#its weird. but i don't know how to fix it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

selineram3421 · 8 months

Note

can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)

*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!

Hissy Kitty

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠

Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.

Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.

He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.

"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.

"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.

"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.

"Husker!"

Shit.

He was pissed that he was too late.

"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."

"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.

You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"

Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.

"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.

After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.

How interesting..

"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"

"I'm-"

"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."

"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.

Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.

"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"

"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"

Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.

"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"

"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.

"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.

"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.

"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.

"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"

"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"

The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.

"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."

"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.

"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."

"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.

"Only for a few hours!", he replied.

You stayed longer than a few hours.

Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.

Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.

"So Husky~", Angel slid over.

"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.

"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"

"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.

"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.

"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"

You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.

"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.

"What.", your brother growled.

"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"

"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.

"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."

The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.

"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."

"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.

"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"

You were near Alastor most of the day.

Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.

"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.

All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.

"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."

"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."

Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.

"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.

"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.

The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.

"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.

"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.

The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."

"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.

"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.

The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.

Oh how entertaining~

I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾

4K notes · View notes

loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Text

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you.

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"

"I don't have time for this-"

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.

"What happened?" He strains.

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?"

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw

16K notes · View notes

esouliie · 8 months

Text

DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…

– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)

[word count: 3.4k]

Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.

Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…

Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.

Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.

This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.

The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.

As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.

“Hey, Wanda.”

She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.

"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"

“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”

Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”

You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.

Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…

“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”

You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.

“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”

Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.

Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.

"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.

"You’re so much more than him.”

You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.

Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.

“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her admission.

"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.

To keep stroking your hand,

To keep whispering in your ear.

To keep close to you.

“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.

But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.

Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.

“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”

…

A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.

Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.

“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”

With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.

Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.

“Let’s forget it happened.”

You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”

“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.

“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”

Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.

But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”

She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.

“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.

“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”

She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.

She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”

She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon being hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.

“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.

Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.

Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.

She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.

Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”

A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”

Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Wanda… please!”

“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”

You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”

“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”

You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.

“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…

But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.

This was your best friend’s mom.

Natasha didn’t deserve this.

“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”

“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”

Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.

“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.

“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”

Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”

Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.

The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.

“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”

A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.

“M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.

Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.

Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.

You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.

The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.

Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.

Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.

“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”

Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.

You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.

Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.

To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.

Because she didn’t care.

She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.

The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.

“Can you look at me, princess?”

Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.

She looks so beautiful.

Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…

Natasha.

Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.

You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.

“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”

Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.

“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”

A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.

Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.

Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.

“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”

You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.

Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.

Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.

A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.

Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.

Finally, she had you.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.

And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.

…

After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.

Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.

You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.

Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.

“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”

You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.

You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.

“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”

You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”

Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.

“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”

She guides you out of her neck to look at her.

“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.

“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.

It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”

You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.

“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.

“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.

Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.

“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”

Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.

“Keep saying you love me, baby.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.

“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.

“Come on. Be good for me.”

It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.

She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.

A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”

“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.

“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.

Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #: @florietas

3K notes · View notes

exculis · 2 years

Text

people will be so nice to me they will be so cool and will be like omgg we should be friends :) and I am like haha okayyy :) and then I don't know how to do that and we just drift apart because I don't know how/when to start conversations so I just go about my daily business and every now and then they will message me and I'll go oh! Exciting! And respond to them but eventually they stop messaging first and by the time I really realize it its been years and I have to wonder if they even want to hear from me anymore at that point. And even if they did what do I say. I don't magically have an idea of stuff to talk about just because its been a while.

#its just weird like.#I dunno.#is it because I'm so used to just chilling on my own that I don't have the drive to reach out first or is it the other way around #am I just not naturally driven to start convos and so ive gotten used to being solo?#I dunno. I wish I could figure out how to have thoughts but I can't #I just never feel compelled to start a conversation. not online anyway and idk why or how to fix it #sorry if you ever messaged me and I just don't message first ever #its not your fault or anything my brain just doesnt work right I guess lol #its not that I don't THINK about other people either bc a lot of the time I will think abt ppl I have met online #when I see a thing I know they're into or someone brings up something related to them in my head or whatever #but thats not like. a conversation.#'hi person I've spoken to only a few times. thought about you today. ok bye.'

0 notes

audisive · 6 months

Text

♪ SAD GIRL. pretty when you cry alternative

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: another bad day calls for another solution. simon knows best, after all.

tags: smut, mentions of crying, comfort, self-indulgent, dumbification ??, dirty talk, a sprinkle of breeding, unedited filth

You're not entirely sure how you got here.

You know why; you'd been stressing your precious head off for the whole week. These past few days seem to be worse than the past ones that had you crying your eyes out in Simon's arms. University has taken its toll on you, and your work is anything but helpful. You don't even have time to cry now! At some point, you barely even had time to spend with your beloved boyfriend, so he took matters into his own capable hands.

Still, you don't know how. You try to remember, but it's hard to think when Simon's even harder dick is stretching out your – in his words – pretty little cunt once more. It's no use trying to work your brain, he claims, not when your shoulders are slumped, your head is leaning on him, and he's rubbing his thick cock against the walls of your pussy just right.

Really, you tried to deal with your stress in a more appropriate way, but you knew it was futile. You admitted defeat when you felt his hands slip from your waist to your hips, when his lips found your neck, when his cold fingers played with your clit and when he'd eased you down on his cock with praises and whispers.

It's just not your fault that he knows the right buttons to push, and he seems to love turning your brain off. What's going on in that brain 'f yours, lovie? C'mon, 'nough of that. Leave it all t'me. If he had it his way, he'd have you drop out of that awful university you always complain about. Please let him provide for you.

"Y'don' even have t' do anything, baby," he grunts in your ear lowly, hot breath hitting your skin. So you don't. You pant against him like a pathetic thing, but you're so far gone in the pleasure that you just can't bring yourself to be a little shy about your state of mind, or rather, the lack of it.

"Such a good fuckin'–" he moans out loud when you clench around him a little too hard without warning, "girl. That's m'girl, tha's it."

You moan his name back, the only thing you can think of. Whining when his thrusts become rougher and harder, he coos, "I know, I know. Almost there, baby, I got'cha."

His pants aren't even all the way down. Shameless bastard! He opted to slide them down his muscular thighs to let the noticeable bulge slip out of its enclosure. His hands have long since shoved themselves under your clothes, not bothering to take them off either. It makes you feel icky, desperate, and utterly pathetic, but the way his cold skin freezes the surface of your bare hips while he moves you up and down on his leaky cock is enough to take your mind off of it.

You're a bit too loud for your own liking, and Simon's dirty talk isn't helping. He laces the lewd sounds of your bedroom with his own groans and grunts that your neighbors are sure to hear and complain about. And when he finds that spot of yours, he pounds you into the mattress like your lives depend on it. You'll just have to ignore the weird looks and glares they give you when you step out of your house.

Oh, but what can you do? You're at his mercy; all you can bring yourself to do is whine and moan for him, but don't worry, he'll take it as a reward for taking such good care of his pretty baby. He's hell-bent on finding ways to comfort you. If he can't fix you with sweet pecks and warm cuddles, he'll fix you up real good with sloppy kisses and his leaky cock. :3

You'll be a good girl and not complain when he cums in you, right?

divider by @cafekitsune !

2K notes · View notes

dragongirlsnout · 1 year

Text

Go Badge-Free: Tumblr is a multimillion dollar company that doesn't need your loyalty!

Some users ("many" by Tumblr's own unsourced metrics) might want to support Tumblr with something similar to regular donations. Great news! You don't need to, it's a multimillion dollar company, and its parent company, Automattic, was valued at around 7.5 billion dollars in 2021 as stated by none other than Tumblr's Elon-Musk-wannabe CEO himself! Tumblr isn't going to go broke any time soon, and any money you waste on it will just convince staff that the garbage fire they're currently tossing the site into is profitable!

Enter the power of not giving a fuck about useless badges and shitty merch of stolen memes. Everyone with a brain knows auto-renewable subscriptions aren't the way to a "user-led business model", and again, you don't need to show your support for a massive multimedia platform despite whatever their embarrassing ad campaigns that just want money may tell you!

How it works—or doesn't:

Tumblr doesn't care about the users, whether you're giving them money for nothing or not! So take the initiative yourself. Send them negative feedback about the pointless UI updates. Give Tumblr a 1-star rating on the app store or play store. Disable your badges. Block intrusive ads (and potentially dangerous flashing ones). Style the dashboard to look less like a 1 : 1 clone of Twitter. Install additions to fix basic site functionality.

Seriously, who is buying subscriptions besides staff:

The subscription badges do nothing. Nada. Zero. That is, unless staff decides to lock basic functionality behind a subscription in the future, so make so to make it flop before then.

Pricing:

A year's subscription for a useless cosmetic badge costs you $30 USD. Cheaper than Twitter Blue, sure, but it sure does a whole lot less! Meanwhile, fixing your own user experience and complaining to staff is permanently on sale for the low, low price of free. Spend your money on a nice treat instead!

More details:

I don't know how else to put it. This subscription service sucks ass.

That's all for now. No idea who exactly would buy a badge subscription of all things in the first place that staff probably designed in 5 minutes. Maybe someday Tumblr's will figure out how to interpret actual human behavior and user desires, but that day has yet to come. Stay weird, and Tumblr is not your quirky friendly hellsite company <3

4K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 5 days

Note

Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I’d love to see a Nanami x Reader fic where the reader is pregnant but doesn’t realize yet but I’d like showing OBVIOUS symptoms and for Nanami to start to catch on to them, I don’t know if that’s like weird? 😭 Also I hope you’re doing good!!

THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.

Yeah, we're doing this right now

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: well, basically the request above hehe

Warnings: I mean, reader is pregnant lol, fluff fluff fluff, Nanami is just the greenest flag I can't, please tell me you enjoy this as much as I do, I LOVE THAT MAN

Lately, everything feels… off.

It's subtle at first. Mornings are harder than they used to be, a strange kind of sluggishness that lingers in your limbs no matter how much coffee you drink after waking up. Your back aches at the most random times. And don't even get started on the nausea that strikes out of nowhere, leaving you clutching the bathroom sink with trembling hands.

But, still, it doesn’t cross your mind - not at first.

Nanami’s been noticing though. He’s always been perceptive, sharp in the way he observes the world, but lately, his focus seems to rest more on you. It starts with the small things: a subtle glance as you push your breakfast away with a grimace, the way his brow furrows when you wince, pressing a hand to your lower back. He doesn’t ask you about it immediately, and you’re grateful for that. Nanami doesn’t rush things, never has. He knows you well enough to wait until the right moment.

Today, however, something is different.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. You’re both in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the curtains in soft beams. Nanami’s making coffee, his movements precise as always, while you sit at the kitchen table with your hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea. You’ve been craving that instead of coffee these days, the rich scent of the brew turning your stomach in a way it never used to. To be honest, you’ve never been a tea drinker your whole life.

He’s noticed that too.

You yawn, stifling the sound behind your hand as you stretch in your chair. There’s a strange heaviness in your body, and the thought of going back to bed, even after a full night’s sleep, is oddly tempting. It’s the third time this week that the idea of a nap has crossed your mind before noon. You blink hard, forcing your eyes to focus, and turn to Nanami, who’s watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Are you feeling alright?” he questions, his tone neutral but his eyes searching.

“Yeah, why?” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual energy.

Even to your own ears, it sounds tired. You clear your throat and offer a small smile, hoping to brush off the question as well as the wave of concern that starts bubbling up your chest all over again.

“I’ve just been a little out of it lately, that’s all.”

Nanami places his cup down on the counter, his gaze never leaving your face.

“You’ve been ‘a little out of it’ for a while now, darling.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet concern that has your defenses rising instinctively. You sit up straighter, forcing a more convincing smile this time.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired. It’s probably work.”

It’s true, to some extent. Work has been stressful, the usual demands piling up, but this exhaustion feels… different. It’s deeper, sinking into your bones in a way that no amount of rest seems to fix.

Nanami doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel him assessing you. His silence is almost louder than words. You know he won’t push you to talk, but his patience, the way he waits for you to come to your own conclusion, can be just as insistent.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing at your eyes. There’s no way you’ll get out of this situation, not when your beloved boyfriend sits opposite of you with his calm but demanding orbs staring straight through your soul.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. But before you can think of anything else to say, a wave of nausea hits you hard and fast, making you lurch forward. You press a hand to your mouth, eyes wide as the world tilts just slightly. Oh god, not again.

Nanami is at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, warm and grounding.

“Hey, hey… breathe,” he murmurs gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against your spine.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the nausea begins to subside. Slowly, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. The embarrassment is hot on your face, and you can’t quite meet Nanami’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Kento”, you mutter, though you can tell it sounds unconvincing.

Nanami’s hand is still on your back, his touch firm yet gentle. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. You know he’s waiting, giving you space to figure out what’s going on. But even through your haze of denial, a part of you knows the truth is starting to unravel.

“Does this happen often?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer.

“It’s just been the past couple of weeks,” you admit quietly.

“I think it’s stress. Maybe some kind of stomach bug?”

Nanami’s brow furrows slightly, and he crouches down beside your chair, his eyes searching your face with that same quiet intensity.

“Are there any other symptoms?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but then you stop, thinking back over the past few weeks. The tiredness, the nausea, the strange sensitivity to smells, your shifting moods - small things you’d brushed off or tried to ignore. But now, all at once, it feels like they’re adding up, slotting together in a way that you hadn’t considered before.

You glance down at your hand, the one resting on your stomach, and something inside you clicks.

Oh.

Nanami must notice the shift in your expression because his hand stills on your back.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to speak.

“I think… I might be pregnant.”

There. You’ve said it. And the weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between you, a truth you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

Kento doesn’t react immediately. His expression stays calm, though you can see the flicker of something in his eyes - surprise, perhaps, or maybe something more. Did he already suspect this? Is this why he pushed you to think about your symptoms further? Slowly, he straightens up, standing in front of you now as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

You shake your head, feeling a little lost.

“I’m not. I… I hadn’t really thought about it until just now.”

The truth is, you hadn’t considered the possibility at all. With everything going on - work, life, the general busyness of existing, it hadn’t crossed your mind that this could be the reason behind everything you’ve been feeling.

But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but wonder how you missed the signs.

Nanami’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re looking at him. His gaze is steady, calm in a way that grounds you, just like always.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” he says quietly.

“But if you think there’s a chance…”

You nod, your throat suddenly tight.

“Yeah. There might be.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels thick with unspoken emotions, a quiet understanding settling between you. Nanami steps closer, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

“Together.”

The sincerity in his words washes over you, bringing with it a flood of emotions you hadn’t realized you were holding back. You blink, your vision blurring slightly as you reach up to cover his hand with yours.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami’s expression softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I promise” he mutters against your skin.

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else, something warmer, softer. You aren’t alone in this. No matter what happens, you have your boyfriend by your side, steady and unshakable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Do you want to take a test?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s gauging your readiness.

You hesitate, biting your lip.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I guess I should, right?”

Nanami nods, but he doesn’t push.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The idea of taking a test feels overwhelming, like it would make everything real in a way you’re not sure you’re prepared for. But at the same time, the uncertainty is starting to weigh on you, the not knowing gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to gather yourself. When you open them again, Nanami is still there, watching you with that quiet patience you’ve come to rely on so much.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice trembling just a little.

“Okay. I’ll take a test.”

Nanami squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring presence beside you.

“I’ll go get one,” he offers, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, like he’s suggesting something as simple as picking up groceries.

You nod, feeling a little more settled now that a decision has been made.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

He leans down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he grabs his keys and heads for the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he slips out into the hallway.

Once he’s gone, the quiet of the apartment feels almost too loud. You sit there for a long moment, staring at the cup of tea in front of you, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite hold onto.

Pregnant. You might be pregnant.

The idea feels too big, too surreal to grasp, and yet it’s there, lingering just at the edge of your awareness. A part of you is scared, terrified of the changes this could bring. But another part, a part you’re only just beginning to acknowledge, feels something else. Hope, maybe? Excitement? It’s hard to tell.

All you know for sure is that everything feels different now, that your whole life will be turned upside down if this test comes out positive.

When Nanami returns a short while later, test in hand, you take it from him with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small, reassuring nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are some of the longest of your life. You pace back and forth in front of the sink, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the results. The silence feels deafening, and all you can do is focus on your breathing, trying to keep yourself calm.

Finally, the time is up. You glance down at the test, your breath catching in your throat as you read the result.

Positive.

You stare at it for a long moment, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. And then, slowly, the reality starts to sink in.

You’re pregnant.

With shaking hands, you open the bathroom door to find Nanami standing just outside, waiting. He looks up at you, his expression calm but expectant.

“Well?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, your voice catching in your throat as you hold up the test.

“It’s positive.”

For a moment, Nanami doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker to the test in your hand, and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, grounding embrace.

“We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re going to be okay.”

And somehow, with his arms around you, you really believe him. Maybe you will be able to work this out. After all, you have none other than Kento Nanami by your side, right?

“Kento…”, you begin, the flood of sniffs and wild emotions now slowly but surely calming down.

“What is it, darling?”

“Did you…did you know?”

He sends a small smile your way while gently stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I couldn’t be sure. But after seeing you like this for a couple of weeks now, I had some suspicions”, he admits quietly.

You let out a huff.

“I can’t believe you realized it earlier than I did.”

“You are my life, (y/n). I notice every little thin about you.”

“And now you’ll be the father of a child”, you breathe out.

The words still feel strange while rolling off your tongue. Kento Nanami will be a father – the father of your child.

You are pregnant.

This is real.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my child.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain

@risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

895 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 9 months

Note

I just read Jerry and Hedwig reacting to us bleeding on the sheets what about the guys👀 specifically silas (cause my daddy issues run wild for him)😩

Silas, Dr Kry & King Edmund drabbles: bleeding through at a "sleepover" (or in their house)

The girls reaction male!yanderes (mob boss, doctor & king) x fem!reader Warnings?: sexual indication, disgusted by blood, yandere

Silas:

You're on a mission with him, staying in a house belonging to the second in command. Being the boss’s little darling has its benefits — especially in these situations. If you hadn't been his, chances are that you would get killed for ruining someone's sheets.

"Silas", you whisper while shaking him carefully. "Please, wake up. Oh, God, please wake up ..."

He grunts and opens his dark eyes, looking around confusedly before fixating his eyes on you. He freezes.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks raspily and grabs your arm.

"I bled through ...", you whisper weakly, body full pf panic. "I didn't know, I wasn't supposed to start now!"

Silas removes the cover to look at the stain. He doesn't say anything as he removes them all before picking up his phone to call one of his most trustworthy men.

"Don't worry about it, baby", he says tiredly. "I'll fix this."

"Will your second in command get mad?" you ask hesitantly.

"He won't. He knows better." Silas holds the phone to his ear. "I need you to bring me new sheets and to send someone to buy whatever Y/N tells you to get. Here Y/N."

He gives you the phone. You tell the man on the other side what you need. He replies politely, knowing better than to talk informally to you. Silas stands by, watching carefully and rubbing your back.

As soon as you get what you need, you get out of your bottom clothes and change. Silas sits down in bed with you in his lap. He brings his legs up to trap you in his embrace. His rough hands sneak under your shirt to massage your aching stomach.

"You know ...", he whispers in your ear, hand traveling lower. "Exercise helps with cramps ... I know something that is a great form of exercise. Want me to show you?"

You grab his hand, moving it back to your stomach.

"Come on", he smirks against your jaw. "You'd like it."

"I'll kick your nuts if you continue talking", you warn him.

Silas chuckles and pulls the blankets higher, kissing your forehead.

"Women and their temperament", he grins and softens his face. "Guess I have to wait then. Why don't you try going to sleep, little thing? It's late."

"Are you sure your second in command won't be mad?" you ask carefully.

"If he even dares to snarl at you, I'll stain his sheets with his blood instead." Silas kisses your lips with a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to be worried about, little thing, I've always got your back."

Dr Kry:

He has installed a baby monitor, just a week prior, to being able to supervise you 24/7. He wakes up by hearing shuffling from the machine and takes a look to see you grabbing all of your sheets in your arms. Dr Kry frowns. Are you going to sleep on the floor again? You have such weird ideas to entertain yourself. But the look of sheer guilt and horror paints your face, knocking those thoughts out of his head. Dr Kry hurries to grab his silk robe and hurry up to your room.

You're currently washing them in the bathtub. You freeze when you hear him unlock the door and enter the room.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"Here", you reply quietly, watching how he enters the bathroom.

Dr Kry crouches down beside you on the floor, putting his hand on your shoulder. He glances between the sheets and your face.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I-I bled through", you say. "I'm so sorry, doctor, I will fix it-"

"No, you're not." Dr Kry grabs your arm and pulls you up in your feet. "I'll fix it. You're not well, you shouldn't do this."

You feel bad. Dr Kry works long shifts and during his only rest, you've forced him up to clean up the mess you've caused.

"Y/N, it's fine", the doctor reassures you and walks over to give you a short hug. "Things like this happens. You should look at it from another angle — you can be pregnant. You're fertile. Alright? That's a good thing. A very good thing."

He's secretly glad that his poisoning hasn't affected your reproduction organs. You need them. He wants you to have them. Dr Kry wants nothing more than to have children with you.

"Let's stop crying and realize that this isn't a big thing, okay?" he says and wipes your tears. "You don't have to be ashamed. I've watched much, much worse things."

"Like what?" you ask quietly.

Dr Kry smiles teasingly. "I've seen people spill urine samples on themselves, have had people using the rear temperature stick for a patients mouth, and whatnot. This is nothing. It's natural, nothing to be ashamed of."

You try not to smile. "Did someone really use the wrong temperature stick?"

Dr Kry grins and nods, happy to see you a bit calmer.

"Let's get you some painkillers now so you can go rest", he says and puts his hand on your back to guide you. "I'll change the sheets, and you can just sit by, okay? Everything you need is in the bathroom."

He sits with you until the cramps stop, and decide to stay in the room with you while you sleep, just in case you would wake up again. He smiles slightly for himself. The poisioned air hasn't ruined your chances of ferility, he couldn't be more greateful.

King Edmund

You're terrified of telling him. Edmund is the type to believe that you can hold it in. With absolutely zero knowledge about females, risk is that he will get mad at you for ruining his expensive sheets instead of understanding. You know that he buys them from special places. One of a kind.

Edmund has never been taught how women work, it has been taboo and unnecessary for him, as a king, to learn. The only thing he knows is that a woman bleeds once a month, and that is it. Nothing more. He doesn't know how it works or why it happens.

But you can't stop the maid from telling him. He comes walking from his office with a deep frown on his face. You're dead. Before sending the maids out, he walks over to the bed and inspects the damage. When the girls are gone and the door is closed, he turns to you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

"I thought that you would get mad", you admit quietly. "It's your expensive sheets ..."

"And you think that it'll help the situation by sending one of the maids to tell me, instead of telling me yourself?"

"I didn't send her. I didn't want you to know ... at all."

"Why?"

"I told you ... I was scared that you'd get mad. You'd have told me to keep it in."

He groans, hiding his face in his hands. "For fucks sake, Y/N!" He removes his hands. "Why in the living Hell would I care more about about a pair of sheets rather than my own wife?"

You don't answer. Edmund walks over and grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug.

"You underestimate me, my jewel", he mutters and kisses your temple. "Now, go take a bath."

He tells a maid to fill the tub with scalding hot water to soothe your cramps and tells another maid to change the sheets.

"Burn the sheets and the night gown", he tells the maid. "I don't want anyone unworthy to see my queen's blood, got it?"

And the maid nods quickly before running off.

While you sit in the steaming tub, Edmund sits on the floor beside it, keeping you company. He should be doing work, but instead he's here, with you.

"I'm sorry about your sheets", you sigh and lean against the tub. "I know that they're expensive."

"Shut up about those fucking sheets now", Edmund groans and caresses your cheek. "I have enough to buy a hundred more sheets. I could buy the entire world, if I wanted to. A few sheets are nothing for me."

He leans over to kiss your wet forehead.

"Are you disgusted?" you ask carefully.

"A bit ... but not as much as I thought I'd be", Edmund replies with a grimace. "I'm more concerned about you, to be honest. Seeing you bleed, in any way, makes my heart sink in a disgusting way. I'm just angry I don't have anyone to blame for your pain."

You try to joke. "Blame my parents for making me a girl."

But he looks deadly serious. "No, never. They made you ... my wife and queen. I could never blame them for giving you this pain." He sighs and taking your hand. "If there is anything i can do to take the pain away, tell me. Teach me."

"Well, you actually had this right, the warm water. It helps."

"Anything else?"

"Sugar. Just for the hormones."

Edmund nods, thinking. He shouts for a maid to tell the kitchen staff to make cakes. He then turns back to you and smiles proudly. Maybe he isn't as bad as you thought?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #female reader #yandere ocs #yandere king #yandere male #male yandere

1K notes · View notes

illuminiscentboba · 2 months

Text

are you wearing my merch?!

synopsis: they walk in on you trying their volleyball merch but you guys haven't confessed...yet(?)

featuring: atsumu, akaashi and matsukawa

ATSUMU:

he ended up walking in on you trying on their merch. "Y/N?!" his loud yell startled you and your quick to cover your atsumu miya headband. "is that...my merch?" he says incredulously. you consider denying it but his eyes are fixed on the font of his name on your shirt. oh no...you forgot to cover that too. "yeah." your embarrassed that he found out you were interested in him this way. but him on the other hand, his jaw is still on the floor, everything and nothing running through his mind. you? wearing his merch? he dreamed of this moment, in fact he was already planning to ask you to cheer for his team, cheer for him but did you think about him too? you started to unravel the headband. "noooo, don't take it off!!!!" he takes it from your hands, shifting your hair, concentrating as he tried to retie it. you find his struggling rather cute, trying to stand still as he fumbles with the knot. "you better wear this at my next match...I'll look for you in the crowd, you hear me?" "theres no way you'll find me with all those fans." you laugh, but he's serious. "i'll have you know, I have great eyesight! theres no way i would miss your cute smile and your cheering!" "he's right." osamu adds and you two jump at the sight of him leaning against the doorway. "theres no way he doesn't know all the details of your face with all the staring he does." "'SAMU!!!!" he sticks his tongue out at his brother who is swinging at him. it wasn't osamu's fault that atsumu has chickened out on confessing to you for what has been the 10th time. at the rate atsumu was moving you would be old and wrinkly before he even got to confess his feelings. "well" the twins still, both anxiously awaiting your response "I think its only fair that you owe me a date if i have to wear your merch don't you think?" they had a practice match to get to unfortunately and so you couldn't keep them for long. "a date?! wait...you like me back?? 'samu!!!! oh my god she likes me back!!" "I heard her the first time, dumbass." "wheres my phone!! i've got to resave your phone number as girlfriend!!!" "here we go..." osamu drags his whining brother away, you know how kita gets when they're late.

AKAASHI

he's apologetic, with the way your hands freeze gripping the shirt around your body its clear that you were changing. "oh, sorry about that. I'll close the door." he's quick to step backwards, already closing the door. "wait!" you panic. how are you supposed to explain the fukurodani headband and worse, the go akaashi go t-shirt you were sporting. did he think it was weird? did it make him uncomfortable? he paused, poking his head in. now he's got a better look at you, finally making out the lettering of the headband and his name on your chest. "is that for me?" he asks the obvious, was there another akaashi you knew of? the fukurodani headband makes him see logic. "that is for me." he corrects himself, inviting himself inside. up until now hes been pining for you, and even the team knew it with how much he accidentally brought you up or the way his eyes would wander to you. he spots another go akaashi ribbon, proving it wasn't an accident. you follow his eyes, laughing sheepishly at the display. "yeah...i told my friend that i thought your setting was cool and she got me all this merch." he smiles at the compliment "you should wear that at the match, it'll make my setting even better" he suggests, giddy at the idea of you in his merch and your cute laugh at his suggestion. "actually..." he gets an idea, slipping off his freshly washed jersey. you yelp as he pulls it over his head, a peek at his muscles and now ruffled dark locks of hair. he holds it out to you. "would you rather try on the real deal?" you try it on, posing in front of the mirror. "it suits you more than me" he admits, slapping a hand over his mouth at the accidental revelation. "maybe i should wear it more often then?" he blushes "maybe."

MATSUKAWA

matsukawa is too smug when he sees you walk out of the volleyball unofficially official 'fanroom', sporting a shirt with not oikawa's name, not iwaizumi's either but his name. he doesn't remember if he had even bids his teamates goodbye before rushing over. "nice shirt you've got there y/n." you flinch, your hands going up to cover the lettering. "what do you mean? this is a regular shirt." obviously no one is convinced, and your bothered by how cute you find his toothy grin and the lift of his eyebrows at your embarassment, he wants to push your buttons even further, "so you're saying that you didn't look for a shirt with my name on it specifically?" every time you turn away from him he comes closer, prying your hands from his face. "yeah, they ran out of oikawa shirts." you lie. you don't miss the way his smile drops and the disappointed slump of his shoulders. "did they really? were lying to make me feel better?" "No!! I...I lied, I was fighting for my life to get my hands on this. you have quite a lot of fans of your own actually." you wince at the memory, rubbing your shoulders that many people were bumping to get the merch. you almost wish you stood on the lie because why was he giving the cheshire cat a run for its money? "Oh? it sounds like you've got competition" "don't make me go back and return the shirt" "fine, fine." he gives in, struggling to keep his hands to himself. "wear that at our next match please." "whats in it for me?" he ponders for a moment, "would a fan be interested in...a date?" "deal." "...wait....wait a second?! WHAT!!! Y/N???" "don't be late." "HELLO?! IS THIS A CONFESSION?!"

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa hcs #matsukawa issei #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji hq #akaashi fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu headcanons #akaashi headcanons #miya atsumu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines

447 notes · View notes