got a bad rap {misc.}

somebody’s got a bad reputation...but are they really as bad as they seem?

characters: cater + deuce + floyd + vil + rook + idia + malleus + sebek

reader: gender neutral!

cw: none!

masterlists ⇿ request

• • • • • • • Cater

"What is he doing? Is he doing another dance trend?"

"Oh my goodness, and did you hear all the abbreviations he was using in Crewel's class? Half the time I don't even know what he's saying."

"Honestly, I doubt his mind is ever on anything but Magicam likes. He's so shallow, my feet wouldn't get wet if I stepped in him."

Cater says it doesn’t bother him, and he detests wasting time on convincing you that it’s true. He’s a master at switching the subject at hand, swapping topics almost as easily as he does his many masks. No need to sweat the small details, right, Prefect? Plenty of people love him, if his Magicam follow count has anything to say about that! Having haters comes with having fans, so why let them rain on the parade? There’s no such thing as bad publicity! Now, if you’re done bringing down his vibe, he’s got a few cute photo-op ideas that he’d love to tell you about…

But Cater isn’t as convincing as he likes to think he is. The truth is, it does kind of bother him that people think he’s so shallow. One thing Cater has been deprived of is a true, genuine relationship he can call entirely his own. But the people he considers closest to him don’t always hold him in the same regard, or they’ve grown attached to a fabricated version of himself. Now people think there’s nothing within him worth getting to know? The world loves reminding him of what he can’t have, doesn’t it? He holds people at an arm’s length for a reason, which makes it easier to tell himself that they think these things about his persona, not him. That’s about as successful as you’d think it is, which is to say, not at all.

Deep down, Cater is a lot of fun. He notices little details about the people he cares about, and he wants to spend time with people he thinks truly get him. It hurts to be reminded that there’s a rift between him and them, maybe one that he cracked into the earth himself. But you’re still sitting with him on the other side, and when he hooks one leg over yours and gives you a cheeky grin you lean into him instead of away. It’s not going to change a lot of his behavior, and it won’t change the way people see him. But it’s reciprocation, and it’s enough.

• • • • • • • Deuce

"Did you hear about the big fight by the botanical gardens?"

"Yeah, I did. Isn’t that one Heartslabyul kid getting into a lot of fights?"

"I heard he used to be a delinquent. Guess he never grew out of it."

Deuce doesn’t really mind, at first. If anything, he’s frustrated that people are worried over gossip that’s none of their business, then he worries how many people know about his old delinquent days. He’s positive you didn’t tell anyone, and he’s pretty certain Ace hasn’t, either - but maybe it’s a meaningless rumor that happened to be correct. He did get into a lot of fights, even despite his best efforts to stay calm and collected.

The worst part of it isn’t that his reputation follows him - he was prepared for that, to a degree. Deuce worries that they might be right. While not the most self-conscious person out there, Deuce was most certainly out of his depth in trying to be a model honor student. His foundation was shaky, and on bad days he worried that maybe his efforts were for nothing, and he’d always be a rowdy delinquent that was too quick to anger over things he didn’t understand.

But you don’t seem so convinced. Sure, when you noticed his bloody knuckles you huff in exasperation, but you’ve started carrying around a mini first aid kit just for him. Deuce insists he can dress his wounds on his own, but he rather likes how tenderly you hold his hand when you turn him down. It’s almost like he’s somebody fragile, who would break if the wind blew wrong and doesn’t throw punches without caution. Sometimes, if you’re feeling particularly fond, you bring his hand up to your lips before he can protest and call him your sweet boy. If nothing else, that gets him motivated. He might not feel as sweet as you say he is, but he’s fervently dedicated to being someone you still want to say it to!

• • • • • • • Floyd

"Surely one of the twins would know what to do, but no way they're worth approaching!"

"Our best bet is asking Jade. He's the more reasonable one, I think."

"Yeah, for sure. Even if we wanted to ask Floyd, he wouldn't be able to get himself to do anything."

