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fleshbride · 6 months

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PRESENTING . . . HOUSE OF BALLOONS!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ SITUATIONSHIP GETO SUGURU X F!READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW : extreme toxicity; possessiveness; stalking; relationship sabotage; obsession; suguru is CRAZY, bro is an actual mastermind; reader cheats on her bf w/ suguru; consensual recording; manipulation; reader is a bit dumb; pet names used are baby, dollface, minx, lovely, angel; smut; dry humping, throat fucking, throat bulging, fingering, ruined orgasms, breeding kink, baby trapping, a mix of degradation and praise, breath play, slight bondage, edging & overstimulation, dumbification, sado-madochism, pain play, branding (suguru puts a cigarette out on reader three times as a way of claiming), cervix fucking, sir kink, HINTS of somnophilia (brief description of suguru fucking reader while she’s asleep); dick drunk reader; suguru has a dick piercing; pregnancy.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc : 8.3k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ guys this is actually so nasty and feral, im so so so sorry. this is based off that jjk men loyalty post and suguru was placed in the middle because he would situationship the FUCK out of you. and worse? i’d probably fall for it and do it too. so then i wrote an entire fucking fic. and i’m so so sorry because this is actually pure filth. i don’t know what happened to me guys… suguru is just actually so nghh

A SITUATIONSHIP WITH SUGURU GETO is essentally the same as signing a contract giving away the rest of your life. because once you entered it, you were no longer able to get out. it started sweet, of course. suguru was good to you, despite not being your boyfriend. maybe that was what caused the sources of your problems.

you wanted to date suguru and the both of you knew it. despite the fact that you acted like a couple — kissing, going out together, having sex, even saying that dreaded l-word — you two didn’t have an official relationship. and it genuinely drove you insane. especially when suguru got a little too close with girls, knowing your attachment to him.

you told yourself that you couldn’t really be mad because you weren’t dating. so, you started doing the same thing, expanding your options.

and suguru didn’t like that very much.

you two often had explosive arguments that either went one of two ways; one of you blocking the other and severing communication or the desperate confessions of love to keep each other around.

and when he gets blocked, it doesn’t take suguru long to contact you somehow or someway. whether it be following you on a different account, or going as far as showing up to your home, he gets to you again.

it’s an endless cycle that constantly leaves you overwhelmed and emotionally drained. the intense love you have for suguru is undeniable. it’s undeniable in the way you let him back, the way you willingly go back.

every time you hit that unblock button, your friends look at you with concern and express their disappointment, warning you that he isn't good for you.

and deep down, you know they're right. of course, you're aware of the potential harm and negative consequences. but can't they understand the depth of your emotions? you’re in love with him. over time, your friends gradually stop shaking their heads in disapproval. instead, they simply roll their eyes when his name is brought up in conversation. it’s as if they've given up on trying to convince you otherwise.

however, suguru soon reaches his final chance, when you find out he’s been fucking one of your friends. this time, there’s no argument. you’re swift, blocking every one of his socials you know, deleting & blocking his number. that was it. you were free.

a year passes by, and you’re sure you’ve moved on. you got a new boyfriend, who’s sweet, and so dedicated to you. suguru hasn’t tried to contact you, even though he’d never be able to. you move from your college dorm, to live with your devoted boyfriend, you get a new job at a local cafe. you’ve never been happier, and everything is going so good for you.

almost too good.

suguru is a dedicated man, which you had seemed to forget. the entire time you thought he had left you alone, that he too had moved on; well, you were wrong.

moving didn’t hide you from him, even if you thought it did. he eventually found out from one of your friends, and you. you may have blocked some of his instagram accounts, but not all.

you often posted the scenery of your new area. and your boyfriend. it wasn’t hard to pinpoint you from there. you also posted about working at a cafe. so he searched up the cafes in the area — it couldn’t be too far, because he knew you weren’t a fan of driving long distances.

it gave him three options.

three different cafes. so here’s how he found you; it really wasn’t hard. he put on a mask over his nose and mouth, tucked his long dark hair into his hoodie. he went to the first cafe, and he asked a simple question. “is y/n on the clock today? she’s the only one who makes my order correctly.”

from the first two, he got a, “y/n? we don’t have an employee by that name.”

but the third one, god it must’ve been luck. because when he asked, he got the most blissful answer.

“y/n? oh, she works from 8am - 2pm on saturdays and sundays, but she works from 2pm to 8pm on mondays, tuesdays and thursdays.”

that was so much more than he bargained for, but god was he ecstatic. she told him your schedule? that coworker must’ve had it out for you, or something. but who was he to question her and her helpfulness?

what he had to do was obvious from there. he began to frequent your job on the days you worked, however only when you had just left.

he kept it this way, until that faithful day.

it was his usual routine. he had came to the cafe on sunday, at 2:30pm. you should’ve been long gone by now, so he thought. but there you were, working the register, with a sweet smile on your face and a bedazzled name tag on your breast.

you’re even more beautiful in person, he realizes. those eye bags you used to have faded away, and your smile is bright. you’re as perfect as he left you. only problem? you allowed yourself to be stained by another man. but it was okay, suguru assumed — he’d clean you up.

he doesn’t hesitate to get in the line to buy something, even though it’s so rare when he does. he comes to the counter with eyes and shaky breaths, acting like he’s just as surprised to see you.

your eyes are as wide as saucers when you finally set on him. you didn’t see him immediately come through the door, so you didn’t see him for a while… until there were only two people in front of him in the line.

you were internally panicking and screaming, your heart beating so fast you thought it may crack one of your ribs . how did he find you? what does he want? and beyond that, how handsome he looked — however, you shoved these thoughts down. you had a boyfriend now, and you were never engaging with suguru again. simple as that.

“what’re you doing here?” he breathes out as he reaches the counter. you’re beyond shocked, eyes widening as you blink at him. “no, what are you doing here? i work here. you don’t even drink coffee.” and it’s true; in all your time together, suguru never touched a cup of coffee. he swallows, hard, and you wonder just exactly he’s thinking as he stares at you from underneath his thick lashes.

“i have… lately,” his voice is gentle, sad almost, “i come here daily for coffee. speaking of… can i get a large of straight black dark roast? with a dash of cream and sugar.” you nod and hastily go to make it. when you come back, he shifts, rocking side to side. “i want to apologize to you. for everything. can… can we talk when you get off?”

and you should’ve known better. you really should have. but you’re stupid enough to say yes.

he waits several hours for you; you tell him you’re working a double, and you’ll be closing the store. he doesn’t mind, it seems, especially when he helps you mop and clean, helping stack up chairs. it reminds you of how gentle suguru was with you. when it’s time to go, he questions, “you walk home?” when you nod, he scowls, obviously still slightly protective over you. it warms your heart, but you force it to freeze back over.

however, it remelts when he pushes you to the inside of the sidewalk, standing on the side closest to the street. “my boyfriend and i live around the block, so i just walk here and back. i never really get any trouble.” suguru hums; you’re setting that boundary early on.

i’ve moved on from you, you’re telling him subliminally, i’m with someone new. it’s funny that you think suguru cares.

the two of you are silent as you walk, and you find yourself questioning whether or not he’s going to apologize; or is he just using this opportunity to get close to you again? you get your answer when a few minutes later, he stops and turns to you.

“y/n,” his voice is husky and it’s cold enough that his exhalation of your name leaves a white mist, “i’m sorry, for everything. i was wrong to put you through those things. you’re such a sweet girl; you didn’t deserve it.” and a part of him means it, truly. he would’ve done things differently if he knew you were going to leave. “can we be friends? please?”

you feel the cold tears prick your eyes, and you nod, once, then twice. you sniff and whimper out a sweet, “yeah, suguru. we can be friends again.”

that’s your biggest mistake.

because now that you’ve allowed suguru in your life again, you’ve just given him the green light to do what he does best. spiral things into his control. he starts out with small things, starting with planting a seed of insecurity.

you had let him meet your boyfriend, at your boyfriend’s insistence, to prevent insecurity. his boyfriend knew all about suguru, so to say that he was a bit hostile was a bit of an understatement. suguru was the epitome of calm, all kind smiles towards your boyfriend. it was almost… embarrassing for you. your boyfriend was almost childish; when you cooked for the three, and your boyfriend set the table, he refused to get a plate for suguru. suguru took it in stride, however, only laughing it off. this was damn near perfect for suguru; he was going to lie, but your boyfriend was so fucking stupid, he basically laid out the soil for suguru’s seeds.

what’s worse was the fact that suguru is both taller and more muscular than your boyfriend; and whenever suguru stood and looked down at him, your boyfriend would jeer. later, your beloved expressed his slight inferiority. you did your best to reassure him, but anytime you mentioned suguru, he seemed to bristle. ‘it isn’t like that,’ you’d plead to him, with hands out, ‘we’re just becoming friends again, i swear!’

of course, you’d eventually go to tell suguru that you had to distance, in order to preserve your relationship.

he was understanding, yes, but not without a, “why doesn’t he trust you enough to let us be friends?” and maybe that stuck with you a bit. a week later, suguru drops off two plates of your favorite food. he says he was making it, and thought you’d enjoy the meal. he even brought a plate for your boyfriend. you’re ecstatic — as the meal isn’t one you often find in stores, and when you do, it isn’t cook to the fullest. however, while the two of you were … engaging, suguru learned to make it perfectly.

you’re all smiles and cheers, while your boyfriend is livid. suguru doesn’t overstay his welcome and departs with a smile and a nice goodbye for you both.

the argument ensues from there.

“i thought you cut him off?” your boyfriend asks you, his voice snappy and filled with anger. you raise your eyebrows, still holding the two plates in your hands as you move to the kitchen. you reply,”you didn’t ask me to. you told me to distance, and i did. me and suguru haven’t talked much at all since then.”

“then why is he dropping off food for you?” your boyfriend shoots back, almost immediately. you place the food on the counter and turn to him, feeling your irritation simply growing and growing. “for us, you mean,” you correct sassily, furrowing your eyebrows, “it would be different if the food was only for me. but there’s some for you too. he was being thoughtful.”

“why can’t you so obviously see that he’s a manipulative asshole?” your boyfriend yells as he throws his hands up, pacing around the couch. “how dim are you? he did it while you two were fucking around, and he’s doing it now! i don’t want you to be friends with him anymore.”

you’re bubbling over. so he’s calling you stupid now? you feel your irritation shift into anger instead. “you don’t get to tell me who i can and can’t be friends with because of your own fucking insecurities. you don’t get to do that shit, you don’t get to make something out of nothing. and most of all, you don’t get to throw my past experiences that i trusted you with into my fucking face.” you’re grabbing your food, and your coat simultaneously.

“wait, where are you going?” your boyfriend asks, his voice suddenly dropping from a yell to a concerned croon. your shoving your arm into a coat sleeve as you huff, “somewhere to cool off. you’ve pissed me off and now i don’t even want to be in this fucking house.”

your boyfriend wants to protest, but he doesn’t. he purses his lips, and he nods, before mumbling out a, “be safe. keep your location on, please?”

begrudgingly, you nod, before leaving.

of course, you end up at geto’s. you’re venting your frustrations as you eat the meal he prepared. it hadn’t even been an hour since he dropped off the food, and here you were. it’s how he knew that his plans were working, and god was he ecstatic. of course, he couldn’t seduce you right here and now, no. it’s much too early. he has to keep throwing the rock at the window, over and over. until it finally breaks.

this throw is only a crack in your window.

those arguments begin to happen more frequently, suguru’s large crack gives way to more and more little cracks, until you’re at your wits end. you’re not gonna break up with your boyfriend yet, but you’re starting to get aggravated. suguru figures it’s time for him to implement his plan.

you’re laying on his couch after an explosive argument between you and your boyfriend about geto seemingly “flirting” with you: suguru had bought tickets for the ballet for all three of you; your boyfriend refused to go, falling right into suguru’s trap. you were aggravated with him — he denied every opportunity to actually make sure no flirting would happen and denied. then got mad at you for enjoying yourself. but you wouldn’t allow that, tonight. you went to see the ballet with suguru, and honestly the two of you had a wonderful time.

but then, your dress had ripped so suguru held it together until the two of you got into the car. you had walked into the house, suguru shuffling behind you and your boyfriend went ballistic, claiming that suguru ripped it himself.

now, suguru didn’t even plan this one — but your boyfriend was just so good at being a little helper. while suguru watched the argument awkwardly, trying his best to ‘deescalate’ the argument, while intentionally making it worse. you ended up leaving with suguru, ripped dress and all.

now here you are, sitting on his couch, with tears streaming down your beautiful made-up face. suguru’s cooing to you through your distress, giving your back gentle rubs. “he’s such a dick, y/n,” suguru murmurs as you blubber out your frustrations, “i can’t believe he got so worked up… it’s starting to piss me off, too. i even bought a ticket for him to come with us.”

you let out a cry of agreement, going, “which was so nice of you! he complains about us being alone but never come when he’s invited! it’s so… so…!”

“hypocritical,” he finishes for you, pulling you to lean on his shoulder. you comply, even when his hand slides to rub at your hips. “i wasn’t the greatest, but… god, even i didn’t do you like that. didn’t he call you stupid or something a week ago? i actually don’t think i’ve ever done that.” he laughs it off like a joke, but watches your reaction carefully.

the words have you thinking back. no, suguru hadn’t ever called you stupid. when he started getting jealous, he never put you in situations to be jealous over. he was never childish like your boyfriend… your brows furrow and you pout, hesitantly nodding. suguru smiles; it’s working. he takes this a sign to keep talking.

“and i noticed that like… he barely posts you. like you have a highlight for him on insta, and he doesn’t have one for you,” he begins, continuing to caress your skin, before pulling a pack of his favorite cigarettes out of his pocket. “and i don’t mean to infringe on your relationship, y/n.. it’s just weird to me. considering that i had a highlight for you even when we weren’t dating.”

you pause, lightly leaning into suguru’s touch. he’s not wrong… in fact, he’s very right. your boyfriend always told you that he didn’t post you a lot because he didn’t want people in your relationship business. you had accepted it at the time, but now suguru’s words had you questioning.

“am i overstepping?” suguru asks gently, his hand still rubbing your hip, pulling you into him as he exhales cigarette smoke. his dark violet eyes focus on you, and you examine his features, like you used to do before.

his long hair is pulled into his trademark half-up half-down style. slim eyes looking down at you with an all too familiar glaze. his angular, perfect features that had to been crafted by god. he’s… he’s so much prettier… you curse yourself for even thinking it, but he’s so much prettier than your boyfriend. he licks his lips as he watches you watch him. his head tilts slightly.

“maybe your boyfriend wasn’t wrong, though,” he says, voice husky — it sends unwanted shivers down your spine. “maybe i haven’t been exactly appropriate to you. maybe i do want you back.”

you swallow hard, slight shock flooding you. you expected it but didn’t at the same time. even though all those times you vented and brought up how your boyfriend was convinced suguru wanted you, suguru never confirmed or denied. only soothed you.

you don’t know what to say, or how you feel but you know it’s wrong. “n-no, suguru,” you force yourself to say, “it’s wrong. a-and you already had a chance. so many chances.” your scooting away, but suguru is pulling you back to him.

his lips press against your ear as he whispers, “c’mon, baby… please? i learned my lesson. i can’t bare to see another man treat you like this, when i know… we both know… i have my problems, but i can treat you so much better.” you’re trying to pull away, but your body and your heart is too familiar with suguru. you ache, despite knowing that it’s wrong. it’s cheating.

“suguru, i-i can’t cheat..!” you whimper pathetically, and suddenly, he’s pushing you down onto the couch, sliding on top of you. you moan, as you feel him press against you, cursing yourself.

“there it is,” suguru hisses, lifting his cigarette to his wet lips again, “moaning just based off that? he hasn’t been fucking my girl right, now has he?”

“not your girl..!” you gasp as he presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your neck. you protest out of guilt, but god, you don’t stop him.

because just like he said, you both know. your boyfriend couldn’t, in no way, compared to suguru geto.

“not my girl?” suguru whispers as he kisses up your jawline, “you sure? because you’re gasping and whining out like you are. you’ve always been mine, y/n. you know you have. let me take care of you, baby. come back home.”

there’s an ache in your pussy, and you’re sure that it’s your sexual organ talking when you whine, “okay, suguru, j-just please… please fuck me.” the need you feel overwhelms the guilt as suguru presses his clothed dick against you.

you can feel him, pressing against you through your panties, and the squeal you let out makes suguru laugh. he’s sliding you up with one hand and into his lap. he hikes your dress up to your hips and you think he’s going to take you right then and there; but no. instead he presses you down against his crotch, forcing you to get off on the feeling of his covered dick simply pressing against you.

“s-suguru! c’mon, give me more, please!” you mewl as you grip his broad shoulders desperately. you watch as he lifts his cigarette to his lips. “nuh uh,” he says as he exhales, “you’re going to pay for leaving me for some bitch who can’t even fuck you right. ride me jus’ like this, y/n. and don’t stop until i say so.”

and unfortunately, you’re obedient and desperate for any shred of stimulation you can get. you began grinding your hips down against suguru through his slacks, his hardened dick rubbing against your pussy through your panties. you’re so wet that you begin to gush through the thin cotton of your panties, dripping onto suguru’s slacks in a puddle.

you don’t say anything however, yearning for the intense pleasure that suguru always gave you. that year away from suguru must’ve made you forget; nobody will ever fuck you as good as he does.

he watches as you clutch onto him, pathetically grinding and shaking your hips down onto your lap, whining as your panties rub against your clit just right. in a few minutes or so, you’re even ready to cum. suguru has your habits memorized when you were close, and that hasn’t changed.

you still tremble, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. your eyes cross a little and your back arches. suguru grins. oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?

“stop.”

he chuckles darkly, and when you don’t listen the first time, he pulls you off of him. you let out a mix of a sob and a moan, your face twisting into something pitiful. “suguru!” you wail, fat tears spilling over. “i was so fucking close! why would you do that?”

suguru gracefully puts you on the floor between his legs, laughing at your plight. “oh, i never said you’d cum, dollface. i just told you to do it. but it’s okay, my dumb girl. ‘m gonna reward you a different way.” he begins unbuttoning the slacks as you perch between his legs. he’s rolling the black pants down his thighs, along with his boxers and there it is.

his dick bounces free. it’s long, and has a nasty curve upwards. he’s thick too — scarily so. his tip is fat and a perfect round shape. it’s a dark tan, a few shades darker than his skin. and it’s decorated with a silver reverse prince albert piercing. precum slides out, a silky white color. you feel drool collect in your mouth as his dick hovers above you.

“you know what to do,” suguru tells you with an expectant look, his cigarette perched perfectly between his lips, “open your mouth and let me use you. uh huh, just like that lovely, stick out that tongue…” you do as he tells you, hands on his knees as you lean up; tongue out, eyes locked with suguru’s.

he slaps his dick on your tongue a few times, before he slides his length into your mouth. immediately, your lips enclose around him. his hand laces into your hair, using it as leverage to pull your head down his length. you gag fiercely around him, hands moving from his knees to his thighs, digging into his skin.

suguru smokes his cigarette with hazy eyes as he pushes your head down his dick, and back up. the noise your throat makes when his tip hits your uvula is wet and messy, and god does he love it.

your slobbing down his length, your spit trickling down his balls; your eyes are filled with tears, a few even spilling over. however, your plump lips stay wrapped around him. you suck your cheeks in and gaze up at him, submission coating your every movement. your tongue slides against the glands on his dick, making him let out a soft groan.

“take this dick down your throat just like that, whore, fuck,” he rasps to you, his movements becoming a little more aggressive, “did you suck on him like this? lookin’ up at me all pretty. bet you didn’t suck his dick like you needed it; didn’t show him how much of a fucking whore you are, hm?” he puts his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and then he slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “i think we should. is that okay?” as best as you can, you nod, still swallowing up his dick.

suguru is on his phone for a few seconds, before laughing out, “ha! he texted me. he wants me to bring you fuckin’ home. too bad; you’re already home, right, baby?” of course, you don’t answer. your mouth is too stuffed full of his dick. suguru gets rougher then. his original languid pace is discarded, and he begins to push and pull himself out of your mouth. his tip rams against your uvula, before sliding into your throat. you’re choking for air, sputtering. he’s fucking your throat so cruelly, there’s a bulge in your throat every time he sheaths himself in your mouth.

you try to pull in air through your nose, but it’s too hard to focus when suguru is pressing your face into his pelvis, his heady scent filling you and making you dizzy. or was that just the lack of oxygen? you realize that he’s recording your pathetic display. you’re a fucking mess, pussy drooling as he ruins you.

“shiiit, angel,” he curses, head thrown back, and his locks messy around his shoulders. his bottom lip between his teeth, “gonna cum. gonna cum in your mouth, and you’re gonna swallow every fuckin’ drop, understand?”

you swirl your tongue around him, letting him know you’re ready. his thrusts become reckless, before he spills his load inside of your mouth. his cum tastes nice, as always — it has a slightly bitter tang to it, but you take it in stride. as he slides his softened dick out of your mouth, you open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out; showing him his cum coating your mouth.

his phone captures it all.

“is this your girlfriend?” he taunts the camera, grabbing your cheeks and bringing your mouth closer to the phone as cum dribbles down your chin. “look at her. that’s my cum. this is my girl.” you swallow his cum then, and suguru lets out a coo of, “good slut.” before he’s ending the video and sending it.

as soon as he releases your face, you’re sucking in big breaths of air, coughing and sputtering and wiping your eyes from the tears. he rubs your head while you do so, letting out soft coos of reasurance.

he sits back for a second, sliding his dick back into his slacks, before telling you, “go to my room and get undressed. i’ll be there in a minute.” he watches you nod and scamper up, going up the stairs to his room, your hips swaying.

suguru picks up his put out cigarette as he watches your boyfriend trip out about the video, both of your phones dinging with notifications. he lets out a laugh.

suguru always gets what he wants eventually, especially you.

he’s getting up to follow behind you then, pulling off his tie in the process. suguru can feel his own desperation and need for you setting in. it had been a year and a few months; in that time, he didn’t engage much in sex and romantic relationships. none of them were you.

and even now, when he gets to his room and you’re sat on his bed, eyes soft and legs slightly spread as you wait for him, he knows.

none of them will ever be you.

suguru stares at you, almost unnervingly as he walks into the room, leaning against the wall. it makes you self-conscious, curling into yourself as you press your hands against your body to shield yourself.

