#I did not do anything different than what I do for every post I make?

[ofbreathandflame]

who do you think is the most realistic abuser between rhysand and tamlin?

Hi anon!!!

I feel like the overblown for Tamlin has a specific function, and so I usually end-up disagreeing with anti-Tamlin (not criticisms, but this particular crowd of people - if you know, you know ) sentiments. First and foremost, Tamlin and Rhys are purposely made into foils; that is, we are supposed to look at their actions and compare – once we get to MAF. In the first book, the story isn’t necessarily trying to make a point about Tamlin, so the ‘red flags’ being pointed out aren’t moments of intentional, tactical abuse.

I don’t think there’s an actual ‘realistic’ way to experience abuse. I don’t think it’s an adequate way to talk about abuse because there isn’t a universal experience with abuse. Everyone’s experience is different! There are signs, and staples that can help people identify abusive partners and/or experiences, but those experiences in and of themselves are unique, as is the response to abuse.  I’ve always thought of Tamlin as a blank canvas that can be imposed upon. He’s abusive, in the fact he does a string of abusive things. He has all the hallmarks of an abuser…but none of the threads that make him feel…like anything more than a canvas, in my opinion. Like – I see how people see their abuser in him, but I also don’t believe he’s a very consistent character. He doesn’t do things for the same reasons, as MaF tries to argue; he also doesn’t act the same between those books. It’s subjective, but character wise he doesn’t stay the same.  I’m sorry, but I genuinely disagree with the way Feyre characterizes Tamlin. If the story argues that Tamlin developed abusive tendencies because of his trauma, great! But like,,,the story tries to argue that he was always like that, and Feyre just never noticed and I just…disagree. I have my issues with Tamlin, naturally, but I think the reason Rhys is much scarier to me, is that he consistently has the same justification, with seemingly no introspection. He gets away with the abuse because he is constantly sympathized with. The only reason I don’t dislike Tamlin is because he faces consequences. Rhys doesn’t. He also does the same abusive things to Feyre in like…every book. He doesn’t have a character arc. So, it’s not realism I’m looking at, but consistency.

The more fruitful question should be consistency. Is the dynamic between Tamlin and Feyre consistent, and my answer to that is no. I don’t believe we get a pattern of abuse that is consistent across the two books Tamlin is heavily featured. Tamlin having anger issues is a characteristic that merely exists, for one, because Tamlin is naturally an adaptation of another character and therefore embodies those characteristics. It’s not to say that Tamlin doesn’t have a particular way of handling trauma (see: violence), but that consistently, Tamlin has always known to remove himself from the general public when he does. We never see him leverage his violence against his peers or Feyre ever – even when Feyre is effectively his prisoner. So while his anger is a consistent character trait, it isn’t a consistent abusive Trait. It’s also…the norm for stress relief in this society (see: Rhys + Cass + Az’s schedule beat downs to ‘calm rhys down’). He’s also never used violence against anyone in the entirety of TaR to ‘calm down.’

This is a change for Rhys, as discussed in a previous post, who actively does consistently leverage violence against Feyre (and his Inner Circle) since his introduction in the first book. Tamlin, as initially characterized, is revulsed so heavily by having to hurt his people, that he physically cannot go through with Amarantha’s curse. He chooses his people. He is disgusted with having to whip Lucien. He physically couldn’t stand what Amarantha did to Lucien’s eye – so much so that he vomited as soon as he saw it. In MaF, this entire dynamic (not just his abuse of Feyre, but of his citizens) becomes of focal point. The story tries to argue that Tamlin would willingly harm his own soldiers, and Lucien, when in the first book he literally stood against Amarantha and refused to participate in the curse, with no power. Tamlin doesn’t allow Feyre to leave the house in MaF, yet in TAR, when Feyre is attacked by those monsters in the forest, Tamlin literally just tells Feyre to be careful when she goes out, he tells her to stay close when he’s not there, and they leave it at that. Tamlin doesn’t ask Feyre ‘what does she want from’, as we established. All I’m saying is there’s no consistency in this behaviour. The story can’t even figure out whether Tamlin has always been like this or has just become like this.

And then my next question become has Tamlin ever leveraged violence against Feyre, prior to the events of MaF – and the answer is no. So not only is it not consistent on a character level, it isn’t even consistent between the dynamic between Feyre and Tamlin. When Tamlin initially falls in love with Feyre, he falls in love with the human girl. He doesn’t want a Lady – he doesn’t even believe he’s going to make it out alive. He falls in love with her because she isn’t just that, and he literally subtly shunned the way his mother would not say anything when his father became a tyrant. He’s essentially telling Feyre he doesn’t want her to be like his mother. So like, even that angle is again, not consistent with what we’ve seen. Snd because of this, people have purposely insert and add things to make him look like a worse character because like there’s nothing in that proves Tamlin is worse than Rhys as the book kind of argues.

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti acosf #anti sjm: tamlin #anti feyre #anti acomaf #i kind a wrote a rhys part but im too lazy to finish it

[velvetvexations]

can I be honest I feel like people in the fandoms (and to an extent the IH) treatment of KLCK compared to Fabian is a clear case of misogyny

our rich privileged soft boy vs their rich privileged annoying bitch

our boy who makes race insensitive remarks sometimes but it's not his fault vs their bitch whose mental issues make her make bad remarks in private

our self centered but adorable cute boy vs their self centered narcissistic bitch

idk if I'm onto anything honestly I'm very tired and have my brain on npd mode and if I posted anything about KLCK's mental issues on the subreddit I'd be ridiculed so I need to scream at someone who gets it. hope you've been doing okay! fbdnfnds

Brennan really honeypotted all the NPD members of the D20 fandom with her, huh?

But I think you're half-right. The immediate and insane reaction to KLCK having an annoying tone of voice and going hogwild on her to the extent that the fandom did, especially the infinite repetition of calling her bitch and cunt, definitely smacks of misogyny. There are other factors, though, chiefly the parasocial relationship making the fandom not only reflect but greatly amplify the opinions of the Intrepid Heroes. Like, if Brennan said he didn't like mustard this fandom would riot in the streets until mustard was removed from store shelves. With Siobhan and Ally going as hard as they did on despising KLCK, the urge to partake in the activity with your fake internet celebrity best friends did what it does.

The fact that Kipperlilly's parents were in the housing market in particular did not do her any favors. Like, the fans call Brennan a decolonial philosopher. Like I've said a few times before because it's the perfect metaphor, the fandom loves to LARP the Cultural Revolution - and that's barely even a metaphor as opposed to just literally what they're actually doing. The political aspect combines with the parasocial one, too, because now you're saving the world with your fake internet celebrity best friends. The moment, I mean the exact moment I started getting into KLCK, because up until then I was right there with everyone else going wHaT aRe YoU FoUr DiFfErEnT DoGs, was when I noticed fans on Reddit calling her a nepo baby. I started a thread about it trying to just, like, educate these children on what that term actually means and the replies drove me completely out of my mind.

So it's like, Fabian mainly gets a pass because he's a PC, because the fandom is wrapped around the cock of every PC and stubbornly refuses to accept them as anything less than perfect baby angels. Like I said, though, you are for sure correct in identifying that misogynistic element of how fans pounced on KLCK and identified her as a bitchy cunt bitch whore because her energy is very slightly grating. Or really, not even grating, honestly? Like she's clearly supposed to come off as obnoxious, but she's nothing but polite and mildly cheerful all the way up until "I want you to go fuck yourself", and even THAT was in response to the Bad Kids picking a fight.

#dimension 20 #fhjy #kipperlilly copperkettle

[buggachat]

mmmmm are the replies on my last beau part not working?? does. anybody know why that might be the case

#I did not do anything different than what I do for every post I make? #oh god what if replies don't work on this post either #what's happening

[add1ctedt0you]

What a plot twist you were. [x]

#Like. The narrator introduces jc to us as the antagonist #Then we got to know him. Not who people think he's. But who he really is #And we saw jc giving wwx a piggyback. Giving him soup. Rescuing him. Putting himself between wwx and any danger (madam yu/wen soldiers) #And even the staged fight. It's yk. Staged #jc wanted to protect wwx at any cost. But wwx wasn't willing to compromise. But jc did #The fight was wwx's idea. Because jc is an enabler (just like jfm and jyl) #jc is ready to bend for his loved ones sake #The point is. Every action jc takes. Is in the name of his loves ones' safety. And surprise. wwx is one of the people jc really cares about #Even after wwx' return. Aside a broken cup. jc isn't doing much to stop wwx or anything. We know that jl was able to free wwx from Zidian #only because jc - Zidian's primary master- wanted it! #And jc fling himself into danger countless times to save wwx even though wwx can't sit still with him for a hot minute #What I wanted to say it's that the jc is presented to us - the mean ungrateful man- is very different from the real jc - #the indulgent uncle who rolls his eyes at his nephew antics. the brother who buries the hatchet for his sister's happiness. #the uncle who kinda wants to help wn to get up from the floor because he was an ass to jc but he helped jl and that's what matters to jc #the sect leader who let two women speak freely their mind in a patriarchy society #People better than me have already said this. shit I can't remember my point lmao #Like. jc is presented as an antagonist but what this man wanted was an apology and an explanation #This post is a mix of a rant I wrote last year (ha) after seeing a bad take. About what I don't remember lmaoo. And me wanting #to make gifs of wzc in this scene. Why does he look so good. It should be illegal. Seriously #jiang cheng #*mgifs

[bardkin]

been doing some internal questioning that boils down to “is it the auADHD or i am plural in some way???”

and i’m. not sure if i want to know the answer. at least not yet.