Floyd cares more about the incessant noise these rumors make way more than he cares about what they're actually saying. Azul and Jade have both mentioned that it might be worth toying with the expectation people have of him, but that would require planning, which would make everything predictable and boring. It's no secret that Floyd hates being bored more than anything. He lets other people do what they want because he does what he wants, and if he wants people to stop talking, he's very persuasive when he's squeezing somebody.

You both know that saying anything bad about the Leech twins is a bad idea, and that anything that's said about them makes its way to their ears eventually. If a rumor really bothered one of them, it'd be 'taken care of’ by dinner time. But Floyd has only ever paused to consider the thoughts of a few people in his life, and even then he still pushes buttons if it's the right opportunity for the most fun. So if you insist on yapping like an angry Chihuahua on his behalf, go ahead! Floyd doesn't mind the extra reminder that Shrimpy likes him the best!

It is rather amusing, though, to watch you get flustered or upset whenever you hear what people are saying about him. Whether you just scoff and walk away or make a show about correcting them, it lifts Floyd's spirits to know you've got a whole list of things in your mind that you like about him. He's got one for you, too, Shrimpy! Item number one is that you're just soooo squishy…

• • • • • • • Vil

“Ugh, I have just about had it with him! If I have to listen to another lecture about beauty standards I’m just going to start biting people.”

“He’s got a lot to say for somebody that’s probably only famous because of daddy’s money anyway.”

"Right? Like, who died and made him queen?”

Vil hated baseless, idle gossip with a passion. It wasn’t because he couldn’t take it - years in the spotlight have hardened him from the harsh words of ill-intentioned critics, and sometimes he simply did not actually care - but he did hate how such ugly words were only spoken because some little potatoes didn’t feel like doing the work they needed to. They’d see the results if they just listened to his advice. But instead they insist on trying to tarnish his reputation and succeeding in tarnishing their own with the mud they flung so carelessly. It was quite a headache.

He does, however, worry about such rumors reaching you. Vil trusts you and believes you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, but he does not like that he can’t simply plug your ears and direct you away from the lies he knows are out there. He cannot act preemptively and tell you they’re false, for he isn’t sure just what you know and doesn’t want to bring them to your attention when the both of you can leave the rumors to rot as they should. Vil is normally well-respected and admired, but he knows that he can come across as harsh or haughty, and sometimes tabloids just need content. He cannot control what you hear about him, and he is still learning to relax when life insists on taking the reins from him.

Of course, he is an excellent judge of character and would never get along with someone who so blindly trusted celebrity gossip. It brings him great joy to see you smirk at the exaggerated headlines and laugh at how preposterous they are. He also values the way you carefully bring up any details they may have a point about. You have gained his trust, and he relishes in seeing that he has gained yours. Few people in this world have had the privilege of seeing the real Vil behind the glitz and glamor, and yet he can think of nobody more deserving of such a gift than you.

• • • • • • • Rook

"He's such a creep! I hate even being in the same room as he is."

"And if you're unlucky enough to get stuck in a conversation with him, isn't he kind of…..weirdly mean half the time?"

"There's no way this isn't some sadistic warm up for his future career in serial killing, or something."

Rook is another one who doesn’t quite care exactly what is said about him. He knows the reputation he holds, and he doesn’t do much to counteract the image. As long as the Pomefiore dorm is not caught in the crossfire, he simply works with the way people see him. They get so skittish when he approaches, and yet they make no effort to hide their tracks! The beastmen on campus get so nervous around him, ears angled towards him and tails twitching in his hands wonderfully! People rarely show hostility so openly - perhaps he is blessed to see such a hidden side of his classmates in full view!

Although, he must admit, unrequited love stories get a bit old after they’ve been told time and time again. His heart remained unbruised but his mind grew restless, yearning for a different tale to catch his attention. School life doesn’t exactly allow for a lot of new acquaintances to be made once the entrance ceremonies have come to a close. Perhaps that is why he values the interactions he has with his Trickster so much; with your original skepticism reaching to every student and not just him, and your stubborn tendency to figure things out for yourself (and forgive great transgressions, if his peers who have Overblotted can be used as evidence), you are one of very few relationships that has grown organically with him.

It revitalizes him, to give such enthusiasm out and have it returned. You, with all your cunning and tenacity, have begun to slowly figure him out, unwinding the threads he has allowed to fray and pursuing him still. All his other quarries have allowed his arrow to pierce them, killing any chance at a benevolent relationship between them, yet you manage to evade him every time. Truly, you have been the most fascinating chase he has ever embarked upon! Should his arrow ever strike you, he hopes it pierces your heart as you have done to him, rather than chase you away to never return.

• • • • • • • Idia

"Uhhhh…is Idia finally out of his cave today?"

"I think there's a practical in Crewel's class. In person. Can't miss it."

"No wonder the mood is so down today…"

Idia knows what people think about him, and he’s convinced himself they’re saying more than he can hear. He truly is his own worst enemy, having already called himself what others have and so much worse. Idia hates how it feels like he’s stuck in his head and everybody else’s too, caught in an echo chamber of self loathing - but he double hates letting people know about it. The last thing he wants is people thinking he’s a paranoid weirdo, and the second to last thing he wants is more attention for him to second guess.

There are few instances where he can feel what he imagines normal must feel like - online, for one, where he can hide behind a custom avi and let his skills speak for themselves. When there’s a job that must absolutely be done and he is (regrettably) put in charge, he can point out the direction to the end just fine. Everybody can get behind finishing their work early, right? Just like everybody wants to finish the final boss battle and get those sweet, sweet rewards. Idia knows he’s capable and he thinks he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve that are worth hearing about - convincing other people takes more energy and effort than he’s willing to give for what seems like a hopeless, pointless endeavor.

…which is why it’s so strange that you’ve stuck around, and you’ve stuck so close. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, he does!! It’s just…well, you’re the super strong and determined prefect who’s saved the school and Crowley’s skin several times over. He’s the weird shut-in…and that’s one of the nicer titles he’s earned! Idia doesn’t dare voice his curiosities, lest it be enough to snap you out of whatever’s taken over you and send you packing once you realize he might be as bad as people say. All the same, it feels really good when you comment on his achievements and praise his skills, even for the small stuff like placing high in his mobile gacha game events. Before, the thought of you knowing what people think about him used to embarrass him to no end - but now he wishes you have, just so he can be reassured that you won’t suddenly come to your senses and push him away. He’s beyond happy that he let you in, but the leap of faith he took was so large…should you leave, it might prove difficult to make his way back over.

• • • • • • • Malleus

"Gyah-! Malleus is coming this way!”

“Huh?!? Why? Did he look mad?”

“You think I stayed around to check? Quick, let’s hide in one of the conference rooms - who cares if people are inside, they’ll understand!”

Malleus is quite aware of his rather foreboding presence. It’s not like anybody is trying to keep quiet, but even so, an entire school of arrogant, risk-taking mages-to-be avoids him, so clearly something is scaring them off. He’s not very good at appearing more approachable (which he thinks is because his attempt at pleasant, polite smiles come across as “terrifying snarls from a creature on the brink of devouring somebody,” as Lilia once put it). It’s rather lonely.

Malleus isn’t subtle about this loneliness, either. Ask Lilia, and he’ll be happy to tell you about the many times he’s found Malleus moping, or had to fight through the rain and narrowly avoid being electrocuted by his angry lightning over another forgotten invitation. Lilia finds it endearing, but Malleus is nothing short of chagrined. Yet his bemoaning does nothing when nobody dares hover around him to listen.

For someone that doesn’t want to be taken so seriously, he makes even the smallest of things seem like life-or-death occurrences. Once you spared him a moment for casual conversation - my, has there ever been anything as wonderfully mundane as that? - Malleus decides that You Are The One. He isn’t even sure what that means himself, but he does know that he might implode from the isolation if you were to decide to stop talking to him all together. (“First love,” Lilia swoons in the background, “Always so dramatic.”) It only took a kind word to make yourself one of the most important people in a future king’s life, and every word only makes things sweeter. Malleus has never been so thankful that his reputation, for once, didn’t precede him.

• • • • • • • Sebek

"Dear Seven, I’ve got the most massive headache…and here he comes around the corner.”

“What does he even yell about? I’ve learned to tune him out but I can’t imagine it’s anything too special if it comes from him.”

“Talking to him isn’t worth the trouble. Let’s just use the ground floor hallway and avoid him completely.”

It’s hard to say if Sebek knows what other people think of him. On one hand, he must not be aware, because he never tones his voice down and always looks surprised when somebody finally snaps and tells him to can it. On the other hand, Sebek is very firm in his beliefs, so he’d be unlikely to back down because a few pesky classmates of his can’t handle a few shouts. Does he not know, or does he not care? It’s a toss-up, and there hasn’t been anybody curious enough to have a talk about it with him.

The most he ever shows is annoyance. How utterly impolite of you to leave while he was in the middle of a sentence! Were you not listening yesterday when he explained the expectation Professor Crewel had for this afternoon’s alchemy lesson?! WHAT DISGRACE DO YOU INTEND TO LAY ON THE YOUNG MASTER’S NAME WITH THAT BEHAVIOR?!?!?! And yet, he sees his peers laughing and huddling in groups, sees them smiling in response to what one of them said, and part of him feels…weird. Like these humans are purposely trying to tear his pride apart, brick by brick.

At first, you’re certain everybody was right and Sebek hates you on the basis of being a human. He’s definitely as loud as everybody makes him out to be, and it’s difficult to hear his true opinion when his words so often fall to praises for Malleus. You suggest he stick to what he thinks, and Sebek acts as if you’ve slapped Malleus in front of him. The relationship takes time. But, eventually, Sebek starts turning his praises to you, whether it’s because you got the top score on a test or he’s impressed with how well you can command the rowdy Grim. He also starts telling you more about himself, almost like he’s expecting you to praise him now. (You do, of course, but it’s sweet how he does it.) Sebek doesn’t really change - perhaps his reputation is more justified than others - but sometimes, if you can catch him feeling contemplative, he’ll spare a moment to be grateful that you’re stubborn enough to seek the truth. (What a display of integrity! Perhaps it isn’t such a disgrace to invite you to Diasomnia one day and dine at the same table as the young master himself!!)

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rwby-imagines-and-headcanons · 10 months

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im not sure if this is an okay request but family headcanons with rwby? like what kind of mother they are and how they treat their children and partner :)

Of course this is okay, it's really cute! I know I get a lot of NSFW requests, but wholesome ones are always welcome and highly appreciated!

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Team RWBY as Moms

Ruby Rose

Ruby is so sweet as a mom, she absolutely adores her family. No matter how many kids you have or their gender, she is gonna accept them with open arms

Being one of the top Huntresses means she is often out of the house in the mornings. But she always makes sure to come back right on time and call her familly if otherwise

Loves showing off Cresent Rose to the kids, and when they get old enough she lets them hold and try it out. If they want to be hunters/huntresses she is the first person to help them figure out a weapon

Does races with her kids, but always cheats and uses her semblance

Is decent at cooking, but really specializes in baking. Her cookies are to DIE for, your kids always try to sneak them at night (secretly you do too, don't tell Ruby)

Auntie Yang and her partner are always coming over, it's great! Everyone gets to catch up and the kids get to play, it's always a great time

Ruby always talks about how awesome Grandpa Qrow is, so clearly your kids look up to him. You often have to debunk a lot of the outlandish statements but it's cute nonetheless. Whenever he comes by it's always a big deal

Grandpa Tai tries so hard to be cool, it's often a joke in your household. He once tried to teach the kids to skateboard and fell flat on his face, giving himself a nosebleed

It's so sweet though! The kids always look forward to seeing him for a good laugh (plus he gives great hugs)

Ruby loves to barrage you guys with kisses

Weiss Schnee

Weiss never had a good childhood, fault being on both her parents. When she and her partner decided to have children, she swore to never make the same mistakes her parents did. She refuses to continue the cycle of abuse

Winter is always welcome to your house and always makes it to family events. She's still a bit cold but actually smiles when around you guys. Willow stays away a bit since she's still dealing with stuff, but makes an effort to occasionally visit. Jacques banned from even seeing any of you, and if he ever tries Weiss will threaten him with a restraining order

She always makes sure to go to all her kids events, no matter how disinterested she may be in the type of event. The excited look on their faces make it all worth it. Oh, and she's totally the mom to wave at her kids while they perform on stage

Can sometimes be strict when it comes to rules she has instated. No staying up too late, no staying out past curfew, stuff like that. She wants her kids safe!

Anytime she snaps at her kids or partner in frustration she immedietely stops and apologizes

Her dad is quite adamant about your kids having the Schnee Glyth semblance, but Weiss isn't worried about it. No matter what they have she isn't gonna love them any less

Has the BEST Birthday parties on the block, every kid wants to come! Tables lined with delicious food, tons of bounce houses, fun games, all the digs! Weiss also loves to use her summons to entertain the kids (They especially love the giant knight)

When the kids are at sleepovers and leave you two alone, you guys like to have mini date nights where you sip wine and talk. Weiss loves hearing about your day

Once the kids are put to bed she basically collapses on the couch with you and just lays there for a while in your arms

Blake Belladonna

Probably the most motherly of all of them. She had a great relationship with her parents and keeps a lot of her family traditions

Grandpa Ghira and Grandma Kali are very present. Ever since their grandkids were babies they were always very involved. Kali was most obvious about it, and likes to spoil her grandkids whenever possible. Ghira tries to be more aloof and calm about it, but you and Blake once caught him conked out on the couch with your sleeping kids in his arms

Very gentle with her kids and soft spoken. But when she gets angry you can hear the sharpness in her voice (that instantly shuts her family up)

If your kids runs away from you guys in public, Blake uses her weapon to yoink them and reel them back in

Uses her clones when they play games, she always wins at tag

Ever since they were babies, Blake likes to read books to her kids at bedtime. She reads a mixture of children's books and classic literature. It doesn't really matter what she reads, the soft sound of voice is the perfect lullaby

Teaches her children about Faunus issues and history very early on in life. It's important for them to know their history and culture

Always is ready with her phone to take photos and videos. She wants to capture all key moments your family experiences! Once a year she likes to have the family sit down and go through the collection

Sun likes to come by randomly and surprise you guys. Sometimes you'll be watching TV and hear a knock at your window. Blake reprimands him lightly, but it always ends up being a good time

Yang Xiao Long

Yang is the Cool Mom™️

She lets her kids dye their hair, get piercings, and tattoos. Of course the tattoos only when they get to an appropriate age, but it's not discouraged

Whenever the kids want piggyback rides she is happy to provide. If you have more than one kid she tries to carry them all at once

All the kids in the area adore her and loves to call her Auntie Yang

Definitely adores rough housing and play wrestling. She loves to teach simple moves and have contests (whenever she lets them win she gets really dramatic)

If they want to become hunters/huntresses, Yang is HAPPY to spar and train them! And if you want to join it makes a great family bonding activity

Does her kids' hair every day. Even if it's just a quick brush she loves to make sure they look their best

You own a grill that she loves to use. She likes to barbecue on weekends! Most of the time is fine it's just uh... she likes thing on the burnt side. Often you'll have to specifically tell her to not overcook everyone's meal

Loves to flirt and kiss you in front of the kids. Their cries of anguish and cringe is like music to her ears

Auntie Ruby and her partner are frequent guests in your house, they visit all the time. Whether it's to go to dinner or mini golf or just chill inside. It's also great for you all to catch up and the kids to hang out

Yang is the Cool Mom, Ruby is the Cool Aunt, and Qrow is the Cool Grandpa! Everytime Qrow comes to visit your kids practically tackle him. He always tells the best stories and sneaks your kids snacks and money

Tai tries to be the Cool Grandpa but kinda fails. He's sprained his ankle many a times trying to impress. Although they laugh, your kids absolutely adore when he comes around

There is no mention of Raven in the house. Yang refuses to bring that drama into her family life, she hasn't even approached her in general. But Yang doesn't care, she has everything she needs

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#rwby #rwby imagines #rwby headcanons #rwby x reader #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

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chicken-fifi · 4 months

Text

BTS Reaction | Your Niece/Nephew Says His Name

Pairing: BTS Members x Reader

Requested by anon: Heyyyy!!!! Can you please write bts reaction when their crush's niece or nephew (19 months old) says their name? I have a niece who is the same age, and I managed to get her to say Suga!!! It was sooo cute🥰🥰

A/n: i'm too young and broke. i'm too young and broke. i'm too young and broke. i'm too young and broke....

Tunes: black clover :)

Jin:

Getting your niece to say Seokjin’s name was…an adventure to say the least

She would be all smiley and giggly as you both repeated his name over and over again

Under most circumstances she would say any word you said to you her without being asked to repeat it

Some of them were a bit funky and mispronounced

But it was the effort that made it worth it

Yet she would toy with him saying the first few syllables before saying a completely different word

That is until he appeared to give up completely moping in the kitchen as he attempted to get over his feelings by helping you make lunch

“Jinnie?”

You both heard it loud and clear as her little hand pat his pant leg

“Jinnie!”

Talk about cute

Suga:

Unlike Jin’s entry above

Your niece here is quite the stubborn girl

She will flat out say ‘no’ when you pose a word for her to say

It is her favorite word after all

But if Yoongi asks her to say something

She sings it

She screams it

Dear lord the things he can get her to say all because she like to see your boyfriend smile at you

So when he asks her to say his name

Just for the heck of really

She tries

She does

And it’s a rocky road before she finally says it

“Yoonnie?”

Close enough

J-Hope:

Your nephew is much like your niece in Jin’s entry

Where he constantly says anything and everything someone asks him to say

Especially if it’s Hoseok asking him to say something

So when he first poses his name to your nephew

He tries so hard to say it but he just can’t get the right syllable out

And he get sad and frustrated because he wants nothing more than to make your boyfriend proud of him

So Hoseok gives his nickname a shot

And sure enough

Your nephew begins spewing the nickname like a mantra

Not a second goes by where don’t hear his little voice with Hobi this and Hobi that

RM:

You niece lives to impress Namjoon with her intelligence and everything she’s done since the last time she saw him

“Look what I can do! Look! Look! Look!”

She wants his praise and compliments he gives her constantly when she does such endearing things

So she also takes it upon herself to say his name

She hears you constantly say his name when you’re talking about him and she engraves it into her memory

Practicing saying it on her own to surprise the two of you

And surprise you she does

She comes bounding into the living room when you both arrive at her home to pick her up to take her to the park and she’s practically screaming his name at the top of his lungs as she runs to you

“Namjoon!”

She quickly begins calling him Joonie though

Jimin:

Jimin makes your nephew laugh all the time

Being as clumsy as he is

Jimin is constantly eliciting a sharp call of his name from you as he trips on air

So it’s not surprise that one day when you’re out of the room

Having stepped out of the room to take care of something

Jimin is left watching him

Attempting to entertain him

During which he trips over his own two feet

Falling flat on his face

“Jimin!”

Your nephew calls out in the same tone you normally use when referring to him after his topples

He’s too stunned to speak as he stares at your nephew toppling over again as he tries to crawl towards his little figure

Your nephew “scolds” him one more time

Your nephew here knows Taehyung’s name and can say it well too

He just opts to say it very silently most of the time

Going unnoticed as he just taps against some part of Taehyung body for anything he needs

He’s just shy

He admires Taehyung so much

But he’s also struggling to come to terms with the fact that he also has to share his beloved aunt/uncle with another person

So he’s still a bit apprehensive during this time (pre-dinner reaction)

But he pushes it aside when he really needs his help with something

Unfortunately Taehyung is a bit too engrossed in a conversation with you to notice the little guy tapping him

So he tries calling out to him softly with not response

It’s only when he says it quite loudly and with such precision that he notices and is gobsmacked

Immediately bending to the will of the little boy

Even if you scold him for it

Jungkook:

Your niece practically hangs off of Jeongguk whenever he’s with you

She loves the man

Even more since she knows you love him too!

She’s a giggly mess as the two of you try to get her to say his name

In the beginning she calls him just about anything resembling a cute animal she’s familiar with

And he response to it

But eventually you try to teach her

And she picks up on it real quick

Getting familiar with each of the syllables on their own before putting them together

Only to drop the first one entirely when she sees him walk through the door

Shouting “Kookie!” with all her might

Safe to say it stuck

#kpop #kpop reactions #bts #bts masterlist #bts reactions #rm #jin #suga #j-hope #jimin #v #jungkook

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theflyindutchwoman · 2 months

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Hey! How are you holding up? Just finished the episode and I haven't really recovered. I am sad, I am frustrated, I don't really know what's happening? I thought they were mature and Tim is so dumb right now, I can't even.

And Lucy? I can't even start to imagine what she's going through. She has been so badass for the 5 seasons and this season she just gets fail after fail and loss after loss and doesn't even get a good job storyline.

So sorry I didn't reply sooner but I first wanted to take a little step back in order to fully digest the episode. As much as the waiting is killing me, I actually appreciate the hiatus for that. I imagine your feelings may have changed a bit as well since then… or that was the impression I got from our different conversations here and there. How are you feeling now? A bit better or still frustrated?

I'm going to start with Lucy. I was rewatching the beginning of season 5 and this is hitting even harder now. Not because of the pining era. But because the narrative was already showing her isolation back then. I couldn't quite put my finger on why her storyline in season 6 felt so familiar but now I get it. This is merely the continuation.

As we all noticed, the scene of Tim breaking up with her had a very similar vibe to the one at the end of 5.02. But think back of when she went to Nyla for advice about going to UC school, when she was trying to confide to Aaron who was too caught up in his own drama to hear her… or when she spent hours locked in a freezer because no one realised she was missing - besides Tim, that is. And then, there was the whole Rosalind thing where Lucy had to push through her own trauma to help Chris deal with his and help Bailey stay calm. But no one ever took the time to ask her how she was doing with all of this (on screen). They all had good reasons, by the way, this isn't me trying to paint them as the bad guys. But this still has an eerie similarity to what is happening right now. Only there has been no payoff for any of this. Yet. It didn't seem to go anywhere. Until now. Same with her career : she nailed UC Academy, something that was supposed to help her standout come promotion time… She helped the FBI on a raid, she was asked to be the acting Watch Commander, she was told that the whole station had her back… And yet, none of this paid off either. Yet. So this is a great opportunity to finally connect all the dots that have been dropped for the past two seasons and give Lucy the amazing arc she deserves. I sincerely hope this will be the case.

As for Tim… Look, the reason why I didn't want a breakup (besides the fact that I dislike this trope so much), is that I was afraid that it would cheapen the whole "worth the effort / worth the risk" speech. You can't say that and leave at the first difficulty without downplaying the whole story. So I'm glad that the writers were able to find a way to circumvent that issue by showing Tim completely unravelling. Because this isn't about him thinking Lucy is not worth the effort or the risk… This is about him thinking HE is not worthy of her. And that changes everything. For me, at least. I still get the frustration. I still wish this storyline would have been done with them sticking together and trying to work through it. But I can understand his perspective, why he thought this would be better for her. And I can see how that could make them stronger in the end. So, just like with Lucy, I hope Tim's arc will be treated properly and carefully. I need to see the payoff, the progress… I need to see them heal. Separately and then, together. It's always hard to see where a story is going when it is still unfolding… But for now, I choose to remain optimistic and hopeful. Does that help you even a tiny bit?

#thanks for the ask :) and again I apologise for not answering sooner!#ask & ye shall receive #the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford

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