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ozzgin · 3 months

Note

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

#yet another parody I'm so sorry #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere obsession #obsessive love #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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tinfairies · 2 months

Note

NSFW headcanons for Alastor ?? 😍

NSFW Alastor Headcanons

Alastor x GN!AFAB!Reader

TW: BDSM dynamics

Genuinely attracting his attention is very difficult. He truly could care less about romance and sex, until he meets the right person.

Sometimes a person interests him because they'd be a good toy, but sometimes they interest him because he feels that they could turn him into their toy.

He starts off as a perfect southern gentleman. Sweet talking, charming smiles, subtle flirting.

Hell, he even brings you flowers every Sunday.

It's all a facade to get what he really wants, though.

Power over you.

Al didn't even touch you the first time you were in bed together. The makeout session turned into heavy petting, but before you could even put your hands on his bulge, he stopped you. Al made you strip naked and lay on the bed.

He sat in a chair at the foot of your bed, fully clothed. Alastor instructed you to show him how you usually make yourself cum, then once you had achieved your first orgasm he told you to start again, but to listen to his instructions this time.

He's very vocal about how pretty you are, and how well you're doing for him.

"Such a pretty little thing. All spread out for me. My my, you're dripping wet just from my voice alone?"

After that night, he laid out a set of rules. It was a very formal BDSM contract, the usual safeword set up as well as the rule that you weren't allowed to touch what was his without permission.

Your body was his property.

He treats you well, although sometimes you need punishment. Spankings, orgasm denial and humiliation are among his favorite punishments.

Alastor always sets you up to break a rule just so he can exhibit power over you.

He doesn't even fuck you, let alone let you see him naked until months into the relationship.

Once he does trust you enough to have proper sex with you, you'd swear you saw heaven.

Alastor will overstimulate you until you're crying and begging him to stop. It comes as a shock to him that he's enjoying himself so much. Sex doesn't usually interest him on a physical level.

If you show any interest in dominating him, he might humor you a bit.

It will take a lot of trust to get to that point however.

When you do have that trust, he's putty in your hands. A brat, but putty nonetheless.

He tries to act like he doesn't care that you won't let him touch you, but the longer it goes on the brattier he becomes. If he can't touch you, then he'll force you to touch him.

Introducing him to pegging will heed addictive results. He becomes such a cockslut.

Anal isn't something he ever really experimented with, it never interested him. Then he met you.

Now, he thinks he prefers your strap up his ass more than his cock in your cunt.

#tin smut #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #Smut #hazbin hotel headcanon

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xcherryerim · 1 month

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Double The Fall, Triple The Pleasure

- Billy x Gn!reader x Derek -

“Merrier the more, triple fun that way. Twister on the floor, what do you say?” — 3 by Britney Spears

word count: 3.6k

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18 ONLY

Summary: As you work your shift as a casino host Derek Danforth, the son of the co-owner, decides to begin a round of baccarat with a stranger named Billy. Somehow you end up participating in the game and emerge victorious, causing the two players to owe you financial compensation but, they end up repaying you in another way.

(if you want to go directly to the smut section look for the “✦ “ symbol.)

There are two distinct types of gamblers. The rich make hasty decisions with their money, while the desperate lot implore and pray to the machines and chips, hoping for a miraculous windfall of riches.

As a casino host, your responsibility is to ensure that the patrons become loyal to the establishment; however, as a bystander, when a person who isn’t a part of the one percent plays, it’s impossible to hold back the feeling of regret. While you acknowledge you are fulfilling your obligation, you know it is easy to become engulfed by obsessing gambling, and you don’t wish that on anyone.

However, you do not care if the rich pour their monetary possessions into the abyss, and you maintained that sentiment toward Derek Danforth, the son of one of the casino’s co-owners.

He wasn’t a regular at the establishment and gambled a little, but occasionally brought his friends to indulge in excessive drinking, and smoking while toying with machines. However, now he was by himself, which was unusual.

“Mr. Danforth, it is a pleasure to have you back. Would you like your usual?” you inquired. “Huh?” A confused response erupted from his lips, his body lurching forward with a wobbly movement. The apparent intoxication exhibited by him appeared on the edge of his consciousness as he scanned the area once more.

“Yeah, and I want a table,” he uttered the request, with minimal confusion.

“Certainly. Would the others in your group be joining us this time?”

Derek shook his head, his body appearing unsteady as he did so. “No, just me.”

“Oh, how so?” you questioned, your tone of voice maintaining professionalism as it did during work.

“Just bored,” he responded with a shrug, unbothered by the circumstances, even as you detected a hint of inebriation.

“Oh, indeed, a casino is the ideal way to take away boredom,” you remarked with a feigned professional tone, although the sarcasm in your words was all too obvious.

“Why don’t you join me for a round?” he inquired as he seated himself at the velvety green table, awaiting your response.

“I’m here to ensure everyone’s enjoyment and prevent any illegal behavior,” you replied, concealing your hostility and disdain for a facade of civility.

“I am not a participant, but a spectator, Mr. Danforth,” you concluded, using a firm tone with a mild undertone of mockery.

“You don’t seem to have much enjoyment yourself,” Derek said as he inhaled from the vape he held, the vapor surrounding you before dissipating into the atmosphere.

“I’ve said it once, and I’ll repeat it. Drop that professional speech style. We’re around the same age, so why do you still feel the need to communicate with me like this?” he stated, sounding frustrated with continuing your formal conduct.

“If I speak like I do, I will get fired for unprofessionalism.” You retorted as you prepared the negroni and handed it over to him.

“I won’t allow that to happen,” he replied, taking in a generous sip from the glass before continuing his words. “You’re too hot to lose.”

You felt uncertain about whether to offer a genuine response to his flirtation or simply scoff at it, and you began to silently pray that he would not launch into another lecture about cryptocurrency, which had become an irksome topic of conversation during your prior interactions.

“Thank you, Mr. Danforth. It means a lot.” You spoke, avoiding direct visual contact to avoid any implications or insinuations. While you acknowledge that he is a physically attractive man, the irritation he can induce within you is bigger than your attraction for him, or at least that is what you try to tell yourself.

“I’m assuming a solo round?” You mentioned shifting the subject.

“Not quite...” he replied, his gaze examining the environment until he managed to pinpoint the individual of interest, a man around his same height, adorned with dark-toned hair and a jean jacket, giving an out-of-place demeanor compared to the ambiance of this prestigious gambling establishment, thus providing a vulnerable and susceptible target.

Derek walked with confidence as he had already won the game. “Hello, I’m Derek, Derek Danforth,” he proclaimed, displaying his self-assured attitude and firm grip as he shook hands with the stranger, showcasing his superiority complex.

“Billy, and yeah, I will join you.” The individual stated this with assertiveness, grasping tightly onto his gold necklace, an item he viewed as his lucky charm.

In your inner thoughts, you were fervently hoping that the gentleman with the cowboy-esque appearance would end up victorious and leave the premises swiftly and promptly. You were aware that the significant bets Derek had made in the past were so large that they could obliterate the finances of a person with the speed of light.

“Billy would join me for a game,” Derek proclaimed as he settled into his designated seat.

“Billy, we’re delighted to have you here with us,” you uttered, the corners of your mouth rising into a pitiful smile, yet the individual seemed to have construed your gesture as a sign of flirtatious intent as he provided a subtle wink in response.

A palpable aura of awkwardness permeated the atmosphere between you and Derek, his displeasure at the sight of another man attempting to flirt with you becoming evident despite every attempt to mask his emotions on the matter. Regardless of the discomfort of the situation, it was undeniable that you experienced a certain degree of gratification and joy as you had the attention of both men.

“So, shall we begin?” you spoke, skillfully shuffling the deck with precision, as well as showcasing a few unique tricks you had acquired throughout your time spent working at the casino. You felt their eyes taking in every choreographed performance, their minds filled with various ideas and fantasies of what else someone with such masterful hands might also possess the aptitude for.

As the game began, your eyes were filled with anxiousness as you carefully followed the steps and maneuvers that had taken place in the game of Baccarat. The interior sound of your mind urges Billy to take all the appropriate actions to win, but unfortunately, he falls short in his efforts.

Derek chuckled in mockery. “Maybe next round you can win.”

Billy groaned in annoyance at Derek’s comment, his attention quickly turning towards you. “Why don’t you play with us?” Billy asked.

“I don’t,” you started to say, but Derek interrupted your response by uttering, “Do as I say and play.”

The harsh look delivered by the wealthy individual in question prompted a sense of apprehension and caution within you, but you were compelled to oblige the order.

Despite never playing, you were sure that you had a chance of winning, as you had taken the time to observe numerous matches, making you able to identify and comprehend the various mistakes and errors that tended to occur, as well as what appeared to be successful. However, the extreme bets that Derek was making and Billy’s persistent attempts to one-up them caused you a moderate degree of concern, but you tried to maintain a state of composure.

✦

When the game came to a close, seeing both men so sure of your failure just for you to end up winning at the end was ecstatic. Now you understand why people loved gambling in the first place. Your smirk quickly fades as you let go of the cards as if holding them down would make you more intoxicated with the high these activities had to offer.

Derek grunted, a sound oozing with a subtle tinge of frustration as he pulled out his lousy Gucci wallet. “Is cash fine or a check?” He asked slightly annoyed. Billy, on the other hand, looked at the table, his eyes darting back and forward.

“I don’t; I don’t have that type of money.” He stuttered as he looked at you.

“Mmh,” You leaned closer. “Maybe you could pay in another way.” You teased playfully, indicating your intent to pursue a physical means of compensation.

“And suddenly I have no money either. How sad.” Derek said, hiding his wallet, hoping to provide you with a similar recompense as the one you sought from Billy.

“The expression goes: save a horse, ride a cowboy, not: save a Ferrari, ride a rich man.” You chuckled in response.

“But wouldn’t both be great to ride?” Derek replied, his expression exuding self-assurance as he took a swig from his beverage.

You quickly looked at Billy, who didn’t seem to mind the offer. You, on the other hand, were skeptical, but how many people win a game and have the opportunity to be fucked by two attractive guys?

“Alright!” you exhale, a hint of satisfaction coloring your voice as you reach into your pocket and retrieve the keys entrusted to you by the establishment. With a decisive click, you lock the door to the cleaning supply room behind you, effectively sealing off the space from prying eyes.

When you turned in their direction, you felt their hands roaming against your body. Their fingers traveled the contours of your figure, triggering sensations that surged down the length of your spine, evoking chills and shivers. Billy pulls your head, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual duet. His hands slide beneath your shirt, exploring the warmth of your bare skin, while Derek’s lips trail down your neck, nibbling as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Derek’s hands work swiftly to unfasten the buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your body with every movement. He does this with a sense of urgency as if he cannot get enough of touching you. The sound of fabric rustling fills the air, accompanied by soft moans escaping your lips as their touches become more intimate and bold.

With Billy’s assistance, you manage to wriggle out of your dress pants, your legs quivering with anticipation as they continue to explore every inch of your exposed skin. Derek moves lower, his lips brushing against your belly button before trailing further south, stopping briefly at the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you, seeking permission with his eyes alone. You nod, unable to resist the intense desire that is building within you.

With renewed determination, Derek hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and slides them downward. His eyes widen in surprise at what he sees—you’re dripping and ready for him. Without waiting for confirmation, he leans forward, planting a series of open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. Then, his tongue starts to trace slow circles around your sensitive flesh. His actions send waves of euphoria coursing through your body, making you squirm in delight.

While Derek worships your body, making sure to not leave any part of you without licks and sucks, Billy takes matters into his own hands quite literally. He expertly undoes his belt, wrapping it around your neck and tightening it just enough to heighten your senses without cutting off your airway entirely, adding an edge of danger to this already erotic encounter.

Billy then proceeds to remove his red boxers, revealing his rigid erection pulsating with need. It jumps slightly at the sudden exposure, eager to be touched. He grasps your hand and places it around his twitching cock, guiding your movements as he leans in for a brief, passionate kiss.

“Get your money’s worth,” he whispers against your lips, his smirk widening as he watches you.

With urgency, you begin to tease the head of Billy’s cock with your thumb, tracing its ridges and veins as if mapping out every inch. Your other hand teases Billy’s shaft rhythmically, setting a pace that pleases both of you. The room fills with the sounds of your whimpers and his groans, a testament to the intense fulfillment coursing through your bodies.

At the same time, Derek’s hunger grows as he feasts on the throbbing between your legs, his skilled tongue and lips working together to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. His light whimpers echo throughout the small space, punctuating the air with his insatiable craving.

“You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught,” Derek warns, concerned about someone hearing their explicit activities. With a swift motion, he yanks the belt tied around your neck, causing you to cry out in surprise and pain.

Your breath catches in your throat as the sudden pressure cuts off your oxygen flow. When he releases the hold, you gasp heavily.

“You liked that, huh?” he asks with a sinister smirk, reading your flushed cheeks and labored breathing.

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.” His words carry an underlying threat as if claiming ownership over you. Without waiting for a verbal response, he stands up, towering over you menacingly.

Derek reaches out, grabbing your chin forcefully, tilting your head back so your eyes meet his. “Because you fucking belong to me, remember that.”

Despite the fear and uncertainty swirling within you, there’s also a strange thrill running through you at his possessiveness, causing you to let out a whine.

Your weak sound made Derek smirk in amusement. His teeth were barely visible. Then, he resumes to his past attitude.

“I’m tired of you bitching and moaning.” Derek said, “Get on your knees.” His command is firm, leaving no room for negotiation. You obey without question, kneeling before him and Billy. Their cocks are mere inches from your face, and the lines between reality and fantasy blur even further.

Their presence looms large over you; their virility and masculinity are intoxicating in this dimly lit room. Your mouth waters at the sight of their hardened members, yearning to taste them and to please them in any way possible.

Both men watch you intently, their eyes filled with expectation and fascination. You can practically see the thought process playing out in their minds: who will you serve first? Who will you satisfy last?

With a deep, shaky inhale, you lean forward, your lips brushing softly against the tip of Billy’s erect member. Your tongue darts out to taste the salty droplets of pre-cum glistening on its surface, savoring the flavor while your hand wraps firmly around Derek’s shaft, moving up and down with increasing speed, this motion is both a show of submission and a subtle act of rebellion, aiming to push him closer to the edge.

Derek’s moans increase in volume, his hips bucking involuntarily in response to your aggressive stroke as his eyes roll back. The pain of overstimulation mingles with satisfaction, creating a complex mix of emotions that only adds to the overall experience.

Meanwhile, Billy’s gaze is a mix of awe and hunger, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The contrast between your two lovers couldn’t be more apparent—one nearing orgasm, the other waiting with bated panting for his chance. But Billy isn’t content with waiting; he wants to join in the action too.

Suddenly, he grabs the collar around your neck, tugging it firmly and forcing your mouth wide open to accept his entire length. You struggle to accommodate Billy’s girth, your throat adjusting to the invasion as best it can. Saliva drips from your chin, coating your neck and body as you fight to keep up with his demands.

“You know, for such a professional-looking host, you’re taking it like a fucking slut.”

You want to answer back at Billy’s words but, the sensation of being mouthful by his engorged member is overwhelming, but you refuse to give up. Determined to please both men, you focus on taking him deeper, and your efforts are rewarded by his low growls of approval. Meanwhile, Derek watches with a mix of jealousy and admiration, pulsating in anticipation as your strokes become sloppier on him.

“Touch yourself,” Billy commands. Without hesitation, you use your free left hand to explore your own body, mirroring the sensations he experiences.

Your eyes lock with his, reflecting your admiration for this astounding man standing before you, dominating and directing your every move.

Your fingers caress your sensitive skin, discovering the wetness left by Derek’s earlier attentions. You moan around Billy’s shaft, the sensation intensifying as you stroke yourself in sync with your mouth’s movements.

Billy’s eyes darken with desire, his grip on your ‘collar’ tightening slightly. “That’s it,” he encourages, spurring you on.

“Swallow every fucking drop,” he orders, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Sweat glistens on your brow, and your gasps come in ragged as you redouble your efforts, eager to satisfy him and prove your loyalty while you pleasure yourself and bob your head on Billy’s dick.

Derek watches hungrily, his length pulsating in your hand, as he impatiently awaits his turn. His grip on your hair tightens, demanding your attention. “Please!” he begs, his voice tinted with desperation. “Give it to me!”

Your eyes lock with Derek’s, and with a nod, you move towards him, ready to grant his wish. He quickly guides your mouth towards his member, and you eagerly obey, wrapping your lips around his dick, feeling him twitch in excitement at the first touch of your warm, wet mouth. His scent fills your nostrils, mingling with the musk of sex and sweat, creating an intoxicating blend.

“Fuck, you’re better than I imagined.” Derek cries out.

Billy watches the exchange as he searches for a condom among the scattered clothing on the floor. Once it’s located, he rolls it onto his shaft, preparing himself for what’s to come.

Moving behind you, he gently fingers your entrance, seeking silent consent. You pause momentarily, breaking contact with Derek’s length long enough to respond to Billy with a yes. As soon as your sentence ends, Derek responds by thrusting harder, face-fucking you relentlessly.

Your eyes water and tears stream down your face as his pace increases. In the meantime, Billy positions himself at your entrance. With a single confident thrust, he enters you, filling you up.

As he begins to thrust in and out of you, matching Derek’s pulls on your head, you lose track of time and space. All that exists is the combined sensation of two cocks inside you, stretching and filling you. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, grunts, and moans drowning the room, creating a primal symphony of desire and satisfaction.

Your hands grasp Derek’s thighs, your nails digging into them as your body aches. Sweat trickles down your forehead, staining your face, and you don’t care. Nothing matters but the sense of belonging to these two men.

Derek hisses at the sudden attack from your nails before he speaks. “I know I’m big, but you can take more than that,” Derek growls, forcing more of him into your mouth, attacking your throat mercilessly, while Billy picks up the pace, pounding into you faster and harder.

His thrusts became more erratic, his hips slamming against your ass with reckless abandon. You cry out, your voice hoarse from the constant stimulation, feeling your body tense up, preparing for your orgasm.

Just as you think you can’t handle it anymore, Billy pulls out suddenly, leaving you panting and empty. Before you can recover, he spits on your entrance, lubricating it again. Then, with one swift motion, he re-enters you, filling you up once more. His size stretches you wider than ever, causing you to scream in both agony and gratification.

“I love the sounds you make when I'm destroying you," Billy mumbles as he slaps your ass a few times before he speaks again. “So much better than the last person I was with.”

Derek, sensing your imminent climax, speeds up his pace even more. His thrusts become faster and harder, hitting your uvula. His movements are deliberate, designed to send you spiraling over the edge. Billy, aware of the approaching orgasm, matches Derek’s intensity. Together, they push you to your limits, each thrust bringing you closer to the peak.

The combination of their movements is too much to bear. Your body convulses, shaking uncontrollably as you near the edge. You cry out incoherently, your voice a mix of pleas and curses. Finally, it happens. A wave of pure bliss washes over you, starting from your core and radiating outward. Your muscles clenched around Billy’s cock, which came undone, Derek following right after as you swallowed him entirely.

For a moment, all three of you remain frozen in time, basking in the afterglow of your shared orgasm. Sweat covers your body, mixing with the evidence of your passions and dedication.

Then, Derek proceeds to pick you up, ensuring you’re okay and still able to walk, as Billy quickly goes to dress up again.

“Wanna do aftercare?” Derek asks. This is different; this isn’t the usual Derek you’re accustomed to, but there’s something special about him at this moment.

“I’d love to,” you reply, unable to resist his newfound vulnerability. For a brief moment, you both stare at Billy, unsure whether to include the stranger in this intimate moment. But he speaks up, breaking the silence.

“I’m fine; I need to go anyway.” And with that, Billy abandons the room, leaving the two of you alone together.

Now it’s just the two of you, stripped bare emotionally and physically. You look at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Should you clean up? Talk about what happened. Or simply cuddle and rest in each other’s arms?

“That was weird,” Derek says, slightly confused by Billy’s sudden departure but dismissing it. He’s glad that the two of you are alone now.

“Get dressed up. We’ll go back to my place, and...” As Derek reaches for his pants, they feel unusually light. You exchange a confused glance, picking up your clothes and finding them similarly lacking.

Realization dawns on you both—your wallets are gone. It seems Billy took advantage of the situation to steal from you when you guys thought he was looking for a condom earlier on. You share a look of disbelief.

“Fucking Billy,” you mutter.

Hope you guys liked it, it’s my first time writing this sort of thing but I wanted to write something special for having 100+ followers 🫶🏻 Thank you so much for reading my stuff! (If you only want to see my smut writing consider following my side blog @xxxcherryerim where I reblog my work!)

tags: @freak-accident419 (hand in marriage, NOW /j) @joshhutchersonsgf @joshfutturman @jhutchismyl0verb0y @lile6969 @savvyotakuqueen

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reverieblondie · 7 months

Text

Clumsy Kitty

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Blackcat Fem!!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Blowjob, Slight hair pulling, Teasing, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Summary: You became a thief to help you get over your mundane life. Turns out being a big time thief is not so easy…especially when you have a grumpy spider-man always throwing you off your game, if only there was a way to get back at him.

Part 2

A/N: I really love the idea of a clumsy Black Cat interacting with Miguel. The thought plagues my brain! I hope you all enjoy it! I have a lot more fics in the works so please look out for them!

Word count: 5,637 (edited to the best of my ability, if you have any tips on editing please share with me!)

“You have gotta be kidding me…”

Groaning as you hang from the ceiling you try to break out of the cords you are tangled in. Well, this is embarrassing, Black Cat tangled in cords suspended in the air in one of the many labs in Alchemax. Yep, this is just the cherry on top of your little escapades.

Stealing things and breaking into places became a recent hobby of yours. Tired of your mundane life, you wanted excitement, you wanted the rush of doing something bad, So what do you do? You become a thief of course! Was this the most rational way to solve your boredom? No, but it's not like you were hurting anyone with stealing, you were just scratching that bad girl itch by taking things that didn't belong to you and breaking into places that seemed impossible to enter, you loved the rush and high your actions would give you, it was downright addicting.

Though there's only one thing wrong with your new life of thieving, it turns out you are really, not the best at it. Sure, there were a few times you were able to make it out with the goods you wanted. But you were usually not successful in your adventures in Nueva York, and it was all thanks to one blue and red-clad hero, Spider-man.

Spider-man always seemed to show up and it would cause you to spiral out of control. Whether it was his intimidating figure or that gruff voice, his presence always turned your brain fuzzy and caused your thighs to clench. It couldn't be helped, he was a magnet and you were helpless to his pull.

Your first ever encounter with the hero you would remember forever. It was one of the first high-profile places you had decided to break into. It was a museum that was housing a very famous jewel for an exhibit, and you just knew you needed to get your hands on it. So dawning your iconic catsuit you made your way to the museum. Breaking in and grabbing the jewel seemed to go off without a hitch, however, you must have hit an alarm somewhere because the Public Eye could be heard in the distance.

Scrambling to the roof you stopped dead in your tracks, there he stood. Having seen pictures before you instantly recognized the icon in front of you, a dark cobalt blue suit with glowing red accents. Impossibly broad shoulders, towering height, and muscles that bulged from his suit leaving little to the imagination. Your mind felt like it blue screened, as you stared at him. How did he get here so quickly? Why is he so massive? Is he going to spank you? Wait what? Scratch that!

You two just stood and studied each other for a moment, the tension high, your nerves going haywire being in his presence, you couldn't help the rush of heat dropping to your lower stomach. Does he realize how imposing he is? And why was he turning you on so much? Is it the thrill of stealing or is it just him? Your mind was racing, and he just stared at you. It seemed like he was studying you. Though you couldn't read any expression from that damn mask of his you suddenly had the urge to rip off his face to reveal what you could only assume was a dreamy man. Wait, why are you acting so thirsty? He's here to stop you, not to ravish you! You're a bad girl, he's a good guy, take a mental image of him for a later daydream and get out of here! Then a commanding voice grips you and makes you snap to the present.

“Hand that over, Now!”

The simple demand rolled from his tongue making your brain fuzzy and limbs turning to jelly. The familiar rush of heat dropping to your stomach turning into a coil. The mix in your stomach, a storm of nerves and arousal. Feeling your breath hitch you just stared blankly at the hero.

He just spoke to you! Say something, do something!

Standing dumbfounded for a moment you begin to walk to him slowly. He teased from your approach getting ready to defend himself, however he didn't need to. Before he could even comprehend what was happening you placed the jewel in his hand. Staring at him with stars in your eyes as you just backed away. You tried to speak, but it only came out a subtle whine as you turned to run off. A tilt of his head said it all to show his confusion about your silent surrender, he didn't even chase you down when you escaped, most villains put up a fight and you just gave in to his demand? That was a change of pace.

Getting back home you were pacing around your room kicking yourself. That was so lame! You could have said something! Gave him a fight! Flirted a little! Made an impression! Oh wait you did, as the worst thief ever! Handing over the loot as soon as he demands! What kind of thief does that?

Plopping down on your bed you throw your head into your hands feeling the embarrassment still aching within you. Hopefully, next time if you run into the hero you will handle yourself like a proper theif and not whatever the hell that was!

----

Finally, your second chance has come! And things were going much better than the first encounter. What did you steal this time? Some important-looking technology from some important-looking building, honestly, you didn't think that what you were taking would be all that missed, but here you are getting chased by your new favorite hero. After your first meeting, you had done some research into Spiderman and you came out of it with a bit of a crush. Was it taboo to have a crush on a hero when you were participating in bad behavior? Yes, but he was just too amazing to ignore.

Jumping rooftop to rooftop using your grappling claws to help you swing and climb. It had taken you days of practice to make it look effortless. He on the other hand climbed and swung using his sharp talons and neon red webs that glowed oh so gorgeous in the night, you just assumed that the actions must have always come so easy to him.

“Get back here now cat!”

That same rough voice yelling out towards you just makes you want to purr, maybe your persona was getting to you but you didn't care. You just wanted him to yell and bully you and you were not going to apologize for that. Have you been fantasizing a bit about the spider hero? Yes, but all the fanfiction you had stumbled on and read during your research did not help your case. Some of these writers come up with the tastiest scenarios.

“No can do spidy! you have to catch me first!”

Finally getting the flirty banter down you were turning to give him a cheeky wink, an action you were sure would make his head spin but, devastation accords. Right in the middle of your turn, that you had rehearsed in your mind, you clumsily tripped over your own feet and landed straight to the ground, right in front of Spider-Man. You're supposed to be agile like a cat, not fumbling like a fool!

Spider-man slows his pursuit from a sprint to a jog to a walk then standing above you looking down at you. He studies you for a moment placing his large hands on his tapered waist, you feel like you could cry, you just wish a portal to another dimension would swallow you up but you were not so lucky. He crotches down, not seeing you as a threat at all, scooping up the tech then swings away back to where you stole them. Great, he didn't even speak to you or try to apprehend you after you fell. This is truly the worst moment of your life. You gathered yourself off the floor and sulked away back home, trying to put your pride back together.

----

Now you are hanging from the ceiling in some dingy lab, helplessly tangled. This was not helping your confidence whatsoever. The goal was to steal some stuff to improve your tools and suit, but no, you get tangled in some random cords! Unbelievable, This can't get worse. Then you spot him climbing through the side window and walking towards you, you stand corrected, this did get worse. Can't catch a break with this guy!

Stopping right in front of you, face to face with him you could better see the subtle pixelating glow of his suit and the intoxicating smell of his natural musk.

“What are you doing?” he spoke slight confusion in his serious voice

“Oh you know, hanging around” You chuckle at your cheesy joke but he just remains stoic.

“You're really bad at this” he speaks frankly before quickly popping out his talons and swiftly cutting you free.

You crash to the floor before you quickly spring back up facing him dusting yourself off.

“What do you mean?” you quickly quip back

“I mean you're really bad at the whole stealing thing” he motions his finger in a circle in the air.

“I think I'm just inexperienced, give me a few more chances and you will see” You start following him as he starts moving to leave, forgetting about even sealing anything, you're just excited to have a dialog with him.

“You're lucky I don't throw your clumsy ass in jail.”

“Why don't you then?”

“Because you're not a threat to anyone but yourself” he whips around and pokes his finger out to you. This sudden confession takes you aback for a moment.

“What? I am a threat! Look at these claws!” you pop out your mechanical claws trying to show him how dangerous you are, he turns and looks at your hand unimpressed you assume before sighing and turning away.

Making his way out of the window you clumsily follow behind him. The hero makes his way to the roof of the building, scaling the sides with little effort. It takes you a bit more effort to complete the climb following him. Note to self-practice climbing to build endurance.

Thoughts swirling in your mind, it's odd to be speaking to him so casually, you're a villain, albeit a not-very-good one but you still are one. You two should be fighting or chasing each other. Though you should probably be thankful you are not fighting the guy who was way more skilled and massive. You were not a good fighter, but it was irritating that he didn't even see you as a threat, you could be a threat! Not that you wanted to be but who the hell does he think he is to undermine you to your face?

Reaching the rooftop he stands walking away from you as you fumble behind him trying to catch up. He looks back at you as you try to catch your breath, though you can't see his face you can feel a scowling glare piercing through you.

“Go home kitty, I have more important matters to deal with than play with you”

With that, he shoots his blazing red web in the air and swings away. Fantastic, he sees you as nothing more than just some fool to not take seriously.

Standing there an ache fills your chest, every time he was around you looked like an idiot, clumsy and brain-fuzzed with inappropriate thoughts of things he could do to you but you didn't expect him to undermine you so bluntly. It was a major blow to your bad girl ego.

Clenching your fist into tight balls you feel your frustration hitting its peak. Yelling out to him in desperation you shout to his fading figure.

“You know what spiderman? You better watch out! I might just surprise you!”

----

Okay yes, what you were doing could be classified as stalking, but you were burning to get back at Spider-Man. He had seen you look like a fool three times too many, so it was now time to make him eat his words. But how do you get back at a superhero? Well, your idea is: You find his secret hideaway, steal his stuff and leave him a note telling him how he shouldn’t be so cocky. Who could see you as some clumsy thief after that?

The plan was in full effect: you had found him cleaning up the streets of Nueva York, beating up a gang blue and bloody. Watching him work was pretty thrilling, he moved with such force and skill. He was something to reckon with, for a moment you find yourself thinking you might rethink your plan, but you quickly shake the idea away. Spider-man was going to be knocked down a peg by you, this was definitely going to change how he sees you.

What he had said had stirred something in you that you just couldn't ignore, it was almost like you wanted to impress him. To get his attention and see you more than just some clumsy thief, who knows maybe he would be into it? Good girls like bad boys apparently, do good guys like bad girls? Well, you hope so.

After he finished his fight with the gang he started swinging through the city. You made sure to keep your distance so he wouldn't catch you as you kept a watchful eye out for those iconic glowing webs. After a while, you lost him in the cleaner division of the city. You looked around at the pristine buildings. Most of them were brand new, they were always developing and getting rid of buildings so everything looked unfamiliar to you even though you have lived in Nueva York all your life.

Looking around one building caught your eye, it was tall but wasn't the tallest in the city and didn't seem to have any windows besides some at the very top. There was something about this building that you couldn't shake. Call it a hunch or just natural intuition but you knew this building was hiding something, hopefully, it was hiding Spider-Man's secret hideout. Approaching the building you looked to see if it housed a company of some sort but you didn't see anything. -suspicious.

Needing to find a way inside, you scope out the buildings outside. The only possible opening you saw for yourself was a window and it was quite the climb to reach it. It would be worth it though, if this was really where Spider-Man was hiding, he would for sure be surprised by this sudden intrusion to his private space. The ultimate fantasy was you breaking in stealing some stuff then leaving him a cheeky note, he would be so impressed by your skill he would hunt you down and beg you to join him to fight crime. Then he would make sweet love to you, twisting you and bending around in many positions making you cum over and over again with him.

Squealing in excitement as you climb you almost fall having to adjust your grip. Maybe it would be better if you kept the fantasies at bay for now. The climb felt like it lasted forever, huffing and pushing through your exhaustion, your fantasy driving you to your goal. Popping your head up to look through the window, you are met with your reflection, dammit. Well, time for the tried and true method, breaking and entering!

Unsheathing one of your sharp claws you start cutting through the glass. You struggle to cut a hole large enough for you to crawl through, it's rigged and wavy on the sides, truly unprofessional looking for a thief but whatever. Pushing the glass slightly it doesn't budge. Applying more force and using your body weight you finally get through the glass with a crash. Wincing you hope the sound wasn't too loud to make anyone notice, as you stand, brushing yourself off, you finally look around and are frozen by what you see.

People in costumes all over the place have their eyes glued to you, some wear masks and some do not but there seems to be a theme to all of them, a spider theme. Your brows furrow, a costume party?

It's not until you see some of them swinging from webs and walking on the ceiling does it dawn on you that this isn't a party of normal people.

During your state of confusion, you spot him, your Spider-Man. He’s staring at you, his eye lenses raised in surprise. He seemed to have been talking to people before staring at your sudden intrusion. This wasn't your plan at all, but just go with it! Quickly finding your bearings you point to your Spider-Man face flushed but still determined.

“You have underestimated me Spider-Man! I found your little…Clubhouse?”

As you shout out to him he walks over to you staring intently, eye lenses furrowed. His approach makes your breath shake and speech clutter into a rambling mess.

“I'm…I'm not so clum-clumsy now huh…”

You finally stumble out as he now stands inches from you. Then your breathing stops as the mask that has been hiding his face disappears revealing his crimson eyes, perfectly high cheekbones and full lips. His ravenous hair slicked back, the rich color brown beautifully complemented his tanned skin. Shit, he’s even more gorgeous than in any kind of fantasy you could imagine.

He stares at you for a moment before he quickly grabs your arm and starts dragging you behind him. As you are tugged through you look at the spider people staring at you. Some would avert their gaze from you, while others just stared, you swore you could even hear some snickering and laughing at the scene.

“Poor thing, he's probably going to kill her”

“How did she find us?”

“Looks like Miguel has a pet cat now”

Listening to the muttering of the people your ears perk at the name, Miguel? Looking back up to Spider-Man dragging you along, his name must be Miguel then. You didn’t expect to find out his name and see his face so suddenly. But now you knew more about him, and it was exciting you.

Miguel continues to drag you through the massive building, not meeting your eye of course, you pass by many things in the building looking around in awe as your arm is held in his strong grip, almost certain that you will have bruises tomorrow.

Finally, after the walking and a quiet elevator ride you are in a dark cluttered room, a holo agent appears to welcome Miguel back, but he only responds with a gruff command of Do not disturb.

Releasing his death grip on you he turns to face you once more. His face alone sends butterflies in your stomach no high alert as he looks down at you. Scrunching his face before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath before he starts pacing.

You watch as he paces around for a moment, muttering to himself as you just stare patiently. Your eyes take him in as you watch him move left and right left and right your head swiveling in tandem with his movements. Muscles under his tight suit seeming to get tighter as he paces. It was almost mouth watering.

“Miguel?” You say in a sweet question.

Turning his head to you instinctively from hearing his name, he winces when he realizes that you now know his identity, "What" he barks in your direction.

Trying to come across as unfazed by his annoyance you just chirp a “nothing” to the seething man. His eyes scan you for a moment up and down before returning to his pacing.

You go to say something else but he quickly holds his large hand up to you, effectively causing you to bite your bottom lip to silence yourself. Opening his crimson eyes again he stares at you, this must be the look he always gives you. Furrowed brows, one slightly raised. His full flips in a furrowed pout. Any moment he could either yell at you, grab your throat and slam you into a wall, or grab your face and kiss you passionately. The intensity of his stare has you fidgeting slightly picking at your figures, a bad habit that only occurs when you're nervous.

Full lips opening you hear him breathe out a question to you

“Why are you here gata?”

Skin tingling from his simple question it takes all the nerve you might have still had straight out of you.

“I wanted to surprise…”

“Surprise me? I am surprised actually, it's shocking you didn't break your neck climbing up the building?” he cuts you off irritatedly

“Well, I almost fell a few times…” you nervously laugh.

Staring at you he doesn't laugh at your quip. This was not your plan at all.

“Do you get off on being a shocking pain in my ass?”

Eyes widen at his question, you look to your feet, shit. This isn't how this is supposed to go. Sure you know you're a pain but you just wanted his attention. And yes, that sounds kinda of pathetic but, he is your crush as odd as it is.

Your breaking in and entering places started the rush for you, but getting to interact with Spider-Man made it all the more tantalizing. There is no way you can admit this to him though, especially now. He's irritated enough by you, plus he would most certainly reject you. Snapping his fingers at you causes you to look up at him.

“Tell me Cat”

Moving your eyes away from him, you feel less like a thief and more like an employee getting reprimanded by a supervisor. Miguel leans to meet your eyes. Noting your flushed features and rapid heartbeat, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

The feeling of fingers on your chin snaps you back from your inner spiraling. As you are now forced to look at Miguel, his breath fanning on your face from his proximity those crimson eyes boring into you.

“Are you trying to get my attention, kitty? Because you have it, now what?”

His smooth voice has your body flushing with a warm heat, ruining your panties in the process. Is this happening? Is he flirting? Is he into this? Into you?

“Whatever you want” You speak too quickly, wanting to punch yourself for sounding so desperate.

His thumb brushes against your lips making your knees weak and breathing to spot “Then get on your knees” his smooth voice commands.

Being all to eager you drop to your knees in an instant looking up meeting his red eyes pooling with hunger. He slowly slips his thumb in your mouth feeling your tongue and pressing down to release your drool.

“You know, you're not like others. They are not so eager for my attention,” he says with hooded eyes as you roll your tongue over his digit. You just nod, leaning in to grab his firm thighs running your hands up to palm his stranded cock you can feel as it grows and twitches in his suit.

“Just to warn you, once we start I won't be able to stop”

You just suck on him looking up at him to convey your response.

“Don't say I didn't warn you''

With that, he removes his thumb soaked from your drool, and his suit dissolves away. Watching his tanned skin be revealed to you from the dissolving light. His cock springing out towards your face.

crouching down towards you and grabs the back of your neck pulling you in for a rough kiss. keeping his intense eyes on you as you kiss him back in a fever. Pushing his tongue in your mouth he feels as you eagerly meet him with yours, desperate to taste him. Grabbing and pressing your hands to his solid chest to support yourself, slowly getting drunk from his kiss.

Miguel breaks the kiss standing up from you, pumping his massive cock, almost teasing you with its girth and length, taunting you to take all of him in.

Grasping onto him you feel the silkiness of his cock and the ridge of each vein. The slit of his cock pebbles with glistening precum as you keep pumping him with your hands, licking and tip to take in his tangy taste you are sure to get addicted to.

His large hand drifts to your cheek rubbing his thumb on your face.

“Look at you being a good girl, you ready to take it kitty?”

He takes his cock back into his other hand and slaps his tip to your lips. You instantly parted your lips, eyes completely glazed over in lust for him. He slowly slips his cock through your parted lips. The heat and girth make your mouth water as he pushes inch by inch into your wet walls. Whining at the intrusion in your mouth you use your tongue to rub against the thick bottom of his heavy member, enticing him to push in deeper. His cock twinges at your eager licking and he grabs a fist full of your hair as a warning.

“Breath through your nose” he demands

Before you know it you feel his hips buckling into you more, slipping himself deeper down your throat. Miguel was a big guy so of course he was down your throat causing you to gag and whine on him, he went to pull out to give you relief but you clung to his thighs not allowing him to leave you. Throwing his head back, a moan escapes him from your needy hold.

Lolling his head to the side as he starts to steadily pump his cock into your drooling mouth, he can't remember the last time he's seen such a beautiful sight. Doe eyes glazed over looking up at him, face flushed, tears streaming down from the constant gagging, cheeks sucked in, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth as your saliva drops from your chin to your clothed thighs in that black skin tight suit that he just wants to rip off you. Continuing his rutting into you he just smirks.

Swiftly he shethes himself fully in your mouth down your throat, your nose pressed to his trimmed hairs. Petting your head keeping himself in as you adjust to accommodate him he breathlessly gives you a command.

“Purr for me kitty, I want to feel how much you like it”

Without hesitation start to purr, the vibrations sending him over the edge as he starts thrusting in your eager mouth, bottoming out each time. Feeling you rocking, he looks down to see you rubbing your clothed cunt desperately on your hand.

“So needy gata”

cooing to you, as you just continue your pursuit on your hand, shame and embarrassment hit you for acting so desperate. But the pleasure of the sensation of your fucked throat and pressure on your clit has you rolling your eyes back in bliss. Sure, he can call you needy all he wants, but you don't care as you get close to your high.

Thrust becoming more sloppy and his moans starting to slip out in a consistent hum you know he's approaching his release. Swiping your tongue in a fever around him to bring him closer you tighten your grip on his thighs to continue your grinding. A throbbing of his cock and the quickening of his breath is your warning before he is releasing his thick cum down your throat, that you can't help but swallow down with an urgent fever. Quickly he slips out of you, making you cough at the sudden emptiness of your throat.

Coughing you didn't realize how much you were desperate for air during his throat fucking. Crawling away from him, not to run away but to get a break to catch your breath, you feel a quick swipe on your clothed pussy, then sudden cold air hitting it as all your arousal starts dripping down your puffy folds to the ground under you. You whine at the sudden exposure and before you can turn your head to see what's happening you feel Miguel's large hands on your hips pulling you close to him.

“Don't tell me you're done gata? We haven't even started” he taunts while swiping two of his long fingers around your folds.

Looking back at him you press your cunt to him whining for him to keep touching you, he hums in response.

“Good kitty”

He continues to brush your folds, teasing your swollen clit every so often with a rub or a flick to make sure you were soaked enough to take him. Pushing on your back to lower your chest to the ground keeping your hips raised in the air. He watches as your needy hole grips around nothing begging to be stuffed. Slapping the head of his cock to your slick folds, he makes you whine you jump forward and hum at the abuse.

“Oh? You're a sensitive one huh?”

One last slap echoes through the room with your moaning before slipping into your velvet walls causing your fingers to spread out and grip the floor as he pushes himself in keeping his large hand on your hips. Slowly rolling his hips into you, his massive cock splitting you open deliciously, the stretch making you moan out and arch further into him as he keeps his slow pace pushing himself deeper and deeper.

You're instantly coming undone on him, clamping down on him as you gasp from your release. The tightness causes him to bully into you harder still keeping his torturous slow pace. not even all the way in and your already creaming on his cock.

Your breath is completely knocked from you once he's bottomed out, he places his hand on your lower stomach, and he feels his hard cock bulging through you. He moans at the feeling, pressing harder and rubbing the tip through your soft skin, causing you to cry in pleasure and shudder at his rolling hand.

“Oh, you feel that don't you? Filling up that tight little pussy.” he leans over to your ear “Don't forget to breath kitty cat, I don't want you passing out”

Before you can quip back or ask what he means, he's slipping out of you to the tip then slamming back into you in and out in rapid succession, the air in your lungs getting banged out of you. Leaning over you again, he holds your head up by your chin. His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder and he breathes in your ear.

“Breath kitty, come on”

taking in deep breaths as your told he treats you by fucking you harder, completely rocking your body past what you though was your limits.

“That's my girl”

He continues his pace, sweat rolling down his tense muscles as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. You can't help but feel like he's trying to break you. Grabbing one of your outstretched arms he curls it so you're able to rub your clit.

“Touch yourself, I want to feel you cum on my cock again.” he pants in your ear.

Giving into his demands you rub quick circles on your spent clit, the coil in your stomach being rammed into by Miguel's brutal length. Your pussy starts to grip him harder, making him fuck into you faster than you thought you could even handle.

Knocking all air from you, your lungs are burning. It feels like you're running a marathon, sweat rolling down your body, the heat being trapped in your catsuit. Almost Like he can sense your body overheating Miguel rips your cat suit like it's made of paper. You moan at the sudden cooling of your wet skin. Kissing all over your bare back, Miguel's large hands grab onto your bouncing breast, causing your nipples to suddenly peak from his pinching and tugging.

“Come on kitty, cum for me,” he says breathlessly, gripping harder onto you.

“Miguel…” You start to moan, your cunt clenched around him, the echoing of wet squelching and skin slapping together egging you both on. Before you know it you're squirting on his hard length, screaming in pleasure then quickly in overstimulation as he doesn't let up, only pushing harder and harder. Your third orgasm hits you too fast and leaves you crying out as your brain completely shuts down to a white fog. The pain mixes into unbelievable pleasure.

Finally, you feel your insides heat up. Feeling Miguel's cold sweat dropping onto your back as he finally came again with a loud moan and shuddering of his muscular body. The heat of his hot seed paints your insides white, as his cool sweat drips down on you. The mix of hot and cold has you twitching underneath him as he slows his thrusting to a snail's pace. Your eager pussy milks him of all his hot load.

He finally pulls out of you after he is thoroughly drained. You feel the sticky mix of both your arousal leaking out to your thighs. Rolling to your back you press your fingers to your fucked hole in a vain attempt to keep the warmth in.

Miguel stands up and examines you, he chuckles to himself as he watches you try to keep his seed inside. Scooping you up in his arms he walks you to his office bathroom to clean you up. Exhausted, you rest your head on his warm chest, slowly catching your breath. Sure this wasn't your plan but you have a feeling that you have been successful in surprising him. As he carries you can't help yourself falling asleep in his arms.

----

“Miguel! What is everyone talking about saying you have a pet cat now?”

Peter walks into Miguel's office but promptly freezes when he sees you asleep on a couch wrapped up in a large blanket. Miguel turns from his screens to meet Peter's confused gaze. Miguel looks towards you with affection watching you blissfully sleep.

“Yeah, a stray followed me home. I think I’m going to keep her”

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dragon-ascent · 1 year

Text

Why You Mustn’t Resonate with Other Elements: Exhibit A

You resonate with elements other than Geo and Zhongli is…not too happy about that.

★彡Majorly fluff but heavily implied spice at the end

Zhongli takes pride in the fact that his lover is a traveler. Not just any ordinary traveler, but one who can traverse the many terrains of Teyvat with immense skill and poise. He often enjoys accompanying you on these adventures, and on times he cannot, he eagerly awaits your return, each smile of yours bringing along with it some fabulous treasures that generally cannot be fathomed by regular adventure-seekers.

Above all, though, he holds in high regard the fact that you can seamlessly transition between elements depending on the Statue of the Seven you resonate with, even without a Vision - of course, you’ve been a Geo user ever since marrying Zhongli and settling down with him. At this point, the golden element is practically a part of you, just as your heart and soul is.

This evening, his heart is filled to the brim with love and anticipation, as today is the day you return from a desert expedition in the far western reaches of Sumeru. Normally a patient man, he finds himself ever so slightly giddy with excitement, chancing a look outside the window every minute as the day creeps toward evening. Finally, he sees you, and without a moment’s hesitation he goes outside to give you an affectionate welcome. Beaming, he holds his arms out to you, ready to embrace you as you inevitably barrel into him as your form of hello, when his smile falters just the tiniest smidge.

The gilded sheen that used to adorn your clothing is now a bright green.

You’ve resonated with Dendro.

*****

Obviously, Zhongli doesn’t bring it up right when he welcomes you back. No, he waits until later that night, after you’ve finished telling him stories of the trials, friendships and betrayals you’ve faced, coming out unscathed as usual. He is patient, so he only brings it up after dinner, casually, nonchalantly.

“So, you’ve never told me about the drastic change in yourself in your letters to me,” he starts, watching you from where he stands as you sit on the couch cuddling a cushion.

Tilting your head, you answer, “Is it my hair? Has it gotten a little longer? Maybe I should cut it.”

With a sigh only he can hear, he strides forward and takes your chin gently. “I want to know why you have changed your element.”

You blink. “Oh! Well, I had to deal with some ancient Dendro totems that needed rejuvenating, hehe.” You smile up at him, but he’s still frowning slightly.

“That is all well and good, dearest, but when dealing with other elements, you generally like to switch back to Geo when all is done, yes?”

“Well...” You shrug. “I like Dendro. I think I’ll stick to it!”

A small huff escapes Zhongli’s lips. “Why not Geo?”

You giggle. “Zhongli, are you jealous?”

“I am not.”

“You are!”

“I am most decidedly not.” He turns away from you, the tiniest blush blossoming on his face.

You snicker, getting off the couch and hugging him from behind. “To think Rex Lapis would be jealous...my, I’m really flattered!”

“Hm.”

“This is the best reaction I’ve ever seen in my life! I knew resonating with Dendro was the right idea! You’re such a cutie, Zhong!”

A pause, followed by another sigh. “So, you got what you wanted. I take it you will change back to Geo now?”

You smile and peck his cheek, dancing over to his front view. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Now that you’re standing in front of him, you get a good view of his gleaming amber eyes, swirling with a kind of tempered desire only Zhongli himself would be able to rein in.

And rein he doesn’t, for the very next moment he’s holding you in his arms, a passionate kiss sealing your lips. Your eyes at first widen with surprise, but then flutter closed as you melt into his addictive touch, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer.

“Zhong-ah!” He bites your lower lip and pushes his tongue into your mouth, ravenously questing for that which he desires. As he does so, he pushes you against the wall, caging you in. Your heart pounds with love and lust, giving yourself to his own burning feelings.

But when he pulls away finally, it is evident he’s nowhere near done. As you catch your breath, he bites your neck, his hand roaming down your side and settling at the curve of your hip, squeezing ever so lightly. “It seems I need to give you a reminder.”

“H-huh?” Your mind is a blur of bliss, every bite and kiss of his pulling you deeper into the haze. It is only when his hand glows a bright gold that you are brought back to the surface, albeit only temporarily as you gauge the look on your lover’s face.

Zhongli’s eyes, normally a mellow amber, are now carnally golden, a promise - no, a contract - of what’s to come.

“The versatility of Geo lies in its ability to create the most beautiful constructs.” Saying this, he conjures up…a pair of jade handcuffs, glimmering innocuously in the dusk light. You stare at it, dumbstruck. He quirks an eyebrow, amused by your reaction as he kisses you once more. “Allow me to remind you of this, properly and thoroughly.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #sini writes #zhongli x you #fluff #traveler

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konigsblog · 8 months

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So many cthulhu konig thots !! - ✨

realrealreal :( i'd love to hear yours, here's some of mine 🐙 ...

cthulhu!könig and his addiction to eating you out. usually, he's familiar with the taste of seaweed, fish, anad the dead bodies of sailors and captain's that crossed his path, the sweet taste from your cunt becoming an addiction. begging to eat you out nearly everyday whilst grasping at your ankle with his thick, heavy tentacles, swirling around your body and keeping you spread open for him :(

cthulhu!könig and his exhibition kink :( he wants everyone to know how lucky he is, that his beautiful mortal lets him fuck her with his tentacles and cock!! stretching you out while other sea gods and creatures watch with their dicks hardening. met with a hiss whenever they get too close to his meerjungfrau.

cthulhu!könig and his potent seed and breeding kink!! having sex with him is painful, yet full of desire. the suckers on his tentacles oozing out bitter, murky fluids into your hole, stuffing you full of thick tentacles 'til you're sniffling, cryin' and grasping at his tentacles, whining for him to he gentler :( he can't help himself!!! he really wants to be gentle, yet with his size comes the ruthlessness during sex, filling you with potent liquids whilst you desperately whine for your orgasm.

cthulhu!könig who enjoys getting you addicted to his tentacles. seeing you with an oral fixation does something wild to him. letting you lap at them and hold them, the heavy weight of them while you lick at his suckers, sat on his lap and giving him glossy doe eyes!!! just be careful, he might just force it all down your throat and make you gag on it.

cthulhu!könig and his punishments are harsh, very harsh. his tentacles weigh a ton, slapping them against your ass is bound to bruise it. he can't get enough of those adorable eyes looking up at him so desperately; full of wet tears, glistening in your waterline as you mewl and sob, sniffling and gasping at each smack.

cthulhu!könig uses all his tentacles to keep you pressed up against him, your legs spread whilst he holds you, standing up with a few tentacles underneath your ass, around your waist and neck, and cupping your soft tits :( slamming his veiny, large and meaty dick into your swollen pussy whilst you cum around him multiple times. a fucked-out mess by the time he's had his first orgasm :(((((

...

#cthulhu!könig thots #banner credits to @cafekitsune #orla speaks #konig x reader smut #konig x you #konig x reader #konig #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #könig cod mw2 #cod könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig #könig x reader #cod x reader #modern warefare ii

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pisscreant · 8 months

Text

I think another thing that is hard with writing Harry's alcohol use is that it's very likely that he has cirrhosis (??)

I'm not a doctor but I think that's irreparable liver failure. usually asymptomatic until its later terminal stage, called 'uncompensated cirrhosis'. almost always fatal in a matter of months/years unless someone gets a liver transplant.

I don't think Pain Threshold is wrong. a loved one of mine died like this. to me it seems like with Harry's symptoms a MONTH would be generous. with these signs Harry is ACTIVELY dying.

I struggle to ignore the fact that it's almost outright stated by the narrative. tho to be fair it's just aside dialogue by Kim and during the game you can go on drinking and not die

(also this dialogue is from early in the game and Kim gets better. but great show of priorities, Kim. thanks for that. also 'the organization would miss you' lol. lmao, even. /s)

there's also the matter of alcohol withdrawal. for a game written by addicts (correct me if I'm wrong) who faithfully represent the experience it's also puzzling that Harry seems to exhibit no symptoms of withdrawal. I will update with a source but at some point I remember the devs mentioning that a couple of them prefer the sobriety route. so it's weird that this isn't touched on

now I personally interpret the game as a semi-hopeful one and idk with the tone of the game it doesn't FEEL like Harry's going to canonically die like 2 weeks after the game ends. it could just be a handwave from the writing because this is a video game with video game mechanics and not a medical documentary but.

I personally headcanon that there's something entroponetic that's keeping Harry alive. (the city? pale exposure? a miracle? THE miracle? all of those and more?) that might explain the lack of withdrawal symptoms and. everything else

it might explain why he can CHANGE HIS BIOLOGY and no longer 'benefit' from alcohol or drugs just by completing a mind project (see the thoughts 'Wasteland of Reality' and 'Opioid Receptor Antagonist') also why he can reverse PHYSICAL DAMAGE by using a damn nasal spray and a blister pack of panadeine forte. why he can dance right after taking two bullet wounds.

aaand I forgot the point I was trying to make when I started writing this. just food for thought. I haven't seen anyone else mention this

#disco elysium #harry du bois #anyway please please correct me if I am wrong #I just wanna bring this up and talk about it it's been driving me up the wall #ah. I have once again forgotten to take my ADHD medication

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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so i’ve always been annoyed by the belief that “sam and dean are toxically co-dependent, especially dean!” like it just baffles me once i remember all the times they’ve been apart without one of them being dead (and actually including post swan song to an extent), but i’ve never been able to properly articulate why i think dean at least isn’t really co-dependent on sam. like there’s a difference between being (co)dependent on somebody and dean’s parentification right? thanks!

I'll preface this by saying I am not a medical professional nor have I studied academic literature on codependency in great detail. That said, "codependency" is usually just a buzzword used colloquially to describe people who are obsessed with each other anyway. I address the colloquial use and how Sam is much more unhinged here. I'm guessing the colloquial use is really more what you mean, but if you're looking for something different or a little more specific than that, I can probably write or point you to some other things I've written if you give me something more specific to go on.

That said, there is something about the way fandom talks about "codependency" between Sam and Dean that bothers me, and I think by reading around about codependency today after I got this ask, and finding out that this term is controversial among mental health professionals as well... I finally figured out why.

I think to a lot of people, "codependent" has become synonymous with words like "needy" and "suffocating". However, the WebMD type articles I started with, suggest that the partner of the codependent party is the one whose needs seem to constantly overshadow and outweigh the needs of the codependent partner in the relationship. While the codependent partner can exhibit negative behaviors, the primary problem of the codependent party is that in being a caretaker, they can lose all sense of their identity and boundaries, and don't know who they are outside of being a caretaker for others. However, this is a more modern take on the term. Because these articles I started with mentioned academic controversy, I then found a few academic papers to skim, and this proved to be even more helpful in understanding why I... don't like this term very much.

First, the historical origins of it are... off-putting. The term "codependency" first emerged in academic literature in the 1940s to describe wives with alcoholic husbands who behave as "enablers" [1, 2]. I probably don't have to point out how different things were for women back then, and how rampantly sexist that context makes this first wave of literature sound, but it's discussed extensively in this article. Second, there is more stigma associated with the term partly because Alcoholics Anonymous (shocking /s) latched onto it starting in the 60s and 70s:

The influence of the AA culture in shaping the concept of codependency as an illness offered the idea that people who were close to the substance user were themselves suffering from an illness (O’Briean and Gaborit 1992). These people were viewed as enablers and coalcoholics (Cotton 1979). [ 1 ]

I... think I am probably not the only one who finds that utterly rancid to read (some academics writing on the subject certainly seem to):

According to Gus Napier, a noted family therapist, it is "ridiculous" to label codependency as a disease, because it is a culturally conditioned response of an overfunctioning person in relationship with an underfunctioning person (Meacham, 1990-1991). [2]

Some researchers who have pushed the term "codependency" as a diagnosis have actually suggested that literally anyone who is living with someone with an addiction should be called co-dependent by definition, regardless of any behavior they may exhibit, which tells you a lot about the lack of consensus and how meaningless the term can be [2]. The term (especially within the disease model where codependency itself is a from of addiction) has been criticized by many researchers for the misogyny through which the term originated, for unproductive negative labeling and pathologizing of people (especially women) dealing with incredibly difficult situations with their loved ones, for victim-blaming people (especially women stuck in abusive relationships) for the actions of their partners, for tangentially—negative stereotyping about people with serious addictions, and for conflating addiction with interpersonal problems, and in the extreme case—for suggesting separation from ones family is the solution to addiction and supporting someone with an addiction somehow always enables them [1, 2].

Since the original stream of literature related to addiction, codependency has rebranded and expanded into literature on family experiences with abuse and mental and physical illness. Which is where we get articles like this one I already linked. The codependent party is still a caretaker in these settings, caring for the needs of a loved one who is ill. Still, "codependency" is not an official medical diagnosis (i.e. not in the DSM-5). It's a term that has been used in academic literature by mental health professionals, when trying to describe a range of behaviors within dysfunctional families. These researchers do not agree on the term's meaning or on whether it even is or should be a diagnosis. Many are interested in it only from an interpersonal or personality perspective, which is also where we should stick.

Taking all of this into account though, I think the very first thing we have to ask ourselves is what exactly we get out of using the term "co-dependency" to describe Sam and/or Dean when the term doesn't even really have an agreed-upon meaning. Is the intention to write interesting character analysis, or is the intention to glorify or criticize using a term that has historically stigmatized understandable human reactions to troubled family situations? I think the goal has perhaps too often been the latter.

That said, I've already been referencing it, but I think this article does a good job of summarizing much of the literature, and then actually focusing on people who do choose, of their own accord, to identify with the term "codependent" because it is helpful for them in understanding their own lived experience and their patterns within relationships. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to explore this as it relates to Sam and Dean with the right motivations. If you read the accounts of the respondents who choose to identify with the term, you'll see shades of Sam and Dean I think (I have written something pretty close to the chameleon-self about season 1 Dean, and I can apply that one to Sam too through his attempts to fit in at Stanford). When it comes to my experience with these characters however, I just don't find that I personally see any value in analyzing Sam and Dean through the word "codependent" given it's lack of agreed-upon meaning professionally and colloquially.

It seems to me that the term itself leads to more confusing conversations instead of less confusing ones because of the lack of clear definition, and the potential for negative stereotyping instead of actual edifying analysis is extremely off-putting to me. It just doesn't do anything for me personally. The issues to which it relates I think are interesting (especially parentification which is a term I do find useful), and I think criticisms leveled against the term are also useful to read in understanding ones own struggles with how fandom tends to frame Dean as a caretaker who they believe is actually somehow responsible for everyone else's decisions. But I think that perhaps I prefer words and concepts that are better defined than the muddiness of the term "codependent".

Lastly: Even if I'm not a particular fan of the term, the fact is that the actual show uses the term twice—in season 5 (shoutout to butch--dean's transcript search engine). Once in 5.11 "Sam, Interrupted" (to Dean):

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

First, this dude doesn't really know what's going on and thinks Sam and Dean are having delusions. However, in season 5, Sam's experience with demon blood is repeatedly paralleled with drug or alcohol addiction, and Sam is someone for whom Dean has been made to feel responsible for most of his life. This episode addresses Dean's overly burdensome responsibilities in other ways and it's also come up in the past in 1.12, 2.09, 2.10, and 4.05. I prefer to discuss this theme with much more specific terms. In this case, I would say Dean has an "overactive sense of responsibility to others", originating first with his childhood experiences with parentification. Sam also has a tendency to try and make Dean shoulder responsibility for his decisions when they backfire, and does so multiple times related to the demon blood (4.04, 4.21, 5.05). Cas and Zachariah also both blame Dean for Sam breaking the last seal because he didn't stop him in time (5.01, 5.02) and Bobby criticizes how Dean responds to Sam's addiction (4.22).

And then again in 5.18 "Point of No Return", specifically when Zachariah (my favorite manipulative angel) tries to get Adam to be on his side by basically calling Sam and Dean creepy incestuous weirdos:

ZACHARIAH So you know you can’t trust them, right? You know Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other, right?

This one honestly to me is just Zachariah doing Zachariah things. I'll reach these episodes on my rewatch fairly soon though, so we'll see if I end up talking about it more then.

Bacon, I., McKay, E., Reynolds, F. et al. The Lived Experience of Codependency: an Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis. Int J Ment Health Addiction 18, 754–771 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11469-018-9983-8

Anderson, S. C. (1994). A Critical Analysis of the Concept of Codependency. Social Work, 39(6), 677–685. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23717128

#mail #5.11 #5.18 #parentification #family chains

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writers-potion · 19 days

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i was wondering if you could give some points and tips on writing about a character who is suffering from DRUG ABUSE

Writing A Drug Addict Character

Know Your Drugs

Was the drug invented? A scene using insulin set in 1820 is problematic since this treatment wasn’t discovered until the 1900s. Fentanyl shouldn’t be used in a 1930s scene since it wasn’t available for use until the 1960s—opium or morphine would be more accurate choices.

Was the method invented? Since insulin must be given as a shot, that scene is even less authentic as the hypodermic needle wasn’t invented until the mid-1800s. Older historical fiction could involve the use of poultices and mustard packs, while skin drug patches (transdermal patches) are only appropriate in more modern scenes.

The most common drugs abused by gangs are: Marijuana, Methamphetamine, Heroin, Cocaine

Or, it can be prescription drugs

Although many medications can be abused, the following three classes are most commonly abused:

Opioids—usually prescribed to treat pain;

Central nervous system (CNS) depressants—used to treat anxiety and sleep disorders; and

Stimulants—most often prescribed to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). (common example? caffeine)

Write In Stages

Stage 1: First Use

Some people use a substance for the first time out of curiosity, while others use substances due to peer pressure. People may also be prescribed medication, such as opioids, by their doctor. Individuals may view their first use as a one-time occurrence, but this opens the door for future use. Some people try a substance one time and never use it again.

You character will feel:

Angry and/or desperate

Miserable

Lonely

Trying to run away from a certain problem

Persuaded into doing drug

Guilty

Stage 2: Regular Use

If a person uses a substance and enjoys how it makes them feel or believes it will improve their life, they may start to use the substance regularly. They may use drugs or drink alcohol on the weekends while at parties or hanging out with friends. Occasional use may become a regular occurrence. It might become a part of a person’s routine.

Your character:

Will start getting in careless activities while doing drugs

Will probably be violent

Won’t think he has any issue whatsoever and shrug it off

Start associating themselves with harder drug users

Have a false sense of security that they’re able to quit whenever they want.

Stage 3: Risky Use

The next stage after regular use is risky use. A person will continue to use a substance despite the physical, mental, legal or social consequences. Their use likely started as a way to escape or have fun with peers but has now taken priority over other aspects of their life.

Your Character will feel:

uncomfortable around family members/friends who start to notice

Exhibit more reckless behavior

Driving under influence, stealing money to finance substance use, etc.

Underperforming at work or school

Experience tension in personal relationships

Stage 4: Dependence

The next stage is a physical, mental and emotional reliance on the substance. The individual is no longer using the substance for medical or recreational purposes. When a person doesn’t use the substance, their body will exhibit withdrawal symptoms, such as tremors, headaches, nausea, anxiety and muscle cramps.

Your Chracter Will:

Develop a sort of rountine/typical place where they abuse

Believe that the substance is essential for survival

Use substance even when it's unnecessary

Stage 5: Substance Use Disorder

While some people use dependency and substance use disorder interchangeably, they’re very different. Once a person develops a substance use disorder, substance misuse becomes a compulsion rather than a conscious choice. They’ll also experience severe physical and mental side effects, depending on the substance they’re using.

Your Character:

Has noe developed a chronic disease with the risk of relapse

Is now incapable of quitting on their own

Feel like life is impossible to deal with without the substance.

Lose their job, fail out of school, become isolated from friends and family or give up their passions or hobbies.

Research the Trends

Medical knowledge changes over time and with it the drugs prescribed. This then impacts the type of prescription drugs available on the streets.

late 1800s: chloral hydrate used for anxiety and insomnia > bromides > 1920s: barbiturates, barbital > benzodiazepines ("benzos") > early 2000s: opiod drugs > opiod drug bans led to growth of black markets: ilicit fentanyl > and so on...

Different countries/locations will have varying trends of drug abuse (depending on laws, availability, costs, etc.)

Research the Slag

look for "[drug name] trip report" on YouTube, etc. to get first-hand accounts of how drug addicts behave.

The main focus should always be to use the words your characters would use in ways that suit the world you have created.

The slang for certain drugs is a difficult vocabulary to maintain as it is ever-changing and varies based on country, region, town, even by streets. Some writers use what they know or have heard locally, others invent their own.

Resources

FDA (Food and Drug Administration) and DEA online databases and drug resources

Social networking groups focusing on related specialty writing topics, such as trauma or emergency medicine

Newspaper articles and medical journals are great places to find real cases.

The US national poison center

Helpful Vocab:

Addled - sense of confusion + complete lack of mental awareness

Crazed - emotional anguish experienced by the addict

Desperate

Despondent

Erratic

Fidgety

Hopeless

Impressionable

Struggling

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thegreencooler · 10 months

Text

Amends

I don't usually dip my toe in the drama pool. At least not too deeply. But what's going on in fandom this week, the revelations, were extreme. The people who have come forward... they were in a cult. I am not being overdramatic about this. Gamifying harassment, forcing disconnections like Scientology, needing everyone to observe the same talking points or risk ostracism, leadership using it for money, criminal behavior towards those The Guru has deemed the Out-Group including members who don't conform heavily enough... That's a cult. The internet has made cult behavior REALLY easy. Likes and engagement make you suddenly aware of which direction your circle is leaning. If you agree, YOU TOO GET POINTS. You too will experience that sense of belonging, and that's what it's all about. So if your circle is being outright mean... if you don't want to be cast off as "not one of them"... maybe you say the mean thing too, even if it's a lie, even if you're not really sure why you're saying it. That approval feels SUPER GOOD and is addictive. And your circle amps each other up, gets meaner and meaner. The only people who stay in the in-group are those who don't speak up about the bad behavior and are willing to keep going along with it. Those aren't friendships. It's a pack of hungry carnivores. It's the same behaviors police gangs use on cops who speak up. I do have some sympathy, especially for the younger people who were still forming their identities. They were victims of indoctrination and criminal harassment. That said, they have to own their own behavior. I hope they learn and grow. They're going to have to have some self-reflection on what they've done, the lies told, the hate, the virulent -isms that were expressed, and literal crimes that were performed in the name of fitting in and winning some points with the clique. They're also going to have to reassess who their out-group is, why they even NEED an out-group over fandom things, and if there are still people in their schema who they have an impulse to hate for no reason.... because of a ship or actor preference. They're going to have to question all the lies they were told and if they are still holding onto hate based on that. That's hard if they aren't even sure what the lies were. It's going to be a process for them. We should give people the space and grace to get better. To deprogram themselves. But this does not mean there needs to be automatic forgiveness. Nobody needs to like anyone. But nobody needs to hate anyone either. Maybe the middle ground is we can grow some indifference or the ability to say, "I'm letting it go, this person is in progress, I can't control their journey, the ball is in their court."

If you were behaving badly, you've earned the suspicion of the people you hurt. A few of you are expressing amends, which is wonderful. But part of the thing with making amends is that you don't get to control the outcome. You make a genuine apology for EXACTLY what you've done, you own your part in it, and you don't make excuses... and from there, people may accept what you've said and they may not. They may forgive you immediately, they may take time, they may never forgive you. You have to learn to be good with that. It can be uncomfortable, to feel disliked, ESPECIALLY if the reason you got into the cult was because of that sense of belonging. Your impulse may be to keep giving explanations of how the group influenced you, to distance yourself. You may tell yourself, "I'm not that person, this isn't really me, it was the group." You want to be seen as CHANGED - virginal and new because you made the hard choice to finally leave the cult. ...It isn't that easy. You want the space and grace and you should get that. But guess what? You need to give that to others, too. You need to understand that people have real reasons to distrust you if you were exhibiting cruelty. And part of doing the work to make amends is the actual work. If you're serious about it, it means a lot of difficult self-reflection. You need to take an unflinching look at WHY you could ignore or participate in racism and lord knows plenty of other -isms, why outright defamation and death threats to actors and other fans were okay, why doxing people and trying to get them fired was seen as fair game, why trying to make someone feel hated and terrible about themselves was your impulse, why you were giggling and congratulating yourself for leaning into your worst impulses...until the group turned on you. Because that's the truth of the situation. You now have that self-knowledge of what you're willing to participate in. The question now is what are you going to do with that? I hope it includes therapy and I don't mean that glibly. I think it's possible there are some internet addictions going on where people crave the rush of getting Likes and engagement... and ragefarming is the best way to get engagement. If that's true... it will be EXTREMELY easy to move from the space of performing FOR the cult to performing AGAINST them, so that you can maintain your hit of Likes. And that is just sitting in the same behaviors. But if you're serious about getting better, if you're serious about being honest with yourself, you're going to need to fight against those inclinations. Please ask yourselves if you truly feel your apologies and want to change...or if maybe some part of you is just posting your attempt at amends because you want to fit in with those leaving or because you're craving that approval. Leaving is great! But are you getting the same psychological hit from your posts now? Are you trying to collect a new group that will lovebomb you because you're seeking self-esteem and miss the people who used to give it to you? I'm not saying this in judgment, I'm saying it because many people go from one cult or MLM to another, seeking that same sense of belonging. That's not my wish for you.

To the people on the other side of this... I'm not saying not to speak up if you see people slipping or people whose apologies are revealed as false words. I'm not trying to tone police people getting angry. There have been real reasons to be angry. HOWEVER... please be aware that if we want people to actually learn and grow we need to give them room to do that. There's nothing wrong with a really direct "This is really shitty and unkind behavior." Going scorched earth every time isn't the way. Is it our responsibility to motivate them to change, is it on us? Absolutely not. But are our actions going to unintentionally make them more likely to try and find a gang again because they're feeling defensive? If we also truly want to make things better, we have to ask ourselves what our goal is. Do we just want to give a tongue-lashing because we're angry? We might. And that can be justified sometimes in life. But cornered people don't often make great decisions. If what we want out of this is for people to be less terrible - there are ways to call people in and out, firmly and not sugarcoated, while still not going on the attack.

To the people who finally spoke up, you should be proud of yourselves for that. You took the first step. I hope you keep walking forward.

If you actually read to here... holy crap, I apologize. Many, many words, but I wanted to put them all down somewhere instead of continuing to overthink it at 3:30am. I do want to say... this is just my perspective. If it came off as trying to tell you how to do or feel, or like I think I'm perfect? Nah, kids. I'm a fallible screw-up, too, who is often "cringe," as the children say. We can all work on ourselves. At least that's the hope. If we're open to it.

Anyway. Love y'all, TGC

#supernatural #destiel #cult #spnfamily

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lightsoutletsgo · 1 month

Note

mimi congrats on 500 <3, sending this for your event!!! (1) ship pretty pls :3 i listen to everything? mostly fall out boy, joji and the cure <3 i am a graphic designer. kinda hate dessert but i am addicted to energy drinks HEH. i love traveling to big cities! so very anti beach ❌. i’m lowkey introverted but very very extroverted online 😭 HEDJSIFKS dream date???? museums!!! very very into staying in but not against to going out? i’m very passionate about the things i like? but kinda sensitive to every other thing HEHEHE tysm! congrats again!

awi!! omg omg omg hi sweets!! tysm for sending this in - I'm so excited to do it for youuuu! (I got your other request about the nsfw bit dw) happy reading! mimi 🤍

MAX VERSTAPPEN ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - calls you schat or liefje - has an obsession with your legs. loves having them in his lap when you're cuddling or wrapped around his waist - his love language is physical touch! he's a man of few words so it's small touches like a hand on your back or a quick kiss to your hand that let you know he's there and how he feels - max will do anything for you and he cannot help but spoil you. you barely have to mention something once before he's driving to the store or ordering it online for you. nothing is too big or too small for him to get for you.

max's music taste is... limited? so anytime you're driving anywhere, he's more than happy for you to have aux! he loves discovering new artists through you and with you and anytime you make him a playlist he always listens to it pre-race. of course he has to let everyone know that his amazing love made it for him. to which they usually reply "we know max, we heard the first time." (really they think it's sweet that he's so dopey for you)

he literally supplies you with all the redbull you could ever want! sometimes he 'jokes' that you're only with him for that reason but a quick kiss to his cheek has him blushing and flustered and the thought has left his head. speaking of blushing and flustered, max loves when you play dangerous games with him. sliding your hand higher and higher up his thigh at dinner before sneaking off to the bathroom with him.

max is obsessed with watching you come apart underneath him and he puts as much determination and passion into making you cum for him as he does into his driving. he loves how fucked out you look and he can't get enough of gently holding your throat and telling you to open before spitting, relishing in the way he feels you swallow under his hand. he also can't get enough of watching you in the mirror. bending you over the sink, putting you on your hands and knees on the bed, bending you over against the hallway wall; anywhere there's a mirror, max is sliding into you from behind and whispering filth into your ear as his hips roll into yours.

he loves jetting off to city breaks for the weekend with you when he can; new york, paris, seoul, budapest, prague, tokyo, florence, krakow, chicago, seville, nice; your passport is full of stamps and stickers from your trips with him. you've started a scrapbook together with a postcard and a polaroid of the two of you in every city you've been to!

he loves taking you to various art galleries and museums in the countries and cities you visit and he's become surprisingly good at being an instagram bf and taking aesthetic pictures of you in galleries and exhibits. max loves watching you as you look around, the way your face scrunches when you're focusing, the way your lips move as you read the placards, the way you excitedly tell him all you know or you've read about the exhibit and the way you're moved by the things you see. cosy date nights are a must with him whenever he's home and most nights (whether wild nights out or dinner dates at home) end with you cuddled into his side on the couch and the cats on his lap. it's his ideal evening and he won't tell you yet but he plans on hopefully making it a permanent fixture in his life soon.

max loves your passion for life and your passion and drive for the things you love, even if he doesn't love them in the same way or understand them. he learns so many new things through you and with you. he loves the way that you light up his life and make him feel warm. max swears he could never win another race for his whole career and he'd still get that world champion feeling just by looking into your eyes.

"schat, what do you think about going to paris next weekend?" max asks. you giggle and look at him leaning against the bedroom door frame as you lie on the bed, with jimmy curled up on top of your feet and sassy cuddled into your side, "max!" you point at the still half-unpacked suitcases at the foot of the bed, "we just got back from prague!" he shrugs, seemingly un-phased by your argument, "your point is?" "we can't go away again! what about the cats?"

max sighs and crosses the room to plop down onto the bed next to you, sassy glaring at him as he accidentally shifts her from her cosy spot at your side, you stroke her back absentmindedly as she takes up a new spot on your stomach, "we can ask lando to cat-sit!" you roll your eyes with a smile, max is grinning like a child, "you've already booked the tickets haven't you?" "nooooo..." "max." "maybe..." "baby!" he pouts at you and you can't help the way you laugh, leaning to kiss his cheek, "you're trouble, you know that?" he gently pushes sassy and jimmy out of the way and they almost huff at him before stalking out of the room as he rolls on top of you, pressing a dangerous kiss to your neck, "you love that I'm trouble liefje..."

#mimi's 500 celebration ₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡#mimi.writes #mimi.thirsts #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #awi #omg you need to pick an emojiiiiI!!

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fan-goddess · 7 months

Text

Daring Youth

Pairing: Ettore x reader

Chapter Summary: Ettore suddenly gets hit with the realisation of what It exactly is that he wants. You.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, p in v sex, praise kink, f oral, dacryphilia, exhibition, breeding kink, teasing, fingering, choking, breath play, kinda ooc Ettore. If I missed any let me know!

Other Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five,

Taglist: @chainsawsangel, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @bel-bottoms, @omgbrcat, @targaryenrealnessdarling, @humanpurposes, @mushu-09, @toodlesxcuddles, @pendragora, @sylasthegrim

Authors Note: thank you all for joining on this fucked up Ettore story journey. This’ll be the final canon part of this universe before I announce the one shot non-cannon areas of this universe where you can ask whatever you want about this universe. Hope you enjoy reading this, even though I’m for some reason not a hundred percent satisfied with how it’s written 😅😊

Even as he’s waking up, the tastes of your cunt and your skin won’t leave him. The feel of his skin on yours leaves him constantly hard in his underwear. His cock, now unsatisfied with the usually pleasurable enough human warmth of his hand, practically jerks alive at the mere memory of you last night.

That morning, he couldn’t help but find himself staring at you. Admiring you even. The slightest sight of his mark that he left on you was visible from your shirt and it brought a satisfying feeling to bloom in his chest.

Yet when you lock eyes with him, it’s like there’s nothing there. It was like you just didn’t even see him, and it makes him very annoyed. It makes him really fucking pissed off actually. Where was the person he visited last night? The person who desperately clung to him while he willingly allowed himself to shove his seed in you? The you in front of him, is not the you last night. It’s like your this, fake imposter.

Even as you go past him to deposit your rubbish, you still don’t spare him another glance. He’s forced to watch as you walk away from him, his eyes seething deep into your skin. The thoughts of a punishment that come to mind leaves him smirking in his cups as he innocently sips on some unknown drink given to him.

The thoughts though definitely darken in variety as he looks for you. That small festering thing inside of his head whispering all sorts of ways to make you pay and to make you loyal to him when he can’t find you. His cock straining the more deeper his mind thinks into these fantasies.

When he does find you, purely by accident, his cocks seems to somehow stirs even more at the sight of your oblivious state. Your back turned to him while he quietly enters the small room and shuts the door behind him. Now, you’re locked in here with him.

You say something to him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead, he murmurs illegible things to himself as he gets on his knees and tastes you. The feeling of your juices coating his tongue, and the feeling of your hands gripping his hair so hard it teeters on painful, nearly makes him lose it all there and then.

His hand joins though in the need to truly drink from you, and when he finally feels the wave of your pleasure flood his mouth as you cum, he honestly feels like he could drink straight from your cunt everyday if you let him. It was like the taste of you was akin to some type of addictive alcoholic drink that he honestly could never get enough of.

It’s so addictive. So addictive in game that Ettore can’t help but make sure to clean the rest of your cum from his face and his fingers so that he can truly savour the taste of you. Plus, when he pulls the minimal clothing he wears down to reveal himself to you, his ego swells at the sight of your hooded eyes looking at him all wanting and wanton. Like some common breeding bitch ready for the taking.

When he finally pushes himself inside of you though, he can feel his face scrunching up at the feeling of you sucking him in. It leaves him with that feeling of pure liquid heat running down the length of his spine. Scratch what he said earlier. It seems your entire body is addictive as hell, not just the taste of your cunt.

He practically has to try and muffle the sounds he so desperately wants to cry out as he fucks you harder and harder on the machine. Though soon, he finds his thrusts becoming sluggish and uncoordinated as he chases that feeling of his orgasm that creeps up on him.

As he looks down, it’s the sight of your arousal forming a creamy ring aroung his cock while he fucks you welcomes him, and Ettore has to admit that he has never seen a more arousing sight in his life. It practically begs for him to commit it to memory.

“I’m close” he hears you whine. He only looks up for a moment to admire you, your eyes almost looking as if they’re about to cry from the pleasure whilst your mouth opens in a silent moan.

Yet the sight in front of him is not enough. It’s not more ethereal than the sight of him impaling you over and over again and truly marking you his.

It’s a fleeing though that makes him sober for a minute. A thought that makes him realise he doesn’t want these moments to end. But he pushes them away quickly by laying a hand to the base of your throat and squeezing slightly in an admittedly possessive manner, and another trails to your arousal flooded cunt to draw lazy shapes on your swollen clit.

He wants to last. He wants to savour this feeling of you consuming his entire being whole. But once again he’s distracted from these deep longings. Only this time not by his own choice. This time he’s brought back to life by the feeling of you yanking his head up to your level and sinking your teeth into the flesh of his shoulder. At the sudden extreme combination of pain and pleasure, that is what leaves Ettore moaning out loud at the sensation whilst his cum all of a sudden begins to flood and paint the your warm cunt.

It’s silent those moments after, the mixed breathes of him and you being the only things he can hear, and strangely he strongly hates it. The sensations of everything get to him. The sound of the lightbulb that leaves the whole room in a dim light, the feeling of the supposedly high-tech washing machine that makes him feel like his body is shaking. All of it feels like it’s getting louder and louder in this confined room. But then, Ettore finds himself wrapping his arms around you slightly, and as the warmth of your body consumes him it all seems to go away.

All Ettore can find himself able to focuse on, is the oddly satisfying softness of your skin, and the strangely satisfying feeling of your breath tickling his neck. It mixes with that slight stinging sensation from where you bit him, and it honestly near makes him laugh from fondness. Maybe he’s not the only possessive one in whatever the hell the two of you doing is…

That’s the moment when the softness of it all hits him. Him, of all people, is having his hair played with by a woman he’s just had some fucking amazing consensual sex with. He doesn’t fucking deserve it, he realises, nor do you deserve him…

It’s why he needs to leave you right now.

The realisation making his head feel like it’s going a million miles an hour while he dresses himself quickly and pretty much runs from the room, back to his room where he stays till morning the next day.

It felt strange to try and ignore you like you didn’t exist. During breakfast, he could feel your glares on him like a iron poker, and it’s a sick thrill as he welcomes the attention that you were willing to give him with practically open arms.

He could see the other girls on the ship talking to you, and with your attention taken away he couldn’t help but feel disgustingly wistful as he stared.

Though as you moved to dispose of your tray, his eyes roam greedily at your body your shirt rides up to display some your skin to him. Yet as hes staring he all of a sudden sees the medium sized bruising flesh of your middle body.

What the fuck was that?

He saw it only a few seconds before your arm went back down, and the shirt lifted down like a curtain in the middle of a show. Even still though, Ettore could already feel his blood boiling all over.

The bruise from what he had seen had already darkened to a colour similar to the darkness that loomed outside of the ships windows, and much to his relief, the bruise had no distinguishable shape.

As far as he could tell, it held no resemblance to a hand. Though that fact somehow managed to relieve him and anger him in one turn. Cause Ettore knows he didn’t grip your hips whilst he fucked you. The feeling of your thighs in his hands was imprinted in his memory so well he could replay the moment with his eyes closed, and yet the morning after there’s a substantial bruise there for him to see.

You couldn’t have fucked another guy after he left, could you? He fucking hopes you didn’t. He shares a quarters with two other men that he couldn’t be bothered to know the name of. The other man though, the one that Ettore knows is named Monte. Apparently he has his own private quarters for some fucking reason.

Though as he thinks about it, Ettore doesn’t know where Monte had been that night. Monte had the opportunity to touch you, and it really fucking annoys him. So much that he’s at the point where he’s debating on chasing you down to find out how the bruise happened.

He’d originally planned on leaving it till later. He wanted to calm down before he ruined everything, but then he saw the fleeting look you gave him. As you left, you looked behind and locked eyes with him, before rubbing the bruise and leaving. That… that is what set him off entirely.

It’s what made him leave his half eaten food at the table before storming after you. Whilst his eyes were dead set on your retreating figure, he could see the eyes of the women looking at him while they whispered.

Let them talk… he thought. Let them know it is you who belongs to only him and no one else. It’s a one off thought, but he hopes Monte sees him going after you too. Maybe he’ll get it in his thick head to not be such an interfering cockblock…

You turn around and look at him when you pause at the end of some corridor, probably heard his thundering footsteps. Your eyes turn hard with what Ettore thinks is hatred, and yet when they see his own eyes fuelled by hatred and anger, something else bubbles within them. Lust.

“Who the fuck left you that mark?” He snarls as he gets close enough to you. His fingers curl against the shirt to reveal your bruise, and he holds the offending fabric in his hand as if he wanted to tear it straight from your body.

“What are you talking about Ettore? Nobody gave me-“

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” The anger and rage that Ettore feels blinds him for a mere moment, and yet that is enough time for him to grab you by the waist and slam you against the wall behind you, no doubt disorienting you for a few seconds. Though if he felt any kind of regret from what he just did, then it must have been smothered by his rage.

His hand winds itself in your hair, and he makes sure to grip it so you can’t get away. The need to know overpowering any sense of his current humanity, if he ever had any in the first place.

Though when he locks eyes with yours, and he sees the tears that have begun to form from the sudden pain, he can’t help but feel his heart clenching at the sight. Though the thought is quickly pushed from his mind as he distracts himself from it by smashing his lips onto yours for the first time ever.

It’s rough and if he’s honest to himself it’s also down right feral. The way his teeth carelessly knock into your own, and how they sink into his lips, causing a deep groan echo through the empty halls.

Each of the two of yours hands are greedy on each other’s bodies, with no flesh being left untouched.

When Ettore detaches himself from your lips though to sink his teeth into the unclaimed side of your neck, whilst he simultaneously pushing deep into the bruise on your hip you so dutifully denied, the sound of your pain practically makes him shiver in delight all through his spine.

He can’t deny that he gets the urge to claim you in this very hallway. To make your moans and sounds of pleasure echo so loud that people like the woman who tried to help you, or even fucking Monte of all people, knows that you belong to him, and will always belong to him. But when he looks into your tear soaked eyes, his heart and his cock seem to ache in sync, which knocks all sense of coherence out the ships doors practically immediately.

His hand grasp around your wrists as he leads you to his room. The two men he shares with are always complaining about how long and hard their chores given to them are, but it’s practically near the start of the day.

Everyone will be too busy with their assignments to walk down the hall to hear the two of you…

As soon as they pass the door frame, Ettore can’t resist himself any more from claiming your lips again. And whilst the taste of your mouth currently drives him insane, there’s another taste he wishes to have smeared across his tongue aswell that’ll no doubt make him fucking feral.

His hands move to rip and tear at your clothing, so fast that practically no time has passed before he’s got you laid bare for him on his bed. Your legs already widening themselves to reveal your already dripping cunt to him.

“Desperate slut…” He murmurs with a smirk as his fingers trace over your inner thigh and ghosts over where you obviously desire him most.

He wants you to beg for him though. Some dark thing thats has taken root inside of him wants you to beg for him to touch you. To know that you want him to defile your body just as much as he wants to.

So after he’s teased your entrance with the ghost of his breath and the pad of his thumb a couple times, he’s very glad to hear the stumblings of pathetic sounding begs practically pouring from your swollen lips like a singing canary.

“Good girl.” He mutters, before quickly moving close to your cunt and sucking on your clit whilst he shoves his fingers as deep as he can inside of you to find the spot that makes women see stars. When his fingers do catch on that tough patch inside of you, judging by your sudden reactions he knows he’s found it.

The grip you had on his hair tightens as you keep him practically immobile between your thighs, and the moans and whines that sound from you seem to almost go up a pitch.

The time he spends between your though feels shorter than he’d like. As the next thing he knows he’s feeling as though he’s practically suffocating in your warmth as your cum dribbles into his open and willing mouth.

Ettore almost wishes he could spend more time licking the remnants of your juices that have leaked from your body. But the ache in his shorts reminds him of what he wants to do. No. What he needs to do.

So he does it.

Ettore pushes down his black shorts to reveal his aching cock, and lines himself up with your dripping entrance. It’s a glorious sight alright, but it’ll get a whole lot better once he’s stuffing his cock in you.

“Please…” He hears you murmur. “Please Ettore… Please fuck me…” and who is he to deny you? With a satisfied smirk, Ettore pushes his cock as deep as he can with a light groan, and relishes in the light pain the length of your nails gives him as you grip him.

Ettore has never had a woman whose been willing to fuck him before. Yet the feeling of your clenching cunt and the sounds of your willing body submitting to him is easily better than anything he’s ever felt in his whole life.

When he looks down to admire you, he can see you biting on your swollen red lips, and can’t resist himself from practically caging you with his body to kiss you again.

The sounds of your muffled moans echoes enough so if anyone was walking down the corridor, they would most definitely hear you. When he releases you and pulls away to look at you, a sick thrill runs down the length of his spine when he sees a small trail of saliva connecting his mouth to yours.

“Move…” You whimper. The dewy eyes that stare at him make him want to practically tear you apart from the inside out.

“What’s the magic word now brat?”

“Please…”

“Good girl” It was all he needed to hear before he began thrusting inside your wet heat like a mad man. Iron hot pleasure running down the length of his spine driving him insane with want and desire. The want to claim you. The desire to give you a much more permanent version of a claiming. A child who has your same dewey eyes.

Mindless moans release from both parties as the desire for release is chased. Ettore though finds himself chasing the feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back as he thrusts into you harshly and without mercy. It felt as though he wanted to merge with you and become one.

A hand of Ettores finds itself wrapped around the length of your neck, and the feeling of satisfaction is immense as your nails dig into his skin deeper. If Ettore focused on what you were doing, he’d no doubt practically feel the scars of raised red skin already forming.

Another hand trails to your clit where he begins to repeat harsh circles. And when Ettore looks down to admire the sight, he has to refrain himself from cumming there and then when he sees the light white ring of your fluids on his cock as he thrusts deeper and deeper.

“You want to be my good slut huh? Then cum on my fucking cock and maybe I’ll give you my own cum to fill you until your fucking dripping of me…”

Your hips buck up to meet his thrusts as you seem moan in excitement, and your eyes almost seem to have glazed over in some kind of pleasure induced haze. In Ettores eyes, it was all he needed to hear and see before he ruined you for good.

His movements got rougher as his hips smacked into your own. The grip Ettore has on your neck tightens only by a little to make you almost breathless for him. When he looks up for a split second at the doorway, a fleeting thought hits where he almost wishes to meet the eyes of someone watching him defile you. The feeling of his cock aching at the thought drawing him back to the truly gorgeous sight in front of him.

“Fuck Ettore s-so good…” You moan. It’s practically said with a slur on your lips and he can’t help but love it. His little cock slut all cock drunk on his dick. How it’s meant to be.

Though whilst he’s admiring the sight, you seem to have tightened up on him too. Your grip leaves no doubt bloodied indents on his back that were sure to leave questions for the other passengers that for your sake only will remain unanswered.

Your eyes are screwed shut so tightly that small lines of tears trail down your cheeks, and the only way he knows that is due to the fact they seem to shine under the harsh light. Your legs aswell feel as though they’re practically vibrating against his skin, possibly due to all the sensational that he’s giving you all at once.

It’s not surprising for either of them that after all that, Ettore finds himself moaning out loud at the feeling of your walls clenching and pulling him in as you cum, effectively pushing him over the edge aswell with a deep groan.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck oh shiiiiit” You whine. It’s so loud he almost wants to shove a pillow over your head to get you to shut the fuck up. But then it’d ruin the whole thing and he can’t have that at all.

When you’ve recovered though from your high, you almost seem to curl up on him. He’s still inside you, even though he’s softened down by now, yet even so he’s happy about it as now his cum won’t be able to effectively leak out of you.

It’s a strange feeling when his arms move to keep you close. Like an overprotective hug. Yet it’s so awkward Ettore doesn’t know what to do and let’s you take the lead. You push him so he’s laying on his back, an act he feels he should punish later on, and move your head to rest between his neck and his chest.

Ettore hates to admit it, but it’s very strangely comforting to have you so close so willingly.

His hand rests on the top of your head, and a single thumb brushed the loose hair away from your face. It’s oddly domestic, and yet he can’t help but find himself unable to hate himself for it right now.

The two of you continue to lay there. Your breaths evening out as you seem drift off, and they leave goosebumps on his skin in their wake.

Ettore however, stays wide awake. The erratic heartbeats that radiate through his whole body make it impossibly to sweetly savour the moment in peace.

Only a single stray thought managed to remain inside him that kept him from pushing you off and running to who knows where.

I think I may somehow be in love with you…

#Ettore #Ettore x reader #high life #high life fanfiction #high life fanfic #ettore smut #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfic #ewan mitchell character #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #my works #ten things i hate about you #ten things i hate about you!au #ttihay

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thatgirl4815 · 7 months

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One thing that strikes me about Ray/Sand vs Ray/Mew is that for the life of me I just can't picture the Ray who jumps on Sand and sticks his smelly pits in his face, the Ray who is cheeky and playful and a bit goofy, doing those things or acting that way with Mew. And I don't even mean within the context of any romantic relationship - I find it really hard to imagine their friendship having any such similar moments, where they're just two boys being a bit daft. With Sand Ray can be flirty, sensual, fierce, but he can also be silly, petulant, carefree (whilst sober). I just can't see him exhibiting that duality in his relationship with Mew. In their scenes previous to The Dance of Doom, he's usually been quite serious, heavy, earnest - weighed down, whether by Mew's expectations or his own feelings I don't know (likely both). He just seems so much lighter when he's with Sand (and they're apart from everyone else). I'm not saying it's Mew's fault - maybe it's a result of the pedestal he occupies in Ray's mind, but I just thought it was interesting. Ray often seems like an entirely different person when he's with Sand. And I think that's why those of us rooting for a (healthy) endgame are so invested, because in those interactions we see the person Ray COULD be, and it's pretty clear it's Sand that brings out that potential. Again, not saying he doesn't also require a shitload of soul-searching and professional help, but how could you NOT want him to reach that potential? And I'm almost certain the showrunners would agree. Now that doesn't necessarily mean the only way to get there is a Sand/Ray happy ending or that Sand owes it to Ray to put up with his bullshit in the meantime, but I think Sand wants that for Ray too and I don't think that makes him pathetic. I think Sand is pretty good at spotting when Ray's behaviour is that of someone in crisis vs being a brat/careless. It's probably why he requires an apology for Ray dropping him at the end of ep 3 but not for the insults at the end of ep 6 (well that and the whole near death experience!). No, Sand is under no obligation to keep loving/caring for Ray at his worst, but if he CHOOSES to do so because he's seen him at his best and because he knows the pain that lies beneath it all, well then actually that's something quite remarkable. Not romantic, mind you - remarkable. I'm not romanticising anything. But to me that shows a strength of character and a depth of compassion that's worthy of respect.

Great observations! I also can't really see a teasing, light-hearted RayMew relationship (at least, not when they're both sober), mostly because we haven't seen that dynamic much at all between them as friends. The thing that makes friends-to-lovers plots so successful is the chemistry between friends conjoined with romantic chemistry. And I don't get much of either of those between them (possibly because the vast majority of scenes between Ray and Mew only are about Ray's alcohol/drug problems).

A lot of this goes back to what you said about Ray putting Mew on a pedestal. It's always felt like Mew is in a superior position while Ray is only pining after him. With Ray and Sand, we see Sand acknowledge the dangers of Ray's behavior, but it never comes across as domineering or self-righteous (reminds me of @bird-inacage's analysis here about how Sand and Mew react differently to Ray's addictions).

I definitely think Ray is a better version of himself with Sand. He's noticeably less drunk around him, he opens up about his past, he apologizes and speaks relatively openly about his feelings, he makes an effort to invest in Sand's interests...the list goes on. Those are all signs of a healthy relationship built on mutual interests. For Ray and Mew, I think it's fair to say there are other motivations beyond romantic feelings.

I also admire Sand's depth of compassion. As you said, he is under no obligation to keep coming back to Ray and caring for him the way he does, but the fact that he is doing that despite knowing that he deserves better says a lot about his values. When he cares for someone, he cares for them deeply, despite the pain they might inflict upon him. For someone like Sand who seems so headstrong in other areas of his life, there's something endearing about how soft he is for Ray.

#great thoughts I agree with every one of them #only friends #only friends the series #ask #only friends ask #raysand #sandray #raysan #sand x ray #ray x sand #raymew #only friends meta #only friends analysis #only friends episode 7 #ofts

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imgeekgirlfan · 1 year

Text

el paraiso de las pandillas.

Pairings: Pacho Herrera(Narcos : TV Series)x f!reader

Warnings: Guns,Blood(a lot of blood)

Synopsis: Y/N are an ordinary woman who has lived a peaceful life in Colombia for two years, until one day a man appeared at your door covered in blood.

AN: I'm not a native English and I'm not good at English, but I hope you can understand what I'm writing. enjoy <3

Next Chapter

Part One :

Throughout her life, she had never made a mistake, not even once, until today.

Amid the debris and wreckage inside the restaurant that surrounded her, hot smoke from gunfire and the smell of death filled the air. She gasped for air, feeling more adrenaline than she had ever experienced before. She placed the gun in her hand forcefully onto the ground with a loud clatter. She raised her hands to cup her own face, realizing the enormity of the mistake she had just made.

How can it go wrong? She wondered.

In that moment, the young woman lifted her head and caught the gaze of another person standing not far away. A tall, well-dressed man from a famous brand who usually looked luxurious and handsome every time she saw him, except this time, his condition wasn't much different from hers. He was staring at her with wide-open eyes, but what emotion was it? Surprise? Shock? Or impressed? It was hard to tell.

In that moment, She understood deeply,

Pacho Herrera that hijo de puta, was her mistake in life.

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Whenever someone here knows that you come from the United States, they always start with the same question: "Why did you move to Colombia?"

And your answer is always the same: "Because I can do so many good things here that I can't do in America."

Your story is simple, just a backpacking girl from the free world who accidentally fell in love with the beauty hidden in this country and decided to settle here. in a small, cheap rented house near the city, and support yourself by working as a high school teacher and volunteering as a community health worker every Saturday and Sunday.

Life during the two years in Colombia was mostly simple and peaceful. The only serious problem you encountered was dealing with underprivileged children in the classroom. There were those who were accustomed to bullying as a routine, girls who worked as prostitutes as a side job, and kid who sold drugs for money. This made it physically and emotionally challenging for you to be a good teacher to these kids.

You visiting the students homes to talk directly with their parents about the issues that arose. You found that, in general, each student was not inherently bad, but due to the societal circumstances of poverty, family institutions, and the country's chronic drug addiction problem, they had no other choice but to fall into such unfortunate circumstances.

Because you grew up in a relatively difficult family, burdened with deep-seated emotional scars, you was determined to provide your students with a better education and a brighter future, far from the troubles you had experienced. You genuine efforts paid off when your students accepted you as both a teacher and a close friend, and began to exhibit better behavior than before, which surprised everyone with the changes that the American girl had brought here.

Your good attitude, as a teacher and nurse who dedicated to helping the less fortunate, was accompanied by a striking appearance with fair skin and bright blonde hair that made you stand out from the locals. Soon, everything about you, including you looks and reputation, became well-known to everyone in the community.

That was what had happened to your life in the past two years, before everything was turned upside down when you entering the third year

And this story began with the sound of a gun.

It all started when you met him, on the day of the first gunshot that rang out in front of your own house.

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Neighborhoods with affordable housing often come with problems. Despite this, it's the only place where you can afford to live, even if you have to deal with unreliable neighbors and noisy drunks every weekend. But everything changes when gunshots ring out on a Saturday evening. The loud noise makes your heart almost stop, and you don't know what's happening outside.

You're too scared to move from behind the sofa in your room. Your blood runs cold, and you feel like death is creeping up on you.

They say that when death is near, people often think about their past. That may be true because you're thinking about all the terrible things that have happened in your life. For a moment, you think you hear your mother's screaming voice, who died a long time ago. But when you listen carefully, you realize it's not your mother's voice, but someone else's voice asking for help from outside your room.

It's probably the dumbest decision you've ever made in your life to open the door to help a stranger. You know that the best thing to do right now is to sit still and pretend like nothing is happening until it's all over. But every minute that passes by slowly, you can't help but think about the voice asking for help outside your door.

It was just a moment of weakness, the only moment you agreed to open the door for someone to come in. He rushed in quickly and almost fell onto the carpet in the room if you hadn't grabbed his other arm first.

You found that he was a tall, handsome man with a mustache and slightly tousled hair. A moaning sound kept coming out of his mouth and the blood flowing from his abdomen let you know that he was seriously injured and if you didn't do anything, he could die right there.

It was fortunate that you were a volunteer nurse. You quickly dragged him onto the sofa before searching for first aid supplies that you could find at that time. You accidentally took a deep breath when you had to take off his shirt, and saw his bare body covered in blood. His face didn't look good at all, but he still had enough strength to talk to you.

"Thank you for opening the door."

You don't answer him. In reality, you didn't trust him, but his injury is the most important thing you need to pay attention to right now.

You tried your best to keep your hands as still as possible as the sharp tip of the knife entered the wound to extract the bullet. It was a fresh surgical procedure without any painkillers, and it was amazing that this man could endure it without screaming or groaning, even though there were occasional curse words coming out.

The three bullets have penetrated different parts of the body, but luckily none of them have hit any vital organs. You safely removed all the bullets and threw them on the table before starting to sew up the wound. You raised your head and observed him for a while to check if he was still alive, and every time you looked at him, he always looked back at you as if he never missed a beat with all your actions.

"You are very good at stitching wounds," he said.

'I'm a volunteer nurse,' you finally answered him, but you still remained guarded and tense, which was noticeable to him because he laughed softly.

"I've never seen a blonde woman in Colombia before," the man continued to try to strike up a conversation. "Where are you from, America?"

"Yes, but actually my mother is Argentinean," you replied.

"My mother is also from Argentina," he nodded slowly, his expression unchanged. "Normally I don't like gringos very much, but I'll make an exception for you."

His words sounded playful, and he still didn't take his eyes off you once. As you pick up the sanitary napkin that you bought and use it to soak up the blood from his wound. and trying not to stare at the gun tucked into his pants.

At this point, you began to worry more and more.

The man with the gun had only two options: the police or the bad guys.

And you have absolutely no idea who you are saving the life of?

"Are you scared?" he asked.

You flinched at his question, feeling like he could read your mind. Your breath trembled as you saw his large hand touch the gun. At this point, you regretted your decision to open the door for him without thinking. You were a lone woman with nothing but a kitchen knife, while he can blow your brains out whenever he wants to.

Even though you didn't know who he was,you stared into his dark brown eyes, begging him:

"I promise I won't say anything. No matter what anyone asks me, okay?"

His facial expression looked surprising, as if he wasn't ready or didn't expect to hear a begged from you. For a moment, it seemed like he was thinking about something that you couldn't possibly know, but it wasn't long before he turned his attention back to you.

"I promise I won't do anything to you, and I won't let anyone else do anything to you," he replied with a chuckle in his throat. A faint smile appeared on his pale face.

"Just know that a Colombian man keeps his promises for life,"

You weren't sure if his words were true or not but your intuition whispered to you to trust him. No matter what promises he gives, he will definitely do as he says.

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