#ensiger #possibly plural #this post is brought to you by a monoconscious culture post that hit a lot harder than i thought it would #'wait how long have i been me. when did i stop being the other guy' #also a lot of the Dragonheart Collective's essay points in Dissociation. & internal thought voice. #the only point in Identity disturbances that really hit was - #Feeling like you weren't born in that body & that you simply appeared one day inside of it. #like. i sometimes feel like ''I'' is more than one internally. #like i'm One Person in the way a cartoon character can be animated/storyboarded by multiple artists. #does that make sense as like?? a plural thing??? #or is that just the depersonalization & bees in my brain?? #also that like. the 'current me' stepped into my body & 'replaced' whoever used to be here. i have (most) of my memories & shit but just. #i'm not totally sure if this is a 'i have grown and changed since i was a child' or 'i'm a different person in every sense of the word.' #i kind of stewed on this questioning a couple years(?) ago when i was first learning about multiplicity. but nothing ever really came of it #bc digging further into it didn't feel useful. all the stuff i was reading didn't feel like it was lining up with what's going on in here #i've recently been doing some reading on monoconscious & median systems but. #i don't want to act on anything until i Know. or at least until i Know More. #also i'm about 90% sure my kintypes are not headmates/alters/etc. they feel like / similar to my gender & not. ''extra Me's'' so to speak

[girlcrushau]

#me? about to use tumblr as a diary again? in 2024? unfortunately:/ #but here have a waterfall i saw on a hike last week as payment #i am sO tired and exhausted emotionally after dating #there's this guy that i fr thought was going to last and be around for a long time. we spent like every moment together that we could for 2 #months straight and if we werent physicaly together we were texting or calling or on ft . just every part of our day had the other in it #not once did i ever feel unwanted undesired or uncared for. not once did i feel that i wasnt sure of his intentions. i felt safer with him #in those 2 months than i ever did with any one else i could think to compare to. #until one day he just didnt think it important to communicate any more. after 3 days of nearly nothing .. hardly any talking . i asked if #he was ok if we were ok. what was going on in his head. he said some ive just been with my buddies and family and havent been on my phone #and just. immediately thats heartbreak yanno. thats :// thats what they say when theres a new girl. but there'd never been a reason to think #there was another girl so i was like ok we're gonna trust bc this dude has been So good in every way. so i said imy but i understand. enjoy #your time with your buddies and with your fam -- i cant wait to hear about it (and hold you) #and i havent heard from him in the 3 weeks since. just randomly #so last night #i send the dreaded 'i miss you' text. #i dont expect to hear back and i accept the hurt that will come with that and the confusion that i've felt settles deeper into my heart #until this afternoon i hop on ig and see a hard launch that was posted an hour after my text was sent #that shit kinda hurt different. but also sent me into a bit of a delirious state where all i could do is laugh bc are you for fucking real #did she see my message? i know it. bc i know him and i know that he wouldnt hide anything from the person he's giving his heart #and his softness to. i can almost imagine how he showed her and promised her theres nothing to worry about #and there really isnt anything to worry about because he genuinely is the type to give his all to the relationship he's in #which feels silly to say after what happened w us. like no there wasnt a title ever #it sucks to call it a situationship because a month ago we were laughing in bed together about how we could never bc we were all in. #just the timing of the hard launch makes me giggle. did my text push them to have a conversation about what they are. was she really the #reason that he went away on me. #im trying not to blame myself . trying not to think about the phone calls i didnt answer. about what i could have done differently. trying #not to think about where we would be if i didnt let my anxieties hold me back. if i wasnt scared about what he'd think of the parts of me #that i keep hidden just a little bit longer than the rest. #and at the same time im trying not to put him on a pedestal. but that pedestal is just where i wholeheartedly believe he belongs #he set the bar for me. he set the standard. i was never too much. i was never too little. he made me feel perfect just as i am

[raksh-writes]

Finally! Im pretty nuch finished with my uni assignment for the week ^^ I'll probably need to clean it up a bit before sending it in (maybe even tonight, a day early, cause why not) but tbh my attitude changed so much since I last went to uni, before I needed to have it all perfect and I was stressing over it so much, but now I look at it and just wave my hand like "good enough" 😂🙈

#personal #Raksh posts #tbf I did try to make it all look nice and unified between the sources #but since they are very different it does kinda change between them a bit #with a couple I wrote a few lines of description what I did and why #but I don’t really feel the need to do that with every single source #like if I gave the explanation in the other sources then its logical I did the same things with others right? #at least I think it is #I wondered if I should do like an overall summary at the end from all the data #but the prof didn’t mention anything like that needed so #I dunno #I'll see when I get to final edits either in the evening or tomorrow #but Im not keen on putting more into this than needed #its supposed to primarly be a help for us with our thesis so I feel like its mostly good enough #now Im gonna go have some fun #and try no to sneese myself to death in the meantime #its so irritating I swear #I was all good for weeks in that front and suddenly got an awful flare yesterday so now Im sneezing up a storm all the time ughhh #anyway I got myself Shadow of Mordor a couple days ago and I want to finally check it out #so Im gonna go enjoy myself for a bit ^^

[brittlebutch]

the only thing i don't like about 'Alex should have asked for help' AUs/theories is that they all seem to have the base assumption that we actually Know Anything about The Operator, and the fact of the matter is that we simply Don't.

#N posts stuff #we have Assumptions about how TO works but. we don't KNOW shit about it - that's The Horror of the thing #we can GUESS as much as Tim&Brian guessed that the medication makes a difference but we don't Know that it does shit #(as much as ALEX guessed that killing everyone was the best way to protect them from it) #like. as far as we saw in MH - Tim was NOT actually protected from the influence of The Operator; time and time again he falls victim to it #just like everyone else did; he attacks Jay. he attacks Alex. he even KILLED Alex under the influence of the operator #<- that's WHY he switches so violently from trying to talk Alex out of everything to suddenly stabbing him to death - #because All of A Sudden The Operator was in the room with them and that's what made the difference #(Jay's e73 catatonia had been going on for Weeks before Tim started splitting pills; time could have been Just as much a factor as the meds #i could be proven wrong but it Does feel at least a little significant to me that we haven't seen Jessica taking Anything in the new comics #even SKULLY doesn't know how it works - why it affects some more than others; even They're guessing #if a thing Has Rules that automatically makes it less scary. Every character/audience member Wants there to be rules #but the honest fact is that as far as anyone KNOWS - the Operator doesn't have any <- THAT's why the story plays out as it does #and that's exactly why it could never have played out any different - everyone is doing their best with what little information they have #and no matter who they are or what decisions they made it was Never going to be enough to save any of them. #mh lb

[joelsgreys]

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

[dunmeshistash]

Okay I think I'm ready to write the second part of this post about Milsiril

To make it easier for me I'll just divide this into her relationship with Kabru, Mithrun and Helki (her ex-canary prisoner teammate)

First about Kabru

This is an extra from the daydream hour 5. The caption says "Something like this might as well have happened" so its probably not canon but could be. I honestly think his reaction to Milsiril visiting and being overbearing says a lot about the type of relantionship they have. This is the fakest bitch in the whole of dungeon meshi, he never says what he trully thinks unless there's an advantage to doing so, he's a people pleaser that does and says anything to make people like/trust him. And yet he immediatly converts into "Mooooooom you're embarassing meeeeee" when he sees it's Milsiril.

This translation used "Mom" but as I understand the original he uses the more formal version so I think it would be closer to "Mother" but still he acknowleges her as his Mother, and he acts like her kid in every interaction we see between them.

I really don't understand where the idea that he learned to be fake from being "forced" to be her adoptive son comes from.

(Continuing under a cut)

The other interaction we see between them is the Kabru extra from the Adventurer's Bible

Kabru comes to her with a deep fear he clearly has had even before she adopted him, he trusted her with this fear and she did not disappoint him, she comforted him and then gave him the information he needed to believe what she was saying

I'd also like to point out in no moment she discouraged him from calling his his bio-mom "Mom". He also says she taught her children everything they asked

I doubt this would only be true for him, it also mirrors something she said in the manga

"You can go ahead and learn all you want about something else." I believe it when Kabru says she made every effort to answer her children's questions. I think this is also the way she expresses the love she has for them. Plus I love the thought bubble with Kabru mirroring what he learned from her. I also love this daydream hour, she sacrifices her own comfort to do something for Kabru.

Milsiril isn't a perfect mother tho, besides the fact she is overprotective she comes from a very different culture from her children. I like to call her Kabru's white mom cause I think that would be the real world equivalent. This extra is the one I think the most about showing this context perfectly

Kabru wants to share Utaya sweets but looks at his mom looking gloomy/rejected so he talks about fruitcake instead. This very rude for Milsiril to do since she's kinda trying to overwrite his actual cultural background, but I think its done more as a "I want you to like the things I like" rather than something nefarious, and once again Kabru doesn't hide at all his distaste for it, he does the bare minimum to please his mom since she's being dramatic but he doesn't lie to her, he shows how displeased he is about fruitcake, something he refuses to do when eating the harpy omelette that is way worse, because he must make a good impression for Laios. Kabru is honest with his overbearing white mom once again.

Now a little about Rin, from Kabru's context, this is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

(look at Helki he's such a gremlin i love him) anyway, Rin has a trauma about elves, they really mistreated her so she hates them, but when they notice she isn't thriving they go to Milsiril for help (Helki specifically I'll talk more about him next). I think this indicates she really has a better understanding of short lived kids, her kids are thriving differently from the ones the other elves try to care for. I'd also like to remember she lives secluded from other elves so while Kabru probably had lots of interactions with elves during his life, most of it was probably spent with Milsiril and her other adoptive kids. She also asks Kabru if he would do this to help Rin, he isn't being forced or anything, I also think it's good that Milsiril knows she cant take in any more kids, this to me shows she's worried about the quality of life her kids have. That is all to say, Rin is the one with elf trauma, not Kabru, because Kabru had Milsiril to shelter him from them.

Helki

This will be short and sweet since there's barely anything about Helki, he's her prisioner companion from her time in the canaries, but he was pardoned after Utaya, it says so in the Canarie's Structure page in the new adventurer's guide but I cant really find it translated again... so here's google's machine translation (I remember it saying "Retired and pardoned as a reward after Utaya", something like that)

so officially he isn't a prisoner anymore, but I think he still works as a canary, even so he and Milsiril seem quite close, he is the one to go talk to her about Rin, He is there when she's training Kabru (both laughing at Kabru and then participating). I saw people theorizing she stays close to him because he is also someone who she can feel superior to, but I don't believe it at all, he's STILL in contact with her even after they have nothing to with each other, I think they really have a friendship, and there's no point where it seems like she feels like she's better than him or that he's less than her, people seem to interpret Milsiril and her relationships in the worst possible ways every time and I don't understand why.

This segways into Mithrun

I've also seen people assuming she only got close to Mithrun because now he needs her and has no power over her, once again with the theory that Milsiril surrounds herself with people she can feel superior to. But once again, Milsiril had a change of perspective about Mithrun after seeing his Dungeon

Rather than she feeling superior to him I think rather she realized he was just like her. (And I think she's friends with Helki for a similar reason, it's probably easier to see him as an equal than other nobles)

I've also seen this part used as proof of that. "He said that you've got suspicious ulterior motives and that I shouldn't listen to you" as if that's true, but this is past Mithrun, the one that didn't trust anyone and thought ill of all his teammates, ofc he doesn't believe someone would help him without an ulterior motive. This doesn't prove much about her real motivations.

Also before she showed up, Mithrun was being cared for by servants hired by his brother, he isn't someone helpless she has power over, he is still a member of an important Noble family that has a caring brother providing for him, he can do without Milsiril, he had done without her for 20 years before Utaya happened and she quit the Canaries.

This is all to say I think Milsiril is just a white(elf) adoptive mom doing her best, I don't see much of anything nefarious about her or her motivations, she is flawed as all the dunmeshi characters are, she isn't a perfect mom, she isn't an evil mom, she's just a person.

Elves in general also see short lived species as "children" so I imagine this makes her "You'll always be my baby" attitude way worse, she really treats pre-teen/teen Kabru like he's a toddler sometimes. But she also respected him enough to go all out in training him. I think they're a family with everything that entails.

PS: I didn't get much into Interracial adoption since this is something that happens irl too and I don't know much about all the issues that entails, but in the end, in this case, it seems like a net positive for the kids she adopts considering all we see about how she raised Kabru.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #Milsiril #Mithrun #Kabru #The Canaries #part 2 of 2 #longpost #long post #Kabru of Utaya #Helki #dunmeshi thoughts #Dunmeshi Extra

[gay-dorito-dust]

How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …

Dick: a solid 8.5/10.

A very clingy bean.

Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.

In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’

And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀

‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.

‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.

So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.

Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.

The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.

He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.

At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.

Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.

For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.

Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.

He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.

Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.

However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.

This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.

‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.

‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.

You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.

You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’

Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10

He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.

Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.

He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.

It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.

It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc comics x reader #dc x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfiction #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson x you #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #jaime reyes imagines #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes fanfiction #dc fluff #nightwing x you #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader

[pellucid-constellations]

Only in Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries

a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.

~~

There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 

He had learned that early on. 

In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 

But you were also his mate. 

The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 

“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 

And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 

“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”

Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 

“Azriel—” 

“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 

“You were talking with Rhys?” 

It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 

But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 

As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 

And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 

Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 

You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 

You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 

But then Rhys decided you were needed. 

With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 

“Reconsider.” 

“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 

“Send Majda.” 

Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 

“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 

“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 

“Rhysand.” 

Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.

“Is she…” 

The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 

Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 

“No,” he replied, quick and low. 

“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 

And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 

When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 

He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.

There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 

“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 

Why couldn’t he come, again? 

Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 

“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 

“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 

Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 

“Here to see us off, Az?” 

That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 

So, you went to Windhaven. 

And then you came home hurt. 

Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 

Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 

You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 

Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 

Azriel thought he heard you scream. 

“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.

“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 

Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 

Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 

The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 

“She’s your mate?” 

“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 

The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 

He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 

Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 

When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 

He was a fool. 

“Azriel?” 

He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 

When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 

“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”

The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 

It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 

“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 

“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.

It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 

You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 

Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 

“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 

Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 

There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.

Determination set a line in his brow. 

“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 

“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 

Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 

“Only when I dream.” 

You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.

As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 

And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #azriel

[flamingpudding]

Glitterbombs for rogues

A/N: I got sick over the holidays. So I did not do any of the writing I originally wanted to do. So instead of that Christmas Story you get this Mark Rober inspired little tidbit.

Tim had a new favorite Engineer Youtube. The boy was a bit younger than him but a genius Engineer judging by the hand full of videos Tim had marathoned through. According to the listed self-introduction part of the video, Danny was currently an engineering student in Gotham with the goal to work one day for NASA. (Tim held out some hopes that he maybe could snag the kid for WE if possible. He had already sent out an internship offer after the third video he had watched)

Either way, Danny had potential and ideas that borderlined on mad science. But made his videos of his little projects even more entertaining and interesting to watch. Tim's favorite so far was Danny's explanation on how he reconstructed his toaster so that it would launch itself into space after the third his roommate burned toast with it. He did buy his roommate a new toaster at the end of the video though.

Still Tim liked this guy and his videos. So with anticipation he clicked on one of the newer videos. The title having caught his attention: 'Why Glitter'.

Instead of the usual introduction bit with little highlights of Danny's previous project the video started out with a big fat warning in red letter to not attempt to replicate anything in the video. That had Tim very curious already, but then a little video clip following that had Tim spitting out the coffee he was just sipping from.

Thankfully he missed spitting on his phone, still he jumped out of his cozy bed where he had been watching YouTube on his phone and hurried over to his laptop. The video, meanwhile, was continuing playing. He could hear the usual music from the introduction part as well as Danny's voice explaining his reasosn -which were valid, Tim had to agree with some of them- once that part was done.

By now he had fired up his laptop and was researching. The video in the background was explaining how Danny had build his Glitterbombs similar to the once another youtuber had but slightly modified them since he was not going to use fart-spray. Tim eyes widened as he found the first correlating news articles, wondering how they hadn't seen them sooner, but a glance at the date revealed that they were only posted a couple of hours ago.

Danny in the video was no explaining about his fist chooses victim and Tim dived onto his bed from his desk to get his phone back in his hands. Wide eyed, he watched as Danny obviously with a GoPro strapped to his head, crawled through what looked like an air vent. Once he reached an opening he looked through the slits into what appeared to be Riddlers hide out. Danny took the Camara of his head so that he could grin into it making the sign for silence as he barely contained his own chuckles. The other then waited for a moment, the camera work now getting wonky and the video even glitching out but a second later Danny was back in focuse before pointing down and then directing the Camara to his view. There in Riddlers hideout now sat Danny's self engineered glitterbomb.

"No he didn't..." Tim muttered as the video cut to a different scene. Danny was now walking through the sewers, humming cheerfully while explaining why he chose who he choose.

Another cut and... Tim spluttered. How the hell did Danny manage to just walk into Arkam?! So he hadn't seen wrong at the beginning of the video.

Growing paller with every cut on how Danny delivered his self-engineered Glitter bombs, Tim started to fear for his new favorite youtubers safety. Thankfully he had already done his work on Danny's person when he sent the internship offer. Now he just needed to get Danny to freaking safty.

He dragged himself to his laptop still in disbelieve as various clips of the rogues getting glitterbombed from the bombs perspective started playing. And yep, he definitely didn't see wrong now in the beginning. The Joker was one of Danny's chooses victums. Aside from the fact that he was so going to download and save that video for eternity as well as share it with his brothers and friends, (because as funny as it was that most of them were Gotham rogues, Luther and another millionaire by the name of Masters had also been made victims.), he still had to figure out how to ensure this definitely insane youtubers safer from the warmth of 90% of their rogues now.

Great newly discovered favorite youtuber has just painted a big fat red target on himself.

Tim was just about to call everyone in when a bonus at the end of Danny's video started to play.

He recognized that safe house.

He recognizes the weapons displayed on the walls also.

Oh... that's...

Still laughing Tim still sent out a message to everyone. When asked why all he did was sent them the link to the video with to timestamps.

The first one of the Joker getting glitterbombed

The second one being Red Hood getting glitterbombed.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #tim drake #youtuber Danny #mark rober inspired #Danny is making videos on his engineering projects #which includs sending his toaster to space #bulletproofing his fridge against hotdog revolution #homing forks #spring board closets #and any other crazy thing he could come upf with #Tim liked his videos #but his latest made him worry for the youbers live #Danny decided to Glitterbomb some rogues as well as Luthor and Vlad #probably crackish #feel free to go crazy with this #i am sick and rewatched Mark Rober on YT #blame that for this idea if you will XD

[fushigowo]

𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

╰┈➤ gojo satoru x fem!reader

╰┈➤ synopsis: in your LIT 2000, your classmate, gojo satoru, has his eyes set on the shyest student after telling his theory to getou suguru that the shyest ones are always the horniest. to prove his theory right, satoru finds ways to know whether he’s correct and he’s absolutely sure that he is.

╰┈➤ warnings: fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, teasing, praise, degradation? soft to rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, doggy style, cowgirl, name-calling, size kink, spanking, begging, pleasure dom satoru!! (reader and satoru are in their early 20s)

╰┈➤ a/n: this was supposed to be posted on christmas but i didn’t finish it on time :(( but i hope u all had a gentle holiday!! as a gift, i wrote whatever this is and i got inspiration from this soundgasm audio which is HOT AF!!! also, i did not proofread this. im lazy as fuck

PART I | PART II

Gojo Satoru has his pretty cerulean eyes set on someone, and that someone is none other than you.

You sit at the very front of the classroom, three rows in front of Satoru’s where he can get a clear view of you every time he stares. Not only you’re the smartest and the teacher’s pet, Satoru considers you as the most mysterious student in LIT 2000 despite being with 30 more students because of how quiet you are.

Satoru’s been observing you since the start of the year and the thing that he noticed the most was that you rarely and he means rarely talk to anyone or even participate in class. Whenever you’re called by the professor, you would mumble some I don’t knows and I’m sorrys because you can’t answer the question that was given to you. However, Satoru knew for a fact that you’re just saying those things so you won’t get to speak longer than that. He knew very well that you know the answer to every damn question.

Which is why he is so lucky to have you as a partner for a midterm essay.

As for you, you don’t know what to feel when professor called your name after Gojo Satoru’s.

You don’t really have a problem writing a five-page or more essay with a minimum of three thousand words. The problem is… Gojo Satoru is your partner. It’s not like you don’t like him. It’s just that...

Holy fucking shit. Did she figure out that I have a huge crush on Satoru?! Is that why she paired me up with him? But I made sure not to make it obvious! No, no. This won’t do.

So after class was over, you had a talk with your professor, begging for her to take the midterm essay on your own. The talk didn’t go well as planned.

Since Satoru is having a hard time catching up with LIT 2000, your professor told you to help him by partnering up in this midterm essay. However, that didn’t sit right with you so you protested, saying that there’s a chance that Satoru wouldn’t help writing the paper which would result into you writing the entire thing yourself. But that was just an excuse not to work with Satoru, otherwise you would get all flustered and nervous throughout the week while working on this midterm essay.

“It is not different from doing the entire essay myself,” you scoff.

“I know, but that is also why I partnered him with you,” she says, making you raise an eyebrow. “You can let me know if Satoru didn’t help with anything at all, which is easier for me to fail him.”

“You’re gonna fail him?” you ask.

“Yes. As you can see, Satoru hasn’t been performing well in my class,” she says, “but I figured you can help him since you’re my top performing student. Can I count on you?”

“There are other top performing students in your class though,” you mumble. Sighing in defeat, you agreed to partner up with Satoru. “Professor, did you know that I have a crush on Satoru? Is that another reason why you paired me with him?”

Silence. She knows.

“I genuinely did not know that until now.”

Crap. She doesn’t know. And I told her?! Holy—

“ForgetIsaidanythingprofessorthankyouforyourtimegoodbye.”

With that, you immediately rushed out of her office and slammed the door shut.

The only reason why you wanted to do this midterm essay on your own is because you won't have to deal with Satoru’s presence. Oh, his presence alone would make you so nervous that your smartass brain won’t even function and you would get all flustered, which is really bad because this might hinder your focus on working on the essay. Not only that, but Gojo Satoru does not take things seriously. A complete opposite of you since you take everything related to academics very seriously. But you realized that it won’t hurt to give a little help for Satoru to not fail LIT 2000.

Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru wanders around the halls of the building, in hopes of searching for you so the two of you can start working on the essay. But before that, he had a talk with his best friend, Getou Suguru.

“Yo, Satoru,” Suguru approached the white-haired man with one hand raised up. “I heard your partner for this midterm is that girl. Won’t this be the perfect time to test that theory of yours?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to get into her pants,” Satoru says and a smirk grew on his glossy lips, ”not unless she wants me to.”

After your talk with your literature professor, you had to compose yourself in the rest room and even practiced a script on how you’re going to talk to Satoru. However, you had a realization that this isn’t going to be the only time that you’ll interact with Gojo Satoru since your professor knows that you have a thing for him. You scold yourself for being so nervous around him, despite being a grown ass woman.

But Satoru is… just so pretty. I can’t even look at him straight in the eyes. Also because I’ve touched myself to the thought of him so that would be awkward as fuck.

When you finally got out of the restroom, you heard a loud voice from behind and the minute you heard that voice, you already knew that it would be him. Looking over your shoulder, Satoru in his white long sleeves, black pants, messy yet gorgeous white hair and those round sunglasses. The tall man approached you with a smile on his face while you try not to melt down the ground that you’re standing on.

“I was looking for you,” Satoru says. “I thought we could start working on the essay so we can finish it ahead of the deadline.”

“You—uh, you want to start working now?” you ask, but a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“Yep!” Satoru gives you a smile and a thumbs up, and suddenly, he leans down on your face and brings his lips closer to your ear, making you shiver. “Just between you and me, I think professor is failing me this semester.”

Your eyes widen when he mentioned that.

Could it be that he heard your conversation with your professor earlier? Did he also hear the part where you told her that you have a crush on Satoru? That would make him think that you’re a complete loser in your 20s and in college yet you act like a teenager with a crush. But it’s not your fault that you’ve rejected so many guys because they’re not your standards and it’s definitely not your fault that you reject them because they’re not Satoru.

“Why would you think that?” you ask.

“Mmm? Because I haven’t been performing well in her class.” he grinned.

So he knows.

“Uh, let’s start then,” you say before walking pass him until he asked where you’re going. You look over your shoulder and said, “the library. It’s where I usually do my tasks if not in my apartment.”

“The library is too… quiet. So we’ll work in your apartment instead!”

It’s a library so it would be quiet. And did he just decide that on his own? God, he’s so stupid, I love him.

Your apartment is not far from your university. The reason why you had an apartment for yourself is because you don’t want another person taking up space and you most definitely don’t want to live with another person that you barely even know. And you’re not bothered that you’re living off-campus. It just makes it easier for you to live independently.

When the two of you got in your apartment, Satoru’s cerulean eyes scanned and observed the place. It was neat and everything is organized. But the thing that caught his attention is the stack of books next to the balcony of your apartment. Four stack of books that almost reach Satoru’s waist and he’s a tall guy. He knew that you read a lot since every time he takes glances at you in class, you’re either reading or writing something so he knows that you like reading, but he didn’t expect you to like it that much.

“Sorry, it’s a mess here,” you mumble. “Let’s get started.” You sit down on the wooden floor as you place your laptop on the coffee table adjacent to Satoru who is now sitting on the couch.

“I forgot my laptop.”

You blinked. Twice.

“Sit next to me.” he mumbled.

And that’s what you did despite being flustered at the thought that it’s only you and Satoru inside your apartment. The thought has you squeezing your legs together as you try to listen to Satoru about his ideas regarding the midterm essay. However, your thoughts were making your mind foggy and you couldn’t think straight. It’s awkward that on this very couch, you’ve touched yourself to the thought of Satoru and now, he’s sitting right next to you.

“Hey,” Satoru calls out. “You okay?”

“Mmm, yeah…” you mumble. “Since, uh, since professor asked us to analyze a chosen text from the 20th century regarding its social context, let’s choose a piece first to write about first. Do you have anything in mind?” you ask, trying your best to not make eye contact with him now that he doesn’t have his round sunglasses on.

“I have a few,” he says. “How about The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath? Or No Longer Human by Dazai Osamu? Ah! I know. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.”

“Am I the only one who didn’t cry my eyes out at the end?” you ask.

“What? You did not cry your eyes out at the end?! Are you even human?” Satory’s eyes widen, looking at you with shock while your eyes are locked on your laptop as you type. “I had snot coming out of my nose that soaked the pages of my book when I read that.”

“First of all, that’s disgusting. Second, it was sad, I admit, but I didn’t shed a tear. It was really good though so kudos to you, Mr. Steinbeck.” you chuckle. “Third, I gave it a five stars so you don’t have to attack me.”

Satoru laughs, making you flustered all over again. This is the first time you’ve heard him laugh this close and he’s laughing because of you, and you like it of course. You like that he’s comfortable around you and you like that he’s still himself despite you being awkward around his presence.

“You know, you’re actually fun to be with,” he says. Satoru’s legs are crossed while his elbow is resting on the arm rest and his cheek is on top of his closed palm as he stares at you with his pretty cerulean eyes. “But why can’t you look at me in the eyes?”

You gulped, squeezing your legs together since you can feel him staring daggers at you. Satoru seems to notice your action and a smirk formed on his glossy lips. Satoru moves closer to you, almost like you can feel his hot breath touching the sensitive part of your neck, making you shiver.

“Are you scared of me?” he asks and the only answer you could give him is by shaking your head, telling him that it’s a no. “Hmm? Then why can’t you look at me?”

You didn’t answer.

“Look at me,” he demand.

This time, you feel Satoru’s fingers making its way down your chin, making you face him and look up at him but despite his actions of forcing you to stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, you didn’t protest at all… because you like every single move he’s making on you. Satoru’s other hand glides down your arm, feeling your soft skin that made you shiver because of his warm touch.

When your eyes met his, you couldn’t help but melt on your seat. And it’s not just because Satoru is staring at you.

“There you go,” he chuckles. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now tell me, sweetheart, why are so flustered around me?”

You couldn’t form the words. Of course you can’t. How could you even continue to talk when Gojo motherfucking Satoru is so close to you that his hot breath is almost touching your skin and his hands are caressing your arms and chin, leaving you no choice but stare into his eyes. Not to mention the smirk that he has on his glossy lips.

“T-that’s because I… I—fuck.” you curse under your breath, trying hard to compose yourself and break eye contact.

“Do I make you nervous? Is that why you’re squirming and squeezing your leg so much?” he chuckles.

You bit your lips—hard—trying to wake yourself up and check if you’re having another wet dream about Satoru again. Fortunately, you are fully awake and the person right in front of you is the real Gojo Satoru. Not your fantasy, not your dream, but real. It was hard you to believe that something that you wanted for so long finally came true and you most definitely won’t let this moment go.

“S-Satoru…” you whisper, almost inaudible.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks with a smile on his face. “Is there something you want? Or need?”

He knows what he’s doing. He definitely knows what he’s doing.

“Touch me…” you mumble under your breath. “Just—touch me, please.”

With that, Satoru chuckles before leaning in towards your ears. His hands trailing down, from your chin down to your neck and wraps his slender fingers around the base, but not too tight. Just enough to make you squirm and squeeze your legs even more.

“If the shy girl wants it then who am I to refuse?” he whispers, his hot breath touching your skin that caused the hairs of your body to stand up.

Suddenly, you feel a wet yet hot sensation make contact with your ears, making its way down your jaw while Satoru’s hand tilt your head to the sides to give him more access of licking and kissing your jaw and neck. Your back touched the arm rest behind you as Satoru slowly pushed you down. He held both your thighs, positioning them to open so he can stay in between them as he kisses your neck down your collarbone, leaving bites and marks.

As Satoru devours your neck and collarbone, his hand expertly unbuttons your shirt while the other caresses your thighs, his fingers making circle patterns on your skin. When your buttons are finally undone, Satoru opens your shirt so he can clearly see your body underneath him. He pulls away from you so he can properly enjoy the view then pulls his shirt over his head.

Your half-lidded eyes earlier suddenly widen when you saw the perfect view of Satoru’s body. A body that was almost carved by the gods themselves and that wasn’t even the main attraction that caught your attention. It was the veins running down his crotch and that fucking v-line.

“You like the view from down there, slut?” he chuckles but then he noticed how you whined and squirmed underneath him when he called you slut. “Oh? Did you like being called that?”

You nod. But Satoru doesn’t take that as an answer so his hand made its way down to your neck again but he wasn’t squeezing it too hard.

“Yes,” you say. “I like it, Satoru. Like it when you—ngh—when you call me a slut.”

“Good. Because that’s what you are,” he mumbles as he leans down to your chest, leaving marks and kisses. “Such a shy little slut for me.”

But the white-haired man scoffs because your bra is in the way. He didn’t bother taking it off by clasping it. He just pulled it down to expose your nipples and didn’t waste any time to lick and suck your sensitive bud, making you arch your back. Satoru’s fingers pinch your other nipple while his knee keeps on pushing and adding pressure on your sensitive pussy, still covered with your now-soaked panties.

Satoru continues to feast on you body while you squirm and moan underneath him. When he was finally done with your tits, Satoru’s kisses went even further down until he reached your skirt. Being the impatient asshole he is, he didn’t bother taking them off and just lifts it up, exposing your panties that has a wet area because of your arousal.

A smirk grew on the white-haired man’s lips and didn’t hesitate to touch the wet area using his index and middle finger. He pushes his fingers on your sensitive bud with enough pressure to have you arching your back. Satoru might be an impatient man but of course he would take your panties off to have better access on your soaking pussy.

Realizing that your cunt is now exposed of Gojo motherfucking Satoru, your hand instinctively covered your pussy as if he did not just suck your tits earlier. But seeing your pussy is different. Of course you’d be shy and flustered. He’s Gojo Satoru, for god’s sake. He’s seen more pussy other than yours.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he mumbles. “Take your hands off or I’ll tie them together.”

With that, you slowly took away your hand, letting him see your soaked pussy.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he smiles. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Satoru leans down so he can easily make contact with your cunt. His fingers rub your slit, soaking it with your juices and you couldn’t help but arch your back. A smile grows on his face and suddenly, you can feel him insert a finger inside your cunt, making you whine. His thumb draws circles around your clit that made your thighs quiver until you feel another finger being inserted inside you.

Satoru plunges his fingers in and out of you yet in a slow and sensual pace. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he inserts his digits back. A smirk forms on his glossy lips and plunges his fingers even deeper, deeper than you could reach yourself.

You’ve fingered yourself before but—god, this was so different than what you would usually feel. Is it because his fingers are thicker and longer than yours? Or is it because he’s so fucking good at it?

“Ah! Satoru!” you whine. “R-right there! Right there, please!”

The squelching noise that your pussy and Satoru’s fingers are creating together as well as your wanton moans filled the air of your apartment. You didn’t care how loud you were. You didn’t care if the walls are thin and you didn’t care if your neighbors hear you. You didn’t care about anything else, you just want Satoru to make you cum with his fingers.

Satoru’s pace becomes even more faster, but he figured that it wasn’t enough. Of course it’s not enough. He wasn’t satisfied with just using his fingers.

So he leans down and lolled his tongue out, not even hesitating to lick your sensitive clit, making you jolt and arch your back when you suddenly feel his tongue circling around your clit while his fingers plunge in and out of you. Your legs start to quiver and squirm. The sensation was too much for you that you couldn’t help but close your legs. But Satoru wasn’t done so he grips your legs apart and held the back of your thighs to keep you in place.

This time, Satoru pulls his fingers out and held your thighs in place but his tongue is doing all the work now, licking and sucking your poor overstimulated pussy. Your eyes suddenly widen and your back arched when you feel Satoru insert his tongue inside you, plunging it deeper that his nose is touching your clit.

“Oh, fuck! Satoru! It’s—ngh—too much! I can’t—!”

Your whines and moans continue but Satoru was too busy eating you. But he suddenly pulls away to look at your view. You look so fucked and he didn’t even used his cock yet.

“For someone who’s shy and quiet, you’re being awfully loud for me, sweetheart.” he chuckles before devouring your cunt again.

Satoru can already feel that you’re close. He knows you’re close so he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit and that’s when you completely lost it.

Your legs quiver on Satoru’s grip when you feel your orgasm rip through you. The sensation that Satoru made you feel had you seeing stars, something that you never felt before whenever you touch yourself and this might’ve been the first time that you came this intense. And it felt so fucking good.

Seeing your fucked out state, Satoru chuckles as he watches you catch your breath after that intense orgasm.

“You still with me?” he asks. “I haven’t even used my cock yet!”

“Then use it. Fuck me, Satoru… I want your cock inside me, please.”

“Kiss me first. Come up here and kiss me.” he smiles.

You didn’t hesitate to sit back up and reach for Satoru’s face. Your hand made their way to his cheek while the other caresses his soft white hair. He returns the kiss and inserts his tongue inside your mouth, writhing and swirling against yours. This time, Satoru settles himself next to the arm rest, laying down on the couch while his head rests on the arm rest. Now, you’re on top of him, kissing his glossy lips and grinding your aching pussy on the bulge of his pants.

“Why don’t you do the honors and take my cock out?” Satoru smirks in between your kisses.

And who were you to deny that?

So you unzip Satoru’s pants, bringing it down to reveal the bulge inside his boxers. His cock sprung free when you slid down his boxers, slapping against his lower abdomen. Its size and girth has you gulping because you haven’t seen a cock that big. Sure, you’ve fucked yourself using your dildos but none of your toys compare to Satoru’s cock. A prominent vein runs along the underside of the base of his cock, its pinkish head is releasing pre-cum that drips down to the base.

You didn’t have any idea what you were doing when you had the urge to suck Satoru’s cock. But the white-haired man didn’t have any protests, of course. In fact, his hand is guiding your head to suck on his pulsating cock. After realizing that you didn’t need any guidance, Satoru lets you do your thing.

You let your tongue swirl around the base of his cock and despite it being deep inside your throat, you’re barely even gagging as you take him deeper that your nose is touching his nicely trimmed hair. You continue to suck and lick Satoru’s cock, making him release pretty moans and groans and curses under his breath.

When he felt himself getting close, Satoru couldn’t help but grip your hair and guide your head even though you’re sucking him so well. He just needed something to hold on to and your hair was perfect.

“Ah, fuck! I’m gonna cum. Shit!” he moans until he feels himself release inside your throat. Satoru lets you pull away. Your saliva and some of his cum is leaking down your chin, making him wipe it using his thumb.

“Holy shit. That was so good,” he chuckles. “You sure it’s your first time sucking cock?”

“Uh, well, I-I had some practice,” you say, “with my… toys.”

“Who knew you were such a horny slut?” Satoru didn’t let you answer when he told you to—

“Sit on my cock,” he says. “Sit on my cock and ride me like what you do to your toys. I bet they won’t even compare to mine, huh?”

You gulp before climbing on top of him again. Satoru uses his hand to snake down his head as a pillow while his other hand holds your hips. Positioning yourself on top of him, your hand holds the base of his cock while the other is clinging on the head rest of the couch to support yourself.

You lower yourself down on Satoru’s cock and you couldn’t help but whimper and bite your lips when the tip of his cock finally went inside you. His cock is far more thicker than any of your toys that it has your legs quivering and shaking yet you still continued to lower yourself, taking all of him inside you.

When you stopped, Satoru looks up at you.

“Why’d you stop? You’re not even half way there.”

“What?” you whimper. “Is it t-that big?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “It’s that big.”

Without answering, you continue to lower yourself. Satoru is staring at how your pussy is taking him all in and how you’re struggling to. You’ve done this numerous times on your toys before but riding a real cock—his cock—is far different from that feeling, mainly because Satoru is big.

“It’s so—ah—so deep, Satoru. I don’t think I can—can’t take more.” you whimper.

“But it’s all inside you now,” he smiles. “Ah, fuck. You feel so good.”

To ease the feeling, Satoru lets you cockwarm him while his thumb rub circles on your sensitive clit. When you finally feel at ease and ready to ride him, Satoru places his hand on your hips to keep you in place as you bounce up and down on his cock.

The squelching noises every time his balls meets your skin fills the air of your apartment once again, accompanied by your loud moans and Satoru’s groans.

You can feel the tip of Satoru’s cock hitting the sweet spot of yours that has you clenching around him and every time you look down at the lewd sight below you, you can see a bulge forming on your lower stomach whenever you sink yourself down on Satoru’s cock. Although you seem to be fine riding him and taking all of his cock, you couldn’t look at him straight in the eyes and you even use your hand to cover the lower half of your face since his cerulean eyes are staring right at you.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, slut. You’re riding my cock and yet you still have the nerve to be shy? C’mon, don’t hide yourself,” Satoru grins when he grips both of your hips and lowers you down.

“Ah! Satoru! What are you—ah!”

You couldn’t seem to think straight when he took the initiative to guide you on his cock in a fast and rough pace. Every time he sinks your body down his cock, his hips would thrust up and meet your movement, making the lewd noises even more louder and harder than before.

“Ngh! Fuck, ‘Toru! It’s so deep! So good!”

“Yeah? It’s better than riding those plastic cocks you own, huh?” he chuckles, followed by a moan. “God, you feel so fucking good. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“‘m gonna—gonna cum, Satoru! ‘m so close! So close!”

“Do it. Cum on my cock.”

With that, your orgasm rip through you once more. Your legs quiver on top of Satoru and your chest making rapid up and down motions, letting you catch your breath while you half-lidded eyes try to open despite being fucked out after releasing another intense orgasm, but this time, on Satoru’s cock.

When you decided to get off Satoru’s still hard cock, he tells you to—

“Bend over the couch.”

And who were you to disobey?

Satoru positions your upper body to bend over the arm rest of the couch, placing a hand wrapped around the back of your neck. Wasting no time, Satoru plunges his cock inside of you again, making you let out a muffled whine.

This time, Satoru didn’t let you relax on his cock and continues to pump inside you in a fast pace. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you. His gaze his on the lewd sight of your pussy taking him all in, observing the white ring around his cock.

Who knew he’d be fucking the smartest and shyest girl in his literature class? Who fucking knew that that shy and quiet girl is secretly a horny slut who is begging for him to fuck her harder until she can’t think?

“Oh, fuck! Satoru! Yesyesyes! Fuck me harder, please!”

“Easy.” he mumbles before fucking into you so deep that it reaches your cervix, making you grip the sheets of the couch and whine so loud that you’re sure that everyone in your apartment building heard how you’re being fucked so good.

As Satoru keeps his rough and fast pace consistent, you couldn’t seem to let out coherent words anymore and your eyes are now teary from the pleasure that Satoru is giving you. Your toes are curling and your hands are gripping the sheets as you feel yourself releasing another intense orgasm out of you.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum—gonna cum! ‘m close, Toru! Satoru! Fuck!”

“Yeah, cum on my cock again! Oh, god. Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!

Satoru quickly pulls out of you before he can release. His hand pumps his cock, releasing his cum on your back while your thighs are now soaked with your juices that drips down your legs. The two of you catch your breath but Satoru pulls you in to kiss you.

“You just proved me right, sweetheart,” he mumbles in between your kisses. “Now let’s work on that essay, yeah?” he pulls away and smiles, as if he didn’t just fucked the words and ideas out of you.

© fushigowo | 2022 reblogs are appreciated <3

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader

[churipu]

I love you so so much omg ur posts, ur content, un vibe everything. you’re so so nice and yet you have me crying over every single post because of how good this is. Like yesterday i had a whole debate talking to myself abt how good of a person you were and how the likes were not doing you justice.. usually I never send requests mostly because i’m scared they take a look at it and be like “you cannot be srs”. Idk if it makes sense but oh well😭😭

can i request u make a scenario where the reader is insecure and worried their partner is going to leave them for someone prettier but they dont say anything and just start to distance themselves from them from how big of a toll it was taking on the reader? thank you sm😭🫶🏽

YOU BEING INSECURE + JJK MEN

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen x reader

warning. cursing

note. ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET OMG BRB SOBBING HAVE ABIG FAT KISS, and i love this request so much, you don't have to worry <33 thank you for requesting my love, sorry it took so long :')

GOJO SATORU. even if gojo didn't seem like the type to be aware of his surroundings — he is very much aware. behind those blindfolds and dark glasses, his eyes darts everywhere, making sure everything is fine. even if one small thing is different to his eyes, he'll notice.

so when you began distancing yourself from him, he notices off the bat. but decided to say nothing just to make sure of it, gojo did not want to jump into conclusions. it started off as you telling him that you're busy to go on dates, or even declining his offers when he wanted to come over to your place.

he didn't think much of it until it visibly worsened, you looked miserable. when he sees you, it was like the shine in your eyes have gone away — gojo didn't know what happened, but he automatically assumed that he was behind the disappearance of it. when he asks you if you were okay, you brushed him off with a forced out smile, and he was dying to push you to just tell him everything.

but he didn't. he was afraid that if he'd push you, it would spiral an argument. for a while, he was walking on eggshells around you, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any minute.

it was gnawing internally in gojo's mind, what did he do? what happened to you? what happened to y/n?

his y/n.

so when shoko drops the bomb on him, asking if he had broken up with you. gojo was mortified, is that what it looks like to other people? him and you calling it off? he was terrified, scared, nervous. the strongest sorcerer. yeah — he was scared.

and so he felt like it was a now or never situation.

"y/n, can we talk?"

you grimaced at his soft voice, wondering if this is the part where he's had enough and decided he'd leave you. but you nodded your head, your mind was ready, you were ready to hear it, those words: "i want to break up with you."

"please talk to me. i can't do this whole...you avoiding me, tell me what's bothering you...please." the desperation in his voice was visible, almost as if he was in the verge of tears.

his cerulean eyes were filled with such hopelessness, one you've never seen even when he was fighting a curse. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, "i...i'm sorry, satoru."

that was all you managed to muster up and gojo was clueless, he needed more answers, he needed answers to why you were like this, "baby, i don't... is it me? did i do anything wrong to you? please tell me, don't run away.. let me make it up to you."

it pained you to see that he thinks it was him, when it was you behind this. you shook your head, "'s not you 'ts me."

and that made gojo even more terrified than he already is, a lot of questions spiraling in his mind, did you find someone else? did you get bored of him? were you finally breaking up with him because of his constant bothering? so many questions.

"i just...there're so many more people prettier than i am. i just can't stop thinking about it. you leaving and all. 'm sorry i distanced myself from you." when you said that, gojo felt like half of his questions were all useless and he felt a bit relieved to finally get an answer to his speculations.

gojo wasted no time pulling you into his embrace, he needed it, you needed it. both of you needed it just as much, you felt so small in his embrace, head buried into his chest. gojo didn't move a bit, fearing if he moved at all — you'd break, you looked so fragile and so dainty, it scares him.

"i..love you so much." was all he could say,

"'ts you, 'ts you that i love. it hurts me to hear you talk like that." you felt like shit, you really do — so you said nothing back, you kept your face hidden in his chest.

and gojo didn't pry you away, he just needed to be close to you, "sorry."

that was when he pulled away, "you don't have to be sorry, but please talk to me, 'ts not fair if we're happy together and you have to be sad alone.." you hated crying in front of people, especially gojo, and he knew that about you.

so when you cried in that moment, gojo knew this wasn't something light — he didn't need any more explaining from you, he was just there by your side the whole night. and the next day. the next week. month. year. both of you never spoke of it again.

he's in love with you and nobody could change that, he thinks you're the prettiest anyways.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami's eyes are always on you. nobody else. and everyone knows that.

everyone except for you, unfortunately.

usually he comes home and you were always there to greet him, with a hug and kiss. it was an inseparable combo he made a routine, but for the past couple of days — he hasn't been getting that.

instead, he was greeted with silence. and just from the second time, he knew that something was definitely wrong with you. he'll find you curled up in bed, under the covers like it was the only thing that mattered in the world; but he tries to see it as a sign of exhaustion.

nanami watches your every move, for the past couple of days. you have been out of it. to the point where it was plain obvious and nanami tries asking about it, but you tell him it was just because of the stress. a sweetheart he is, he tries telling you to get some rest from work — he'd even excuse you if it's needed, but you tell him that wasn't needed and that you were fine.

obviously lying. he could see it, smell it, hear it.

it was suffocating. everything was suffocating to you, it's like everything was slowly masticating on every fiber in your body. you wanted to just, drop down and cry but whenever you try to, you just end up sitting on the floor blankly staring at nothing.

it scares yourself sometimes how empty your eyes look.

you wouldn't be surprised if nanami didn't come back home one day because he's so fed up — that's what you've been planting in you. that nanami would leave you for prettier people, for people who don't overthink, people who are generally better than you.

"y/n?"

oh. you didn't even hear him come home, you sat on the bedroom floor trying to push yourself up. and you couldn't even do that, so when nanami opens the bedroom door, seeing you on the floor — he said nothing, not even a hello.

nanami just scoops you into his arms and lays you down on the bed mutely, his slender fingers brushing your hair, "i love you," he murmurs quietly.

that was enough to make tears dwell up at the corner of your eyes, and he said nothing, grazing your tears away, "'m sorry. 'm so sorry, kento."

nanami didn't understand why you were apologizing, he hushed you, cradling you in his embrace as you let your tears free fall, "why are you sorry?"

that's when it struck you, why were you apologizing?

nanami didn't question you any further but he held you close, pressing chaste kisses onto your forehead, "is something in your mind?" you nodded slowly, "do you want to tell me about it?"

you nodded, inhaling sharply, "i just don't feel pretty enough...i feel like you deserve better than me, ken."

nanami laced your fingers with his, kissing your knuckles, "why do you say such things?" you didn't answer him, and it just breaks his heart even more, "you're perfect for me."

his words fall into deaf ears, but you didn't continue saying your worries, you just feel like nanami gets a gist of it. nanami didn't leave your side, cradling you in his arms like you're the most fragile being, "i love you," he kissed your forehead, "so much," and he kisses your lips.

nanami makes sure to spend every second telling you how much he loves you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you're the most perfect for him.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. he hates it when you ignore him without any explanations, he's told you before, "if you have anything to say, say it to my face, don't ignore me."

but this feels like something you couldn't tell him, how you feel. it's obvious that you were distancing yourself from him, when he calls you, you sometimes pretend like you didn't hear him — and when he confronts you later, you tell him that you just didn't hear his calls.

"you're ignoring me, hm?"

"what? no— i just didn't hear you calling out to me."

don't even try to lie to him because he will always confront you about it, he sees right through you and your lies. the second time you try to run away from him when he calls out to you, he wastes no time holding you in place; confronting you right at that moment.

"why're you running away, brat?"

"i...oh, i didn't realize you were here, ryo." sukuna clicks his tongue in mere annoyance — what a bad actor you are, it's so ridiculous sukuna wanted to just burst out into laughter.

"bullshit. why're you avoiding me?"

that was it. you were cornered just like that. sighing, there isn't any way out unless you tell him — sukuna just won't let you go unless you tell him everything behind your recent behaviors.

"just don't feel pretty enough for you," you mutter out, avoiding his sharp gaze, "i feel like you can do much better than me. you deserve better than me."

sukuna gave you nothing but a mere smirk, pushing his lips onto yours. god, he didn't want to admit it — but he hates the way you talk shit about yourself, if he could tell you everything that he loves about you, he would. but he didn't because he's a jackass (and he's too shy to tell you that).

"that's it?" that's it? that's it?

you were about to push him away when he gives you that glare of his, "which person has been making you think like that?"

"no one. me."

he flicks your forehead, "then stop."

if only it was that easy, you grumbled at his response, and said nothing else so you could just leave. but sukuna, despite his ignorant answers always makes sure that you never run away from him anymore, he's a lot more touchy than usual — and he (tries) to compliment you and your appearance.

keyword: tries

he fails at it though. but you gave him kudos for trying, that's all that matters, really. that he makes you feel loved.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #nanami kento #nanami #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami fluff #sukuna fluff

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, male masturbation, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh, angsty ishhhh

taglist: @ghost-lantern @mreowmoreww @maomaimao @ahano

PART TWO. (click here for part one.)

“I think you’re lying to me.”

Miguel glances up at you from the dining table that he’s sitting at, currently eating a bowl of cereal. You’re standing opposite him, buttering a seemingly burnt piece of toast.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re lying to me about not having a valentine’s date.”

Miguel’s eyes move back down to stare at his bowl, spoon mindlessly poking at the cereal but he’s not eating. He pauses for a few seconds, thinking over your words.

“What makes you think that?”

“You?” You point at him with your butter knife. “The Miguel O’Hara, the well-known ladies’ man has not one date tonight? Not a single one out of the countless ladies that he’s been with? Suspicious.”

“Looks like it.” he mumbles. You notice that his tone is dry. Refusing to play along with your teasing.

“See, I don’t believe it. Something’s up, you’re acting…weird.”

It’s ironic you say that. You have no right to judge him on his behavior. After all, you did suck him off on the couch last night. This morning, neither of you had made an attempt to discuss what had happened last night. You acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you, as if you had just gone to bed for an early night.

As for Miguel, it was a whole different story. Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t get any sleep that night. Tossing and turning, his cock aching at the thought of you. Each and every time that he tried to close his eyes, all he could picture was you between his thighs.

It was that look. That look you had in your eye, it was full of hunger and desire. It was a look that proudly told him that all you had wanted to do was to make him feel good.

Reminiscing on this, guilt ran through his bloodstream like poison, questions running through his mind.

Why didn’t he ask you to be his valentine’s sooner? Why didn’t he confess there and then? Why did he have to wait so long to make a move? Do you feel the same as him? Do you feel as if your soul is eating you from the inside out, tempting you to confess how you really feel? If he did confess, would you have canceled all your plans for him? Or would you act like how you’re acting now, pretending that nothing happened?

“I’m not being weird. I’m tired.” He mumbles, still poking at his cereal. In his mind he can already hear the voice of his mother berating him for it.

“Right.” you say, unable to think of anything more to say. Normally, it’s easier than this to start off playful banter between the two of you but you can sense Miguel’s energy was off.

This was almost reminiscent of your earlier days after moving in. How you both exchanged awkwardness and empty conversations that resulted from who's turn it was to take out the trash and the weather forecast.

You figure that perhaps Valentine's Day wasn't the best day for him, assuming that his behavior is the result of something else that happened. You decide to keep your pondering questions to yourself, instead finishing your breakfast in silence. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, seeing multiple posts of friends already waking up to cute valentine gifts and what not.

Audibly, you let out a sigh, wondering if your date – whom you may come across at work– has anything planned for you this morning.

You glance over at Miguel who continues to stare down at his bowl, the obnoxious sound of milk falling off his spoon fills the silence.

Anxiety builds up in your stomach about last night. Was it wrong to ask him to help you? Perhaps he regrets what happened, suddenly wishing he’d never agree to it. Your negative thoughts continue to build up inside you, suddenly taking away your appetite.

You thought last night was…good. Great, even. It had given you confidence for tonight.

if anything was to happen tonight.

Was last night helpful? Most definitely.

Did it spark something in you that you’ve tried to keep buried since the very moment you moved into the apartment? Sure.

Did you want to do it again? Hell yes.

But the question is, does he feel the same?

You take in his demeanor, his low mood and refusal to look up at you. Maybe he hates you so much that he can’t bear to stand you after last night. This brutal assumption was all you needed to get yourself to snap back into reality.

Before disappearing to get changed for work, you take one last glance at Miguel, who continues to ignore you. By the time you step out of your room to leave the apartment for work you find the kitchen empty.

You find a single bowl of cereal on the table that remains unfinished.

/

Exhausted, miguel steps into the apartment. He thinks it’s nearing 6pm by the time he arrives, taking a little longer than usual to return.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him he can hear your voice calling for him; a personal singsong just for him bouncing off the walls. After locking the door, he turns to hang up his coat before bending down to remove his shoes.

By the time he looks up again, you’re suddenly standing in front of him and for a second it feels like his breath is knocked out of his lungs.

And there you were. Stood in front of him with a cheesy smile across your lips, wearing a dress he’s never seen before. You tilt your head to one side, awkwardly fiddling with your hands as Miguel stares you down.

“Do you think it’s a little too much?”

You move your body a little, providing different angles of the dress. Immediately Miguel’s eyes are drawn to the way that your curves hug at the dress. His eyes are latched onto you, unblinking. As he stands in silence your mind turns into panic, taking it as a negative reaction. Maybe it’s not the right dress.

Your disappointment is more than obvious as you start to turn, heading back to your bedroom where a pile of clothes await your return. “You’re right, I think I should–”

“Perfect.”

Finally, the words leave his throat.

If the words ‘Will you be my Valentine?’ won’t fall from his lips then he makes sure that you’re able to hear this at least.

“It’s perfect.” He repeats, a little louder now. His body forces himself to blink now, eyes stinging at the image of you.

“Are you sure?” Your tone is apprehensive, unable to see the positive correlation between his reaction with his words. “Because I think I have a better dress–”

“No.” Miguel swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I like this one, it looks good. Perfect.”

He likes it.

Relief crashes over you, all doubt washed away. His external validation was the only thing you needed.

“Really?”

Miguel’s patience was wearing thin at your disbelief, it took everything in him not to run up to you and mark you as his. It took everything in him not to run his hands all over your body, to ingest every feature, to worship it, to make love to it and provide you everything you had ever wanted.

God, he wanted nothing more but to prove to you that, yes, you looked fucking gorgeous, stunning even. If there was a moment where he wanted to kick himself in the balls for not asking you out sooner, the moment would be now.

“Really. Don’t change.”

He can’t tell whether this final validation was all you needed or whether his tone was finally believable to you but either way he’s satisfied that he has finally gotten through to you as a smile reaches for your lips.

“Thanks mig’. ” you mutter quickly, turning from him as fast as you could to hide the heat that now spread rapidly across your face. You say nothing more, disappearing as quickly as you had appeared, leaving him in a wondrous state.

/

“Think you’ll be okay?”

You don’t look up at him, too busy replying back to a message. He watches as your thumbs move across the small screen at lighting speed. “Yeah, yeah, he’s nearly here.” you mumble quietly. Unfortunately, you’re too preoccupied to notice the look of apprehension on Miguel’s face.

There’s something that gnaws at him completely. From the inside, just begging to be let out. He doesn’t know whether it’s a confession, his jealousy or anger at himself. He assumes that this feeling is a mix of all three.

He can tell that you're nervous, teeth softly biting down on your bottom lip, heels tapping the floor with impatience. If you weren’t holding your phone with two hands, he’d bet that you’d be biting at your nails. It takes everything in him not to grab you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him and take a few deep breaths.

Soon enough, a ding is heard from your phone and he watches how your face lights up. All he can do is stand awkwardly as you tell him your date is here to pick you up. Miguel watches you as you make your way to the door, double checking your purse for anything that you may have forgotten.

A wish of ‘good luck’ dies in Miguel’s throat as you slip through the door, leaving him with nothing more than an echoed goodbye.

The second he hears the door lock behind you, a sigh seems to leave his lips. He can smell the lingering scent of a perfume that he had bought for you as a christmas present, a new favorite that you only wore on special occasions.

Silence now begins to torment him, his mind is jumping to conclusions. What if this one date will lead to a second date and then a third and then a tenth? Until eventually the day comes, when you announce that you’ll be moving out.

He’ll be left on his own, again.

And all that follows are bland text messages from you every now and again, checking up on him as a friend whilst he falls back into the shadows, forever stuck with the label of ‘roommate’.

The deafening silence continues to torture him, thoughts emerging to the idea of your date becoming the love of your life. It's completely stupid and useless to jump to this assumption but he can’t help it. He can’t help but tyrannize himself, his insecurity eating away his insides like vermin.

“Fuckin’ hell, you need to get yourself together.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, making his way over to the couch. He collapses with exhaustion, a groan leaving his body as he does so.

It takes him more than a few minutes to realize that he’s sitting in the same spot as last night. The only difference being is that there’s no pretty girl sitting between his thighs, eyes glowing at him with lust and desire. This single thought is enough to make him hard.

A curse or two is muttered under his breath as an uncontrollable bulge begins to grow in his pants. He really shouldn’t. But he does.

His fingertips run over his crotch as he reminisces about last night: the innocent look on your face, your shock at how big his cock was, your attempt to take him whole, desperately trying to fit him into that pretty little mouth of yours, and by god, it took everything in him not to keep you down there.

But that look, that glow almost dared him to. Your eyes silently expressed that this was all for him. Miguel lets out a groan, finally giving in to his needs, a hand slipping into his pants to free his aching cock from his boxers.

He gives slow, long strokes imitating what you had done yesterday. A quiet whimper leaves his throat, his thumb wiping away at the pre-cum at the crown of his length. He remembers the way his body shudders as you left tantalizing little circles at the tip of his cock, practically torturing him.

His thoughts drastically change from imagining your mouth teasing his cock to how he would tease your dripping cunt. He imagines how soaked you would be for him and wonders whether you were like this yesterday, when you were sucking him off, completely soaked through your panties.

Miguel lets out a groan at the mere thought, his hand now increasing the pace of his strokes. You’d be so tight, he thinks, so tight that your eyes would tear up at your cunt trying to take him whole. His cock would stuff every inch of you, your cunt clenching around him, your little whines persuading him to go deeper, trying to prove that you can take it all.

He wraps a tight fist around himself, pumping himself a little faster now, his breath hitched. His free hand grips at a pillow beside him, imagining that he was taking handfuls of your ass as he buried himself deeper into you. He’d start off slow, let you get adjusted to his size before building up a merciless pace.

Miguel imagines your body writhing beneath him, fingertips scratching at his back as he pleases you. Miguel begins to feel heat in his lower abdomen, his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed as he tries to focus on pornographic images of you in his mind. He imagines your whimpers, babbling to him about how good it feels. That’s all he wanted to do. Make you feel good.

“Please, please, please– fuck, don’t stop.”

Miguel’s thighs begin to tense, hips jerking slightly as he fists his cock. It feels too good to stop. It’s wrong but he can’t stop your name from escaping from his lips. He surrenders to the feelings of pleasure and complete euphoria. He feels the cord in his lower abdomen begin to snap away, desperate pleads echo off the walls as he cums, his seed spilling across his hand and lower abdomen.

Coming down from his climax, the realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave and suddenly he finds himself violently drowning. Drowning in a sea of his thoughts and his mistakes. Cruelly, he reminds himself that he can’t be saved and that he deserves to be alone. After all…

he has no one to blame but himself.

click here for part 3

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader fluff