“don’t.” suguru says, and he walks to you, grabbing your arms. “i need to see all of you.” before you could even respond, he’s wrapping his tie around your wrists.

“suguru?” you question gently as the black fabric wraps around your hands, keeping you bound. suguru shushes you, before picking you up and moving you to the top of the bed. “shh, lovely. i gotta fuck those thoughts of your ‘boyfriend’ out of you. so you’re gonna be a good whore and you’re gonna take it. understood?”

“yes sir,” you whisper as he lays you down, before his hands are spreading your thighs, to reveal your pretty pussy; soaked with your self-lubrication. you move your bound hands to cover yourself, but suguru knocks them away. “put your hands away, what’re you covering yourself for? i know your body like the back of my hand.”

and he’s right, so you try your best to relax. your tensity is immediately forgotten when he puts a finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles against it. you shiver and let out a dulcet moan, a lovely sing of, “suguru— mnngh, fuck..” he takes so much pride in the way he makes you feel, the way he makes you cry out and arch your back just due to his finger rubbing against your clit.

“shh, dollface,” suguru says as he sits between your legs, spreading them more. his large hand wraps around your calf to put your leg up. his finger trails from your clit to your sopping hole, before sliding two fingers inside.

the stretch from just two of suguru’s fingers had you letting out mellifluous moans, squirming in his hold. he held you still while he pushed his fingers inside of you until they were knuckle deep, thumb pressing against your clit.

suguru was slow and methodical with the way he fingered you; sliding his fingers out slowly just to thrust them back in a fast pace, fingertips curling against your warm, gummy walls. your slick was dripping down onto his palm as he rocked his finger into you.

you were his mess, letting out whines as his long, thick fingers scissored inside of you, pressing against your g-spot. “he couldn’t get you like this, now could he?” suguru asked as he pressed his fingers against your g-spot again, making you squeal. you didn’t answer at first, but when he added a third finger inside of you, hissing out, “fucking answer me.” you were quick to babble out, “no, sugu! no, no, no, he could never get me like this… only you, only you!”

suguru chuckles in satisfaction as he watches you struggle to hold on to the sheets with your bound wrists. “fuckin’ slut,” he muses, “cheating on your boyfriend like some fucking whore who can’t keep her legs closed.” he tuts, and shame floods through you; however, it’s eradicated by the way he curls his fingers against your g-spot, his quick but precise thrusting hitting it every time. your juices are all over his hand, sloppy noises echoing through the room. the way suguru looks at you has your heart beating in your fucking ovaries.

you’re close, euphoria is spreading through your body and your stomach is tightening. your pussy is contracting around suguru’s fingers as you whimper, “i’m sorry…! sorry for bein’ a slut, sir.”

“i forgive you,” he laughs a little bit, as your eyes roll back. “you’re my slut, of course. you’ll always belong to me; always be mine, no matter where you go.” right as your pussy begins to spasm around him, and your body begins to twitch, eyes rolling back again — he slides his fingers out of you.

the sob you let out is tremendous, bordering on a scream. suguru only watches as you sob, fat tears rolling down your already ruined face as you sob out different variations of ‘why?’ and ‘i wanted to cum!’ through your tears as you glare up at him. suguru only watches your pathetic, desperate display as he begins to fully undress. his eyebrow raised as he watches you, slightly smirking. you’re so cute, so desperate for him. he loves when you get like this.

by the time he’s fully naked, you’re facedown into the blankets, still whimpering, your sobs slowing. suguru wants to laugh, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. he crawls on the bed towards you, grabbing you and turning you over onto your back. you look up at him with teary eyes as he hovers above you. your bound hands reaches up, and you mange to press the back of your hand to his cheek. oh, how you missed this sight.

your hands sneak to his hair, and you pull out his ponytail. his hair falls around his shoulders, and he smiles at you; a genuine smile, and you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle. he leans down, sliding his lips against yours as his hand wraps around your throat loosely. suguru tastes like sweet cigarettes, like a mix of nicotine and love and sex. you don’t know how else to describe it.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you feverishly. you try your best to keep up with his insistent lips, as his tongue curls against the roof of your mouth.

“m-missed you more,” you rasped back against his lips.

you guys are pulling away occasionally to gaze at each other sweetly at his other hand trails down your body, caressing you wherever he can. he’s devouring your lips, hand slightly tightening on your neck. “love you, y/n,” he whispers, before continuing on like it was never said.

your heart pumps, and before you realize it, your lips are moving to say, “love you more, suguru,” you feel him grin into the kiss, and it becomes more desperate. it’s messy, the way he kisses you — the way he laps at your mouth and begs for more of you, all of you.

you can’t help but give.

his tip rubs against your hole, his piercing cold against your heat. on instinct, you let out a slight hiss at the feeling. he shushes you gently, as he pushes his hips forward slowly. the stretch of him has your head falling back, and your eyes rolling. your mouth falls open in an o, but you’re unable to make a noise, as if he’s snatched it out of you.

pain mixes with pure pleasure as he feeds your greedy cunt inch after inch of him. your body is trembling as you feel his piercing scratch your g-spot, making you gasp out, before said piercing is nudging your cervix. his curved dick has you going insane, hitting spots you forgot you had. above you, suguru is as much of a mess as you are.

he’s panting, irises so dilated that it’s just black with a ring of dark violet. one hand is gripping your hips, the other squeezing your throat as he spears you on his dick, soft moans escaping his lips. “fuck, angel,” he groaned as he threw his head back, “missed this pussy s’much. you’re taking me so well, look…” you manage to look down, watching as suguru pulls out of you before snapping his hips into yours.

the single, experimental thrust has you seeing stars. your tied hands are pushed above your head by suguru and he holds your hands, keeping them there. he pulls your legs to rest on his shoulders, and you blank. because now, the angle is different, and he’s pulling out and—

the rough thrust he blesses you with has you whimpering out his name, and that’s just the beginning. it doesn’t stop from there, no. he releases your hands, going to grip your throat again as he begins to stuff you full, slamming into you over and over.

that hand on your throat tightens just how you like it, until your noises are gasped and raspy, and there’s black spots swimming in your vision. this, paired with the way suguru pushes his hips into yours, bullying your pussy, has you teetering on the edge.

suguru knows this. he knows your body far too well, much more than you’d like. he knows that when he trails a hand down to your breasts, to pull and twist at your nipples like he does right now, it only shoves you closer to the edge. “don’t cum,” he whispers to you, “i didn’t even really get started, doll. don’t tell me you’re gonna cum just from a few strokes like this?” he smirks down at you, as his thrusts pause. the hand around your throat sliding up to rub his thumb on your bottom lip. the slight relief has you sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain your voice.

suguru decides to help you. he resumes his fierce thrusts, ripping a croaked cry of, “suguru—!” out of you. he picks up speed, jackhammering into you, and your nails dig into the palm of your hand as you’re forced to grip your own hands. he’s fucking you like this, and you’re supposed to not cum? his thrusts snatch the barely regained air out of your lungs, forcing more tears into your eyes.

your clit throbs painfully, your stomach tight as you try to hold on to the orgasm that is so close, too close to washing over you. “can’t control yourself?” suguru taunts from above you with a slight laugh, “fuck, baby, you’re a mess. got your fucking juices drippin’ down my balls,” he let out another chuckle, “pussy just clenched around me too. you like when i make fun of you, don’t you? masochistic cumwhore.” he grips your face, watching your tits bounce fiercely with every thrust.

“it huuuurts, sugu,” you whimper in an agonizingly sweet voice, “please let me cum, please, please, i can’t take it..! please, sir, it hurts…!”

“you love it when it hurts, though,” he tuts at you, his hair hanging in his face, and above you as he keeps up his thrusts. you let out a desperate, pained whine and he softens. just a little. but he doesn’t let you cum yet. instead, he leans down, lips pressed to your ear, “say you won’t leave me, ever again. say you won’t go anywhere.”

you know it’s a trap, but you fall into it anyways. “i won’t! i won’t leave you again, i promise, p-please just let me cum. i won’t go anywhere, i won’t ever have anyone else! j-just please…”

“cum.” suguru says one word, and immediately, you do. your eyes roll back, your body seizes, and your pussy clenches so impossibly tight around him that he can’t even pull out.

“shit—!” he hisses, hands gripping your hips. your clenching sends him over the edge too, his cum pumping into you. he didn’t mean to cum inside of you, no. but now it’s given him an idea. “fuckin’ minx, pussy clamped so hard on me, it had me cum in you,” he rasped as he pressed his lips to your sweaty skin.

you want to care, you really do. you want to panic and make a scene, but god, you don’t fucking care. the feeling of having his cum inside of you feels too good. you didn’t even let your boyfriend cum inside of you. should you be ashamed of yourself? you don’t know. actually, scratch that. once again, you don’t fucking care. all you can murmur is, “just… don’t do it again.”

you don’t care because your mind is foggy, the best kind of foggy. the orgasmic haze you’re in has you blissed out as you’re splayed across suguru’s bed.

suguru is marking you, biting, licking, sucking at your neck, collarbone and chest until they’re littered with reddish-purple hickeys, along with the hand print from him choking. if he’s going to bring you home to your boyfriend, he’s going to bring you back with a message. he grabs his cigarette and his lighter. he lights it, and takes a puff, before looking down at you. “this is gonna hurt,” he tells you, and you connect the dots immediately. you shake your head at him, but he shushes you. “be a good slut, and let me do this. don’t move, or it’s gonna hurt more.”

you go completely still, biting your lip as tears appear on your lash line. he softens when he sees you like this, scared. his hand presses against your face, trying to soothe you. even as he presses his cigarette against your collarbone. in order to distract you, he begins to thrust again. the pain and pleasure fight for dominance over your body, and you focus on the pleasure; even though the smell of your burning flesh fills the room. he puts out his cigarette two more times on your skin, before pressing kisses to the scars.

“i have to make sure that you, and everyone else, know that you belong to someone.” he whispers to you, still pressing kisses to the spot. you barely understand him though, because you feel like you’re fading. drowning in a sea of pleasure that he’s created.

his eyes lock on your bound hands, and the red mark around your wrists. he unties your hands, and you let out a garbled noise of relief. you watch as he presses kisses to your wrists, while still pumping his thick dick through your walls. you’re on the edge again, and suguru flicks at your clit, making you cum another time, your body twitching and your hands grabbing at his skin.

suguru’s close, too, and he knows what he has to do now.

suguru’s ideas are dangerous, but he finds it in him that he doesn’t care. he can’t trust your word that you’ll never leave. he can’t rely on just marking you. he’ll have to make sure that you’re unable to go anywhere, he’ll have to make sure that you need him.

he’ll have to knock you up.

it’s as simple as that. the simple idea of you swelled with his child has him reeling. suguru knows it’ll work. you don’t use birth control, because you don’t like the way it makes you gain weight, and you often forget to take the pill. and, he saw condoms and plan b’s at your house. it’s almost comical. suguru’s sure that you’d take his baby; but not your boyfriend’s.

the idea excites him even more and he grips your thighs, using his weight to push you into a mating press.

everything’s a blurry mess from there.

he’s slamming his hips into you with a regained fever, over and over and over. your heightened sensitivity is unable to take it, and you’re a squealing, whining mess with every move that he makes. your grasping at anything in your reach, mainly him and the bedsheets.

suguru folds you in half as he feels his own orgasm coming. “you’re gonna take every drop i give you, understand? don’t waste my cum, slut.” you want to tell him to wait, to cum on your stomach. but you don’t. you can barely think at all. instead, you lose control of your body as you cum right with him, as he shoots his load of thick cum straight to your womb.

you think he’s done, but no; instead he flips you over onto your hands and knees. he grips your throat from behind with both hands as he slams into you one more time. pumping and filling you, breeding you like some animal. you can barely moan anymore, animalistic whimpers and grunts escaping you instead as he slams his hips against the plush of your ass. suguru lets go of your neck to grip your hair, pushing your face into his pillows as you drool mindlessly, brain fucked away.

“helloooo…” he asks, teasing you purposely, “anyone in there?” when you don’t answer, he barks out a laugh. “look at you. gone stupid on my dick. i expected you to last longer. but no; you’re nothin’ but a dick hungry cumslut.” your body twitches and you make out some noise, resembling a ‘nooo…’, but suguru can’t tell.

“like it when i use you like this, hm? like it when i treat you like my fuckin’ cocksleeve, don’t you, y/n?” this time you manage to answer with a sweet ‘yes!’ and suguru smiles. you’re cumming again, sinking into the blankets with rasped moans. your throat is probably shredded from all the screaming you’ve been doing, but it’s okay.

it’s not long before suguru’s shooting his third load into you — or is it his fourth? you don’t remember, and neither does he.

you think it’s over, and maybe it is for approximately five to ten minutes. he gives both of you a break, and he presses kisses into your spine.

however, when he maneuvers you into a different position, you almost pass out. suguru isn’t done with you yet. the night continues like that, until the rosy fingers of dusk trickle into the room. he fucks you all fucking night, with a few breaks. he fucks you to sleep, and when you wake up, he’s still fucking you. a mix of your fluids soaks his bed, as he fucks load after load after load into you.

because suguru’s on a mission.

so when morning comes and he’s finally done using and abusing your body, he knows he’s succeeded. he scoops his cum off your thighs and stuffs it back into you, and right after he slides your panties back on, making sure it stays there.

soon after, when you wake again, he carries you to the bathroom, and he washes you up, still making sure that not too much of his cum slides out. he’s gentle with you, carrying you on his back around the house, driving you to get dunkin’ donuts for breakfast. the two of you completely ignore your phones, and the messages your boyfriend — well, ex-boyfriend left you two.

in fact, suguru does him one better. he arrives at the house with his arm around your waist and you nestled into his side. your ex-boyfriend is more than livid, more than furious, but he pales in comparison to suguru.

he screams at you, only once; because suguru is there to utter out a, “you yell at my girlfriend like that again, and i will fucking kill you.” and both you and your boyfriend are shocked. but suguru only nods to you, smiling gently as you hurry to collect everything you need. feminine products, clothes, jewelry. important things. anything you miss, suguru says you’ll get later. your boyfriend doesn’t utter a word after that single scream.

of course he texts you, ranging from angry to filled with despair. from “cheating fucking bitch” to “i’m sorry, i’ll do better, just please come home”. he’s soon blocked.

and when you miss your period the next month, you’re telling suguru. when the pregnancy test comes up positive and you’re looking up at him with a mix of shock, fear and excitement, he scoops you up into a kiss, murmuring about how he’s so happy.

because now you’re his forever.

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apocalypse-shuffle · 11 months

Text

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)

─────────────────

“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)

| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.

| SFW, piercing description, needles

| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)

You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.

“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”

You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.

“I know that,” you grumble.

Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.

You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”

Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.

“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”

In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.

His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.

“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”

“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.

“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”

“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”

“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”

“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”

“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.

Hobie chuckles.

“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”

“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”

“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.

He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.

You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.

Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.

“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”

You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”

“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?

A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.

“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”

Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.

“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.

Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.

“Three,” he states.

Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.

This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?

“Ow! You motherfucker!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.

Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.

Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

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tinfairies · 11 months

Text

Getting fucked by Vincent and Bo

Here have this thing I thought of while jerking off 😛

Bo is showing Vincent how to fuck a woman. You're splayed out on the dining table, like a toy, as Bo instructs his brother on how to touch you.

"She likes that. Her pretty cunt is sensitive. Go on give her a taste, it's fucking divine."

Vincent kneels between your legs, slipping his mask off and setting it next to him. Slowly he spreads your cunt open, the wet sound of the skin parting makes Vin's cock twitch.

"Go on, dig in." Bo urges, and you glance to him. He's smirking, and his jeans sport an obvious bulge at the crotch.

Vince gets his face closer to your heat, the smell of your cunt is even better from the source. Vincent's been stealing your dirty panties from the laundry basket for months. Licking off your discharge and holding them to his nose while he fucks his fist late at night.

Bo knows his brother is a pervert. Both of them. He plans on giving Lester a lesson soon too. If they wanna fantasize about you, then they gotta know how you like it.

Vincent whines as he finally presses his face into your hot cunt. He sucks your clit and slurps up your slick. Saliva dripping down to your puckered ass hole. So sloppy for such a delicate artist.

"Don't she taste good? Better than what's on her panties huh?"

You're mewling and whimpering, then looking down between your legs. A jolt of pleasure pierces your body as your eyes meet Vincent's. His one blue eye is locked on you, pupil blown out with lust.

His tongue slips down and invades your cunt. Rubbing the fleshy walls, trying to taste as much of you as possible. You throw your head back and moan loudly, eyes wandering to Bo.

He's got his cock out, slowly stroking, enjoying the show. He grins like the devil as he moves towards you. Gripping your hair and pulling your head backwards towards his cock, your nose presses to his balls as your neck bends off the end of the table.

Bo smacks his hot, red tip of his dick against your lips. A command to open up. You obey, and he shoves his cock down your throat.

"C'mon pretty girl, put that mouth to good use."

#vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers headcanons #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slashers imagines #slashers #Smut

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deceitfuldevout · 7 months

Text

Naughty Little Thief

Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader

Word Count: +5,416

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Theft, Stalking, Manhandling, Forced Oral (m receiving), Forced Stripping, Forced grinding, Unwanted orgasm, Classism, Verbal abuse, Partial loss of virginity, Rimming (f receiving), Public sex, Humiliation.

Author's Note(s): I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time before studying. Here's more Cillian content.

It's the holiday season, and you end up pickpocketing the wrong person. He makes sure you'll regret ever crossing paths with him.

You felt bad for what you were about to do. But he didn't seem like he was financially struggling. So of course, you decided to pickpocket the stranger. Deep down you hated it, but there was no other choice. It was either this or going hungry tonight. At the end of the day it didn't matter, money was money. That was the mindset that's kept you alive for so long. You spot the chosen victim, he's a businessman, seemingly in his thirties, wearing an expensive tailored suit. Jackpot.

You wind your way through the crowd of shoppers, scurrying towards the unsuspecting man. You're right beside him, giving a light pinch to his left side. As soon as he turns to find the source, you quickly reach into his right pocket and pull out his wallet, scurrying into the crowd to disappear. That was almost too easy. You could tell by the texture alone that it was expensive. You turn it around and read the embroidery on the flap, 'J. Rippner'. A man who has good taste.

But before you could open it, someone grips the back of your neck. A large leather hand digs into your skin. You cry out, dropping the wallet as both of your hands reach for the stranger's. He turns you to face him. It's Rippner, and he's pissed, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Hm?"

"I...I.." you were at a loss of words. He drags you by the arm into the nearest alleyway. You look around for someone, anyone who would see what was happening and stop him. No one, of course. Who would help a thief like you? He slams you hard against a brick wall, your head throbbing in pain from the impact. It takes you a while to catch your breath as all the air had escapes your lungs. He uses his body to trap yours between the cold stone, caging you with him.

He growls, "You wanna steal from me you thieving little bitch?!", he's fuming, "I should drag your ass straight to the police station," he hisses, his features twisting with anger. You could tell by those cold, piercing eyes that he was not an easily forgiving man. Yet still, you tried to persuade him, "W-wait! Please! I'll do anything! I-I swear!"

Jackson pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering up at down your quivering form. He's thinking of something that would satisfy his growing hunger, "Show me your tits," for a moment, you couldn't believe what he had just said, brows furrowing in confusion, "I-I'm sorry?" you look at him as if he'd grown two heads. He leans in, now grumbling, "Show me those tits, and I'll decide if you're worth letting go,"

His hands grip the front of your jacket as he unzips it. He rips open the buttons off your blouse, ignoring your protests. Finally reaching a lacy bralette hidden under all those layers. He whistles, "Well I'll be damned, you weren't expecting anyone, were you?" he mocks. Your fingers dig into his arms, but it was futile. You bare your teeth at the man holding you hostage, "Go to hell you perv!" that remark only worsens your situation. He drags the fabric down, revealing both your breasts to the winter air.

You gasp, trying your best to cover them. A leather gloves reaches to twist one of your buds. His voice is stern, "I'm sorry, what was that?" pulling harshly at the sensitive nub. You yelp from his touch, retreating in hopes that he would halt his actions. You were wrong, instead that bratty tone from earlier, landed you a harsh slap on the chest. His gloves didn't ease the impact. He delivers strike after strike against your bare flesh. Until both buds began to peak on their own.

He fondles them in his hands, eyeing his work, "Nice tits..." he gives both of them a squeeze, pulling them towards him, "Very responsive..." his deep voice now a purr. All you could do was glare back at him with tearful eyes, trying your best not to cry. You hadn't expected a complete stranger to be so cruel. You, a literal thief.

Jackson dips a finger into your mouth. When you try to bite down, he delivers a light tap on your jaw. Holding the back of your head with an iron grip as he points in your face, "Don't even think about it, I'm not joking I'll drag your sorry ass bare naked down the streets," he threatens. His hands reach around your waist. He yanks your pants down to your ankles. Exposing your bottom half to him.

He takes a look at the panties you were wearing. Staring back at the teddy bear print and smirks, "How adorable..." his fingers slide in between your legs, caressing the now slick folds though the fabric. You turned your head to the side to see if any onlookers would pass by. He notices and angles his body to cover your form. He whispers in your ear, "Shh...I just need you to help me, and I'll help you, then we're even," it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

He reaches around the waist of your panties, slowly sliding off your underwear. He groans at the sight of it, licking his gloved digits before sliding them up and down your slit. You whine from the light, sensual touches. He reaches for your opening, collecting any wetness. His breathing increases, as does yours. He captures your bud in his hand, teasing it until you almost lost footing. You grip his shoulder for balance. He chuckles, "Oh you like that, don't you?" he teases. That earns him a harsh slap.

You were done being his little plaything. No more, you weren't going to whore yourself out to anyone. Especially not to some trust-fund baby. His head whips the other way, strands of his hair now dangling against his forehead. His cheek twitches, as if there were a battle going on inside him, "Oh, you've fucked up now..." both his hands are around your neck, squeezing it as hard as he could. You try fighting back, fingers digging into his wrists.

But it was futile, there was no way of stopping him. When your vision begins to blur and grip starts to weaken, he lets go. You cough hysterically, trying your best to breathe again. He waits until you're done with the dramatics. He grips your chin, eyes boring into your own, "That, was a warning," he pushes both your shoulders down until you're on your knees, "This, is your punishment," slotting his foot in between both legs.

He forces you to sit on his leather shoe, tilting your head to look him in the eyes, "Get yourself off," he commands. By now, you know not to disobey his orders. You try testing the waters, the cold leather felt uncomfortable against your bare mound. It was almost unbearable. It takes a while before you collect any slickness. Your ears getting warmer despite the weather.

Rippner chuckles, he retrieves his foot before you've had a chance to finish. He examines his now wet shoe. He sneers, "Really? You're seriously getting off on me using you like this?" a cruel grin plays on his face. He presses his shoe against your bare pussy, he mushes it against the opening, "Of course you'd like that...you're nothing but filth..." his cruel words made you blink back tears. They feel hot gliding down your cheeks. It almost makes him feel bad for doing all of this to you. But then again, you did just try to rob him.

He sighs, "We've got to do something about that mouth of yours," he suddenly unzips his pants, pulling out his half-hard cock. Your eyes bulge at the sight of it, pressing your lips shut in protest. He held his girth in one hand and your hair in the other. Jackson glides his shaft across your face, his leaking tip smears precum on your cheek. He mockingly taps his cock against your lips. His voice is raspy, "Does this make you squirm?" he knew exactly what he was doing to you with those words.

He pinches the bridge of your nose to cut off any air supply, forcing your mouth to open. He doesn't waste any time shoving his member deep inside. His tip now touching the back of your throat. It makes your eyes water. The corners of your lips rip from the stretch of his girth alone. How it could fit, you hadn't a clue. Both his hands grip the sides of your head, as he begins to buck his hips. He groans, "Oh fuck...you feel fucking amazing..." moaning with each thrust.

He stops himself from going any further. He wants to cum inside, but not in your mouth. No, he'll save it for some other time. He pulls you away from his cock and you're an absolute mess. Spit and tears everywhere. He lifts you by the shoulders, pressing you against the brick wall, again. He aims his tip against your cunt. It takes you a moment to process what was happening. Then in a split moment both of your arms shoot out, "N-no! Not there!" You cried, "Anywhere but there!" your voice starts to break.

Even after losing everything, you still didn't want your first time to be with a complete stranger. He could do whatever he wants, just not that. His long fingers wrap around your neck, adding a bit of pressure as he whispers in your ear, "Oh? And why is that?" genuinely curious. Your answer is faint, almost silent. He didn't quite catch what was said, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he held your jaw in place so he could look at you in the face. There was no way, not at your age. Did he hear you correctly?

You were starting to get pissed off, "I said I never fucked before, asshole!" that had you receive a harsh slap on the ass, "Ow! Ow okay! I'm sorry, just stop already!" that explains a lot. How you managed to leave his gloves and shoe soaking wet. As much as Rippner wants to pump a load into that sweet pussy, he decides to save it for later. Instead, he flips you over, your bare chest now against concrete.

Jackson bites his lips. He can't believe he's getting on his knees for someone like you. He parts both your cheeks, spitting at your rim to get it nice and wet. He flattens his tongue, lapping it against the tight ring before thrusting it in. Your knees began to buckle, you use the wall for support. Pressing your face against the brick. He bobs his head to a rhythm, and you can't stop moaning. His tongue reaching deep inside the muscle. His free hand reaches to rub at your clit, while the other pumps his cock.

After a while he stands up, aiming his now leaking tip against the rim, "This is going to hurt, a lot," he starts to enter, pushing inch by inch. You squeal at the stretch. A gloved hand muffles your cries. He began to give short, small thrusts. He grunts from how tight you were. Almost climaxing from the squeeze you gave. He quickens his pace, wrapping his other arm around your waist for better leverage. From there he went on autopilot, ignoring your pleas to slow down. He simply couldn't, he doesn't want to.

Finally, he releases a load deep inside. You felt his hot spunk coating your insides. Your head felt heavy after already reaching your own orgasm. His head hung over your shoulder. His breathe felt warm, "I've been eyeing you for a while, little mouse," It's true, he's been watching you for some time. You had first caught his eye when his chauffer was stuck in traffic. He watched as you went into action. It was remarkable, that talent of yours.

He's been planning this for some time. Today he wanted to see you up close. He had to know more about you. Even asking his ride to drop him off a few blocks. Jackson purposely took this route knowing that he'd get robbed. He needed an excuse to talk to you, his little specimen of interest. He knew the exactly how you would steal from your victims. Although he couldn't feel the hand reaching into his pocket, it was pinch you gave to his side that indicated him the wallet had already been stolen. That was his sign to take over the situation.

His arms are still wrapped around your upper body, hands now playing with your tits, "I'm Jackson by the way, Jackson Rippner," he tells you while still buried deep inside, "You've been targeting this street for a while now, you live around here?" no answer. You downright refused to entertain him any longer. He gasps, "Oh...that's right I completely forgot..." he grips your hips, slowly pulling out his member. He hisses from the feeling. It's almost too good to stop.

He retrieves a napkin from his coat pocket and hands it to you. When you refuse to take it, he isn't mad. Although you were testing his patience. He helps you get changed, satisfied that you kept his load in. Your panties were probably soaked by now. Once the both of you were decent, he asks you again. Yet still, no answer. For that he lands another slap on the same spot. You yelp from the impact, "Here! I live here!" "I know that, but where? This is a shopping district, there aren't any homes in this area, so, answer my question: Where do you live?"

You look out the alleyway to a place across the street. He pulls you in, with an arm now wrapped around your waist. From a distance it seemed as if the two of you were lovers. You guide him to where you've been living in the past few months. Right across the street in a small, worn-out vehicle. Jackson raises a brow, "You live...in a car?" he sounds genuinely surprised.

It's the dead of winter. Not exactly the perfect time to be stuck out on the streets. But it was all you had. You turn around to face him, "Yeah well, some of us don't have daddy's money to get us by..." you scoff. He likes that answer. Good, you wouldn't have anyone to miss you. He grins from ear to ear, tilting his head, "If that's the case, you're coming with me," He drags you to a mysterious black car with tinted windows. Your feet drag against the pavement. You' we're too exhausted to fight back.

It felt uncomfortable trying to find a sitting position. Jackson hops in right after, sitting unbearably close to you. He held you close, like a lover would. He sighs with adoration, "You don't have to worry about your things because I'm keeping you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But no more stealing? Got it?" he'd rather not draw any negative attention your way. Jackson then hums a holiday tune, which one you didn't care. All you could think of was how much you regretted ever stealing from him. He held you close to him, stroking your hair before giving a chaste kiss, "Merry Christmas to me, eh?"

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spidernuggets · 2 months

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Hi hope you’re having a good/night can you do a Jason Todd x detective fem reader. She meets Jason , but she meets him when he’s red hood at a crime scene.

Jason Todd x FemDetective!Reader

"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building."

"Christ, another one?" One of your coworkers said as the limp, dead body was zipped up into a body, and evidence collected and put away.

You shrug a shoulder, writing down in your notepad a list of suspects and witnesses involved in this new murder, which was also linked to other recent killings.

"Adam Matthews." You state the victim's name.

"Drug dealer?" Your coworker asks, looking at the substance that Matthews had on his person being bagged for evidence.

"Mm. He was a cook for a drug dealer who tested on homeless kids or orphans. But Matthews was also known for being an accessory for other murders, kidnappings, and was guilty for sexual assaults," you state, sighing, putting your notebook away.

Your coworker fell shocked. "How the fuck is he not locked up?!" He yells.

"Links with richies," you scoff. "Well, he's dead now. His long, overdue debt it now paid." You always believed these kinds of people never deserved a second chance. All the previous murder victims were similar to Adam Matthews. So, others may call you crazy, but you were thankful for this anonymous killer going out of their way, killing scumbags like Matthews.

"I'm going to scout around the area, Parks," you told your coworker as he nodded and went to discuss with the other officers around the area.

You shone your flashlight around the narrow alleys, searching for any clues or evidence you could use to help solve the crime and catch the murderer. Or in your eyes an anti-hero.

Just as you were about to turn around and return to the scene, you heard grunts and strings of profanity coming from behind one of the dumpsters.

Your hand hovered over your gun in your hip holster, walking towards the sounds.

You swiftly turned to see the source, hand on the handle of the gun, and saw a certain, outlawed vigilante leaning on the dumpster, holding his arm, his body stained with blood.

His helmet lay in between his legs, his domino mask remaining on his face.

"What the fu- Red Hood??" You exclaim.

"You mind?" He groans, holding his hand out, trying to avoid the flash shining in his eyes.

"Shit, sorry," you reoly, turning it off and placing it on your utility belt. Your head tilted to the side, seeing that Red Hood was struggling to wrap his arm up. "It's loose," you say, referring to the bandage- or rag that he was tying around his bicep.

"Wow, really? Didn't- fuck- didn't notice," he says, cursing once more when the bandage fell down.

You roll your eyes, crouching beside his and taking the bandage from his, unwrapping his arm and rewrapping it tighter as it should be.

"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building." You mutter, tying the bandage to stay in place.

"Sorry, little cop lady. Just doing my job." He hisses.

"It's little detrctice lady to you. And I'd appreciate it if you made your little killing sprees a little more discreet. Eventually, the actual cops are gonna catch your ass," you snicker, getting up.

"As if I let them." He bites back.

"L/n. Where are you?" Parks says through your walkie. "Did you find anything?"

Red Hood gets up, putting his helmet back on, looking down at you, waiting for your response.

You click on the button to reply. "No. Nothing here. Coming back now."

The white glowing eyes pierce through yours as Red Hood chuckles. "Hiding a criminal? Haven't taken a look through the law book in a while, but isn't that illegal?" You couldn't see it, but Red Hood grinned, amised at this new encounter.

You shrugged. "I'm only doing this because I know I can't stop you, even if I wanted to. Besides. If these ass rat criminals kept scurrying around, the papaerwork would be much more than you're making." You smirk.

He laughs. "So you're saying you don't want to stop me?" He crosses his arms.

"Have a good night, Mr. Hood." You bid him goodbye, walking back to the crime scene.

"And to you too, little detective lady," he says, quietly hoping to run into again after he puts lead into the head of his next target.

"Jeez, I thought you died or something. You were gone for a while, are you sure you didn't find anything?" Parks quickly asks you.

You quickly wipe away the blood on your palms from Red Hood's wound onto your black jeans. "Save the interrogation for the suspects, Parks. Nothing there but dead rats and graffiti."

You walk off, almost missing the shine of a red helmet running off on the roof of a building in the distance as you smirk to yourself, also secretly hoping Red Hood would cause another casualty to meet him again.

Parks was about to walk off, too, almost missing the tiniest splotch of red on your white shirt as he raised an eyebrow.

I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE IT SO SHORT!!!

I didn't want to leave this ask in my inbox for too long and forget about it 😭😭

BUTTTT if you or anyone else wants!!! I can make a part 2 where Reader and Red Hood begin a constant meetup after every death Red Hood causes (only to those criminals who deserve it, obvi). And Parks becomes suspicious of Reader and threatens her or that Reader's job is put on the line!!!!

I was going to add this idea in, but I'm really bad at making long fics cuz I always wanna get it over and done with and I'm so impatient 😭

HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ANYWAYS 🙏🙏

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jaylleoo14 · 4 months

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A little implied stalking and lightly implied obsessive behaviors + bonus drawings down below :) (but its cute and kinda fluffy!)

Hehehe wouldn’t it be cute to imagine a nerdy pathetic Jade? Ehehehehehe it’s so cute in my head, like just the image of Jade being your typical nerd who just fails to catch anyone’s attention compared to Floyd who’s flamboyant and flaming on the courts. Such a loser he is (but its so cute though!), he even goes to his own secluded place to sit by himself and eat lunch just to listen to the birds singing. But one day, he met someone. Someone who was kind to him and actually engaged in conversations with him (he is delusional and it was only because you two were grouped into a project one time). That person was you! He loved everything about you. The way you spoke so nicely and softly to him, he liked how happy you were when you smiled at him, he liked the way you would button up your shirt so neatly, the way you smelled, what perfume you used, which foot you would put on your shoes first, the way you'd fidget when you got nervous. All of you. He loved you, he adored you, he liked you, he had a big fat crush on you. So when Jade tries to approach you he just fails miserably and is left slightly stuttering and quiet. Floyd definitely hypes him up but he sees firsthand how embarrassing Jade is whenever he tries to talk to you. So Floyd proposes something to help Jade out. Number one, work his confidence! Floyd no doubt has admirers for his looks, but Jades his twin! Jade is just as hot! Take those big glasses off, do his hair more stylish and change up his look! Floyds groaning at how actually miserable Jade looks and it’s kinda sad to see him fumbling around whenever you’re around, but fear not! It’s time to take some lessons from Floyd so Jade can calculate that love meter of yours and have an exact answer on how to win it ;)

This is Jades punk era guys…. HIS PUNK ERA!!!! He is getting that tongue piercing, he is getting those piercings, he is getting that sexy bad boy look!!!! Ahhhh but look at him getting so shy now that he’s looking in the mirror. Jade has always wanted to try this aesthetic of clothing before, but can a nerd like him really pull it off? Floyd definitely slapped his back and reassured him everything would be alright, he just needs some spine and he’ll be fine! He’s made it his goal to try and ask you out because surely after all your conversations you’ve taken a liking to him even just a little, right? (Conversations as in a quick “hi” or “yeah it was nice seeing you too” or just listening in on his little informative and nerdy mumblings about his mushrooms, though he looked quite cute when he did so if you had to admit)

The day has come. Hes going to ask you out! Jade looks nothing like how he usually does. You know, like his usual khaki shirt saying "Kinoko" on it and his stiff blue jeans. His usual plain wear. But now hear he is, looking so much more stylish with that ripped collar and that spiked choker. Real or not, he even got his face and ears pierced. All this just for you. Jade has practiced his lines many times, looking in the mirror and studying his facial expressions. How to carry himself when he walks and most importantly, how to try and win your heart. He remembers all the things you like, and he went ahead and did the honors of getting familiar with them as well.

Ah! There you are, you were there putting your stuff away in your lockers. Look at you, standing there and looking so pretty and captivating even when you try not to be. You just capture his heart so much! Truly a shock to the heart. Calm down Jade, you have to carry this out; otherwise all this effort and practice will be for naught! As he makes his way he proceeds to take a deep breath to calm his nerves and proceeds to call out your name. As you turn towards the source you're a little shocked as to see who this person was. He goes up to you, and with a confident look on his face he goes and greets you. "Hi y/n, how are you?" Though still confused, you give this man a confused stare. "Uh, do I know you?"

The look on Jades face is full of shock and he deflates oh so easily after trying to put up a confident front. Floyd was out hanging with his bros and already did a run down on what to do. As Jade remembers them, he clenches his fists slightly and takes another intake of air through his nostrils. Fixing his posture back to how it was before, he gives you a somewhat timid and shy look; though he is trying to put up that brave front. "Its me.... Jade...Jade Leech." You can say that it was definitely a surprise, well he could tell - judging based on how you reacted that is. "J-Jade?! This is you?! You look so... So different! I mean, you look great! But, what's the special occasion? I mean, you always looked so plain and I didn't think you were into this kind of style." Your surprised and shocked response did make him ease up a little and a little chuckle comes out. "Hehe, thank you y/n. I appreciate it, really. Today is a special day for me actually, and I've always thought these types of clothing would suite me nicely. I'm glad you're pleased with the way I look." He looks so happy and pleased, its so obvious its like seeing him wag his tail happily.

"Oh I see, special how?" With your intrigued question, a little spark is flickered in his eyes. Here it goes, its all or nothing.

"Well you see... Today, i planned on telling you something rather important." He proceeds to take a step closer to you, you can sense that something is going on. As you take a step back, your eyes widen as you hear more on what he had to say. The halls were strangely empty, no one around. it was perfect, the evening sun shines its golden rays through the window and it hits Jades black leather back warmly. "Me?"

"Yes, you." Another step forward. At this point your back hits the lockers with a light metallic clatter, your eyes widening and sweat dripping as you ponder what words he plans to say. "You see, for awhile now there was something I wished to tell you. But I wasn't quite ready, until now that is." His hands slowly go to trap you in between his arms, leaning a bit closer to you to meet your eyes. He was making big moves and you were obviously left stunned. "Y/N, truth is, i've liked you a lot for awhile now. If you will, can I... Be yours to have?"

And well, the rest is up to you to imagine what happens afterwards. Do you accept his confession or do you turn him down? So many things can go down and leaving this open ended is so frustrating sometimes because it really does leave you wondering. Or perhaps you wanted a solid conclusion? Well, one thing for sure is, props for Floyd! He definitely played wingman for Jade, and to add definitely his stylist :3 Just imagine all the times Jade had practiced just to say those simple words to you hehehe, you better answer fast dear readers. Because with Jades new look he definitely has caught some eyes from other people around, not like he'll accept them anyways. Because he only has his heart set on you and you only <333

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betweenlands · 6 months

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It takes exactly two seconds between Impulse looking up at the top of the Secret Keeper and him realizing what he's actually seeing up there to decide he is officially sick and tired of seeing ghosts.

There are seven entire ghosts around the thing today -- a couple appear to be tinkering with the secret delivery mechanisms. Impulse squints at them.

"What are you doing?" he says.

"Trying to figure out how to load more tasks into this thing," one of them replies, kicking one of the blocks with buttons on them. He's got a full beard and some weird green glowing mushrooms poking out of cracks in his face. It's definitely... a look, Impulse will give him that. Very Mycelium Resistance. "But whoever designed it used freakin' command blocks, and you can't even see the randomizer run."

"How many times did your randomizer break again?" one of the other ghosts calls from up on top of the Secret Keeper.

"Never!" the mushroom ghost protests, causing at least two other ghosts to crack up laughing. "It worked completely flawlessly except for user error."

One of the ghosts, someone who appears to have a floating cactus block for a head, snorts. "And programmer error."

"You shut it," the mushroom ghost responds.

"He's not wrong," the more normal-looking brown-haired ghost over by the command blocks says absently, purple eyes clearly focused on trying to trace the wiring back to the actual command blocks.

Impulse just stands there, bewildered -- both because the ghosts are actually talking to him, and also because these are extremely weird ghosts to be talking to who look nothing like anyone he's even vaguely heard of.

"Fine," he says, "you know what, I'll bite. Why are you guys here?"

"Checking in," a ghost sitting on one of the lower rocks says. He's wearing blue and yellow, looks to be a little more transparent than the others. "Y'know, new season and all that?"

Impulse squints at him. "No, I meant, why are you following me?"

"Ohhhh!" The ghost laughs. "Hadn't looked into what you were doing yet, and these guys wanted to see if they could get some of their tasks into the machine, so I just brought everyone along."

"That's not really a good answer," a ghost leaning inside the alcove under the Secret Keeper says. He's got a mask pulled up over his face, though his voice doesn't really sound muffled at all.

"What," the blue and yellow ghost says, "am I supposed to say something like it's because you're one of the people with no hard-and-fast thematic associations to stick to and therefore easier to facilitate a meeting with and freak him out more?"

Impulse squints harder. "Are you guys Watchers?"

The blue-and-yellow ghost snorts. "Hah! That's Martyn's lore, bud, not yours. Nope, nothing to do with the Watchers."

"Aren't you technically--" the ghost in the alcove starts.

"Tsssssshhhhhh," the other ghost replies by way of shushing him aggressively, "spoilers!"

"Alright," the alcove ghost says, spreading his hands in mock defeat, "fine, have it your way. He's right though. Not Watchers."

"Lowercase-w maybe," the brown-haired ghost still inspecting the redstone with the mushroom ghost says, "but otherwise, no."

Impulse is starting to feel like he's wandered into something way above his pay grade.

The alcove ghost snaps his fingers. Impulse notes somewhat absent-mindedly that he has, like, a lot of piercings on one ear. "Hey," he says, "come to think of it, we might be able to help you out with some stuff."

"I swear to God," another ghost says from on top of the Secret Keeper, "if you try to sell another person on your weird coffee god thing again-"

"I wasn't going to!" he responds. "Honest! I was just gonna say, it looks like there's a plains biome here, that means oxeye daisies, that means suspicious stew with regen if you can get a good source of mushrooms."

"Unfortunately," the mushroom ghost says, looking up from where he and the other ghost appear to now be trying to cram books into the ground, "the space for the hearts seems like it just kinda vanishes when people get hit. At least, if I'm not misunderstanding the programming."

"If you're misunderstanding the programming then we're both reading this code wrong," the brown-haired ghost says. "And I'm pretty sure I used something similar here for Dark Path stuff, so probably not?"

"Dang," the alcove ghost says, then tilts his head back towards Impulse. "Maybe make splash poison potions, then? That'll take out a good chunk of someone's health if they can't regen."

"He is green," the cactus-headed ghost says. "Why's he gotta make poison potions right now?"

A shrug in response. "Never hurts to prep early."

The blue-and-yellow ghost leans forward, squinting at him. "Alright," he says, "one of my wisps give you that idea or what?"

Another shrug. "I mean, what if they did?"

"Last time you started listening to his wisps," the brown-haired ghost says, "they told you to try and kill everyone just because I beefed it before the dragon fight."

"It would've worked if you hadn't warned them," the ghost in the alcove replies. "I can't believe you tried to sabotage my attempt at avenging you."

"I can't believe you listened to them in the first place," the blue-and-yellow ghost says. "They're bloodthirsty, they don't really give good advice."

"And I," Impulse says, having inched his way over towards the new task button, "am going to take my task and leave, because you guys are weird."

He hits the button and flips through the taskbook.

"End every sentence said to another player in a question?" he says, squinting down at it.

"You're already doing better than some of us were!" one of the ghosts on top of the Secret Keeper yells down.

"Oh my god, shut up!" the mushroom ghost yells back, and then turns to Impulse. "Hey, by the way, have you considered getting a pet parrot?"

"That's still a bad loophole and you know it," the blue-and-yellow ghost cuts in.

"I heard him just fine," the brown-haired ghost says. "Hey, hang on -- that's one of ours! It worked!"

Impulse decides he's not even going to bother trying to be polite about leaving. He has had entirely enough of these ghosts in particular.

#secret life #secret life smp #impulsesv #gilded hardcore #vikingpilot #this minific brought to you by: gilded is good go watch it #unlike last impulse fic i will not bother with a pretense of it being symbolism. this one is fully because it is funny to me #there's SOME stuff in there if you squint but it doesn't actually have anything to do with impulse #anyway sorting tags time:#yt #txt #solar scraps #solar scrawls #slsmp #gilded #you may have noticed i tagged the blue and yellow ghost. this is because i fear no man. or pronoun stealer for that matter #oh dunk wait i should also tag the others #devonsdesk #thefoolnse #avidmc #and then whimzee and trog are in the background (sorry guys i didn't have the voices down yet)#oh and fun fact about this one. the identity of one of these ghosts is Really Questionable #like just a little bit... it could be him acting weird or it could be something else entirely yknow? something more aware of certain things #but ehhhhhhhhhhhnnnn that's spoilers so who am i to blow up its spot #update josh got a new username so #codeneon

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mischievous-piltovan · 8 months

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Of Atlas and Sisyphus (NSFW)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (soon)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x afab!Reader Themes: Romance, Fluff, NSFW, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn. Word Count: Roughly 8000 words Synopsis: You're a tech-savvy Spider that landed a position in Miguel's lab by tinkering with your gizmo. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't keep a fondness for the man for taking hold, so you've been trying your best to manage your crush with the tools at hand.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel has been dealing with a very similar problem.

An accident during a mission led both of you to face these feelings.

Two headstrong and emotionally constipated idiots can't communicate their feelings despite being over 30.

Trigger Warnings/TWs: blood, wound, piercing damage, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, miscommunication, emotionally constipated idiots, a bit of power imbalance because boss x underling (but ever so slightly), masturbation.

A/N: this started a silly NSFW one-shot but then I needed some yearning to make the sex part feel powerful and now we're here. Oops. Also I was VERY dramatic in my writing, pardon my self-indulgence.

A/N²: Reader's special Spider powers are linked to fire. She uses highly flammable webbing that conducts flames to burn her enemies (without killing them). The source of fire are her palms - they naturally conduct heat. So it's like: she shoots her web from the underside of her wrists and grips the ropes to light them on fire once they latch on an enemy. Anyways, just to clarify. Huge thank you to my lovely beta-readers @uniquedeerwitch @tantei14 and @zaunitearchives for lurking_kitty every single entry on the Discord Server. Part 1 | Part 2 (soon)

「Sisyphus rolled the boulder up the hill everyday so he could become worthy of sharing the weight of the sky with Atlas. Atlas carried the firmament on his shoulders to protect Sisyphus from the monster his plight kept caged - himself.」

"I expected more from you," Miguel said, looking down at you from his lab's platform. His arms crossed over his chest in a commanding instance.

"Miguel, I caught the Anomaly." You protested, annoyance seeping through your words.

"But you almost didn't," he retorted "Had Lyla not warned you, the Anomaly would have escaped your feeble attempt at securing it. You were careless."

"I had everything under control" you rebuked through gritted teeth.

"That wound you sustained begs to differ" Miguel responded, cocking an eyebrow at you. You looked away with an exhale, one hand coming up instinctively to cover the bloodied tear at the side of your suit, right below your rib cage. Had it not been for your accelerated healing factor, the gash the Anomaly left on you would still be very much open and bleeding. At your lack of response, Miguel turned back to his console. "I will accompany you on your next few missions to make sure it doesn't repeat itself."

"Oh the fuck you will," you snapped back at him "It was one mistake, O'Hara! I don't need chaperoning!"

"Until you prove to me you don't, you will have it" He simply responded, his focus on the many screens in front of him. You opened your mouth to protest but gave up before any words came out, there was no point in trying to argue with Miguel. With a loud exhale, you turned on your heels and stormed out of the dark chamber.

As soon as your steps could no longer be heard, Lyla popped up next to Miguel.

"Miguel, I think this has been going on long enough" She stated, looking at where you disappeared.

"Nothing's been going on" He retorted without missing a beat, his eyes still glued to the monitors in front of him.

"Your bio readings say otherwise," She jabbed, bringing up a second screen next to the one Miguel was working on. He looked at it from the corner of his eyes and didn't take much to notice what Lyla was referring to - his heart-rate, oxytocin and cortisol levels were all higher than his usual. He sighed, closing his eyes. At that reaction, she concluded, "It's been like that for a while, but it gets worse whenever you interact with her."

Miguel took a deep breath before responding "It's complicated."

"Lashing out on her won't solve anything" Lyla's words stung. They cemented the guilt he started feeling as soon as you turned around and left. He lost control yet again, a dreadful habit that has been putting down roots whenever you were involved.

"I know," was all he could muster. He could try to explain why he did it, how watching you get hurt stirred the beast inside of him, how he had to fight to keep it chained down yet again as it tried to claw its way out, how the amount of effort to do so has been increasing as its constant struggles had been wearing down its shackles, how on top of that he had to act as your leader, how this whole circus left him with little to no mental capacity to anything else, how his attitude was but an outcome rather than a thought out action. But in the end there was no justifying it, he was wrong.

"You care a lot about her, don't you," Lyla spoke in a softer tone. Miguel took a long breath before responding.

"You could say that."

Miguel had been torn about you for quite a while now. He considered himself intelligent, especially when it came to Genetics and Bio-engineering, but he would be lying if he said he could fully understand his own feelings sometimes. Let alone be aware of them, Lyla was the one who figured it out for him when she noticed a pattern in his biological readings whenever he came into contact with you.

At first he denied it even to himself, rationalizing the good feelings he had towards you as being a matter of fact. You were exceptionally capable, had a formidable intellect and could perform your missions with ease (seconded only by Jess and himself), he felt he could count on you and that in itself was a novelty to him. Sure, you were very easy on the eyes too but he had felt attracted to other Spiders in the Society before, it wouldn't be a first.

But then all thoughts start circling back to you, despite not necessarily having anything to do with you in the first place. Like how he'd wonder what kind of food you preferred whenever he sat down to eat or what season you liked more when he noticed the air getting crisper. He'd start noticing smaller things about you, charming details that encapsulated who you were at your best, like the melodic cadence in your voice whenever you were close to finishing a project at the lab or how small your hands were compared to his.

The last straw came one day on a particular slow morning at HQ, when he went to the cafeteria to grab some coffee and an empanada. He heard the sound of your laughter all the way across the room and the sight that greeted him upon turning towards you was like a punch to the gut: you casually talking to a male Spider while he rested a hand on your shoulder. Suddenly there was anger, dread and a sense of possessiveness overcoming him all at once.

And then there was the 'oh'.

That was the push the metaphorical askew tower he had been piling his conceptions of you needed to finally click into place, every piece neatly connecting together at the same axis - his undeniable infatuation with you.

That's when everything started tumbling down - he didn't know how to navigate these murky waters. He foolishly let it grow unattended, unpruned and now it grew to the point it consumed him. Your presence used to soothe him, now it drove him insane - as if the slow burn of a growing fondness he didn't know he nursed through months blasted him all at once, engulfing him in an overwhelming inferno shaped like you.

His desire was the very next thing that assaulted him, overwhelming his thoughts. He didn't know if it was because of his spliced genes or because he had a tendency to neglect his more primal needs in the face of work, or if it was a combination of both. The matter of fact was - his body screamed for you and he couldn't just ignore it. Your presence at the lab was enough to send him into a spiral in need of release, no matter how hard he tried to push it down. Even just trying to concentrate on his work was futile, your scent plagued him and for the first time in a while he loathed his modified genes that heightened his senses. He lost count of the amount of times he fucked his hand in pursuit of some relief, but that reprieve wouldn't last long. Soon he was snatching whatever personal belongings you left in the lab to bring it to his nose while he tugged at his cock.

All of that because the very idea of offering this onslaught of feelings to you felt wrong. Not simply because of the obvious power imbalance your respective positions in the Society bestowed upon you, but because of who you both were. Despite technically being a Spider-Man thanks to (some) of his powers, he was anything but; Everyday he was faced with countless joyful rays of sunshine, glowing around HQ in the form of different variants of Spider-People, a stark contrast to everything he was. There was no hero in Miguel O'Hara, the fire that burned within him was not the cozy glow of a hearth, but the destructive power of infernal flames; everything about him was demonic, from his talons to his venomous fangs and blood-red eyes. He'd literally take shots to keep his DNA in check as to not lose what little humanity he had left.

He was corruption, ruination… And you didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve that.

But the demon within him desired you, lusted for you, and Miguel gave everything he had to keep it sealed away inside of him. And of course this took its toll, to sustain this control Miguel had to completely change his approach towards you, distancing himself as much as he could while maintaining a somewhat professional facade. Yet, the demon would jump at every opportunity to seize control, and he'd often find himself gravitating towards you and the warm glow of the dynamic you cultivated in the lab, only to pull back as soon as he noticed his short-comings.

Miguel yawned, rubbing his tired eyes as he felt the strain of overwork settling in. He grabbed his mug, taking the last sip of his already cold coffee as he checked the time - 3 in the morning. He groaned, there was still plenty to be done before he could even consider calling it a night. Dejected, he grabbed his empty thermal carafe and made his way to the cafeteria to fill it with more coffee.

However, before he could reach the Lab door, his nostrils were assaulted with a very familiar fragrance - your scent. On pure impulse, Miguel turned on his heel and followed the aroma. Yes, your scent usually lingered a while after you called it a day, but this was different, it was stronger. Soon, he found out the reason why - you were still in the lab.

Resting your head on your crossed arms atop your work station, you slept peacefully as your body gently rose and fell to the rhythm of your breathing. Miguel noticed the project you were working on earlier that day unceremoniously shoved to the side with a myriad of tools in a messy array near it. You must have dozed-off in the middle of working on it.

He took the time to watch you, to commit the scene to memory. As creepy as he felt, there weren't a lot of opportunities he could indulge in just admiring you from afar without worrying about it setting-off your Spider-Senses. Right now in the calm hours preceding the break of dawn, he had you all to himself.

You looked beautiful.

His heart ached with yearning. Your scent in the air added to how serene you looked and his own exhaustion made him desire nothing more than to hold you, to nuzzle your neck and savor your musk as he carried you to the nearest bed only to have a decent night of sleep in each other's arms. To wake-up the next day greeted with your adorable disheveled self in pure domestic bliss. To kiss your puffy lips good morning as he caressed your face, and maybe letting wandering hands escalate it to something more… lecherous.

Miguel left the carafe on the nearest surface as he approached you. Would you like that? Would you give him the privilege of indulging in your most vulnerable state? Would you give yourself to him as he wished to give himself to you? Maybe the only thing keeping it from happening was a leap of faith…

He hovered his hand above your shoulder. Maybe he should do it, all it would take was waking you up and talking to you. Maybe just going straight to physical contact, grabbing your hands in his and pouring everything out in the open. Or taking the risk and kissing you while gently cradling your face. There was no one at HQ right now, even Lyla was busy taking care of surveillance for him, the moment was ripe with opportunity.

But then you let out a little whimper in your sleep, disrupting the steady rhythm of your breathing and Miguel flinched. The shock was enough to snap him out of his daze and he quickly withdrew, harshly reprimanding himself. He had foolishly loosened the leash a bit and that was enough to stir the beast inside of him, as it growled ready to pounce. He had to get away from you.

Miguel rushed out of the lab as fast and stealthy as he could. Once he steadied himself, he sent Lyla to wake you up and send you home. He returned to the lab only after making sure you were gone.

He passed by your empty workstation briefly only to retrieve his carafe, and was greeted with a forgotten article of clothing - your scarf. He grabbed it on a whim and was overcome with an urge to keep it. He knew he shouldn't, but the scarf was intensely doused with your scent and the demon inside of him was agitated. He kept it against his best judgment, it was to keep the monster at bay, he justified.

That night Miguel shamelessly defiled the scarf, keeping one side bunched up against his nose as he used the other extremity to furiously tug at his cock.

He watched helplessly as his relationship with you crumbled, all his own doing for the sole purpose of protecting you from himself. The resentment came in the form of him being a dickhead and the target was more often than not you. Today's mission debriefing just accentuated this reality. He just hoped you would understand.

—-----------------

You didn't.

1… 2… 3… 4…

You counted your reps as you hit the lowest point of your deep squats, inhaling through your nose as you descended, exhaling through your mouth as you ascended, the barbell heavy on your back. In your frustration, you decided to hit the gym area of the Strength and Conditioning Sector at the Society right after you left Miguel's lab to try channeling it into something productive.

You made sure to perform some first aid to your wound, wrapping your torso in bandages to protect it. You hoped that your self-administration of medical attention paired with your accelerated healing would suffice. Up until now, it was working just fine.

5… 6… 7… 8…

The Strength and Conditioning Sector was empty as it usually was at this time - early evening. It gave you the freedom to keep the lights as low as possible, so you could let the soothing image of Nueva York's skyline at night in through the tall glass panels. It helped you calm down.

Today it wasn't doing much to cool your jets though.

9… 10… 11… 12…

This was all so frustrating… He was so frustrating… After all you've done for the cause, after all you've done for him, this is your reward - being treated like you're faulty wiring, an unturning cog. Leave it to boy genius Miguel O'Hara to treat his team as mere assets instead of people.

The amount of effort you've been putting lately to not fuck up, to surgically cover all your bases has been gargantuan, of course you'd end up faltering. You should've known your energy would start running out at some point, but ignoring your body signals and underestimating the impact of prolonged periods of time neglecting your needs, all for the sake of efficiency and productivity had basically become second nature. Add that to the fact that Miguel has had his eyes trained on your every movement lately, it was a matter of time when you'd slip and he'd catch it.

All of that because you were far too stubborn to simply confront him as to why he started being an ass out of the blue.

13… 14… 15… 16…

Not to mention how all this commitment was relayed towards a cause you didn't fully believe in - Miguel's Canon Event Theory. Of course you wanted to help people, - you were a Spider-Woman after all - and working towards assisting as many people as possible was definitely ideal, but the CET wasn't that. The amount of holes and questions unanswered bothered you, gaps that could very much disprove the Theory altogether.The fact that all Spider Society's collective effort was channeled towards it was troublesome at best.

You brought it up to Miguel after your first few months as a member of the Society, but he just shrugged it off. As time went by you began to understand - it wasn't a theory, but a hypothesis. A hypothesis born from the crippling guilt of a man who lost everything. An ill-rationalization of his misfortune that he used as a coping mechanism.

And then you began to understand him. And that's where your problems started.

17… 18… 19… 20…

Miguel O'Hara - tall, handsome man, with an intellect to die for. Miguel O'Hara whose sharp cheekbones and dry sarcasm pierced you every time you interacted, even more than his fangs could. Miguel O'Hara who, under all that brooding persona had a sad, lonely individual who would surface briefly in the fleeting moments of stillness you two shared. Miguel O'Hara who had your heart between his talons and he didn't even know it.

It all started after your first day at HQ. As soon as you got back to your own dimension, you sat down at your desk with your shiny new watch and your handy tool box and began disassembling the portal device. You were mesmerized with Nueva York and the technology the year 2099 held and, as an Engineer, you were dying to get a better grasp at its intricacies. After you were happy with your tinkering, you reassembled it back together as if nothing ever happened, completely unaware that the device held a security system that had already sounded an alert back at HQ.

The next day you were promptly summoned to Miguel's Lab. After a good scolding that made you believe you'd certainly be kicked out, you were surprised to be offered a position as Miguel's assistant in his Lab. The prowess you showed in dealing with a technology so removed from your own reality proved him you were the person he was looking for - turns out having to deal with broken watches from the numerous of daily casualties every day was taking too much time and effort and he was in need of someone to handle this menial task for him. Golden chance to dive even deeper in this new technology, of course you accepted.

Big mistake.

The days passed and what started with an acknowledgement you definitely found him attractive, turned into a little crush. Your stupid lizard brain began craving his attention and you'd find yourself panicking a bit whenever you two interacted.

That's when you decided you needed to nip this feeling to the bud.

You used your gathered knowledge of 2099's technology and the tools at your disposal to develop and build your own project - a device to automate the process of fixing watches.

"It's simple: it assesses the type of damage in this scanner, sending the information to its own database, while also devising the best solution to each case" you said as you showcased the device to Miguel and Lyla "It then either remove and replace the damaged part OR discards the whole watch, amalgamating and recycling the materials to produce a new one entirely."

"Impressive!" Lyla responded. Miguel only hummed, his eyes slowly scanning the machine in front of him. You had hoped that by automating your job you'd no longer be needed in the Lab and thus would be able to distance yourself from Miguel and prevent any feelings from further blossoming.

Turns out that the best employee is seldom rewarded with more work.

"I have some projects that are… stalled at the moment," Miguel said after a while "It would be very beneficial to have someone to bounce ideas off of some of them."

It would not be long before the silly infatuation grew into raw and unapologetic love, and you hated every second of it.

You hated how he made you feel like a teenager in love again, the very prospect of seeing him filling you with a mixture of elation and anxiety. How you could easily spot him in the crowd, proof that your subconscious was actively seeking him. Despised how your gaze would automatically land on his back whenever you got distracted from whatever you were working on at the lab (and you would mentally slap yourself back to work once you realized it). Detested how the most innocent of touches, such as the accidental grazing of his hand on yours sent bolts of electricity through your whole body, making you yearn for more.

And you'd think there was some respite once you got to the safety of your home, away from the very source of your torment… Yet, it was in the stillness of familiarity that the risqué side of this infatuation took hold. Your mind wandered to him, wondering how it would feel to touch his bare skin, to trace every curve and crevice of his toned body massaging the stress of the day away. Would he enjoy it? Would he let out little sighs or loudly groan as you worked the knots away? Oh, how you'd like to help him relax, gently coaxing him to release all that pent-up tension in you.

Your hand would snake down the hem of your underwear almost on its own as the thoughts became more salacious. The whole ordeal only made facing him the next day even harder.

Miguel O'Hara had the power to turn you into the most pathetic version of yourself without moving a muscle. And for that he could never find out about any of this, the very thought utterly mortifying.

So you decided to pour all your feelings, all that love you harbored for him into the one thing you could do about it - assisting him. Becoming worthy of sharing the weight of the Multiverse he carried on his broad shoulders. You studied the multiverse in all its intricacies to the point of proposing viable solutions to eventual conundrums. You used your newfound knowledge of 2099's tech to hone your own equipment and even underwent an ongoing restricted training routine and diet in order to optimize your body for better performance during missions. All of that to help make his life easier, if only for a fraction.

But that alone couldn't shield you from the roller-coaster that was navigating the pull of your feelings against the pull of your rational mind. On a particularly difficult day, you reluctantly decided to ask Lyla to help you on a (non-ideal and very unhealthy) solution you had been marinating in the back of your head for a while.

"Lyla, do you have a minute?" You called out for the AI on your watch. Her little orange sprite appeared instantly.

"What 's up?" She asked cheerfully. You swallowed hard before speaking again.

"I need your help with something," you said in a whisper. Miguel wasn't around, but you decided to be extra careful all the same "But Miguel can't find out."

"I know he has granted you full access to all my features, but he can override the secrecy protocol if he so wishes," She responded "I cannot guarantee he will not know it."

"It's all right, It shouldn't pique his interest unless you bring it up to him," You said "Could you avoid that?"

"Sure thing." She agreed.

"Very well… " You said, pausing to take a deep breath "I need you to find a Miguel O'Hara variant in my dimension."

"Oh" Lyla exclaimed before a knowing grin made its way into her features "Ooooh, I knew it! You have the hots for Miggy!"

"Shhh, keep it down!" You urged her "Yes, and he can't know that. I just need a way to channel this into something else… Into someone else."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just confess to him?" Lyla said matter-of-factually "We don't need to buy a new Miguel, honey. We have a Miguel at home."

"Don't be absurd," you answered, ignoring her joke "I'll be lucky if he just laughs at my face."

"Your call," Lyla yielded.

In the end she couldn't find a Miguel variant alive in your dimension. And so your plight continued with no end in sight and a lot of damage to your psyche.

21… 22… 23… 24…

But recently, something changed.

What was a relatively amicable relationship you and Miguel shared before started turning sour seemingly out of nowhere. The usual sarcastic banters you two engaged with whenever you worked together in the lab disappeared, his tone shifted to something more distant, akin to professional and he rarely ever left his platform anymore.

It's not like the two of you were particularly close before, he was your superior after all, but there was a level of mutual understanding that had blossomed from your shared work at the lab when the ordeal of monitoring the Society quieted down a little. It was a friendship between peers of the same interest, the exchanges ripe with dry sarcasm and teasing. Sometimes even flirty (or so you thought).

"You have my condolences …" Miguel spoke approaching from behind you, the tone in his voice a harbinger of mockery. But still, you took the bait.

"And why, pray tell, is that?" You asked, turning on your stool while pulling your protective goggles up to face him.

"The educational system in your dimension truly failed you, did it not?" He bent his torso over the desk you were working on, a hand on it supporting his weight, his other hand on his hip. With him closer, you could clearly see the smirk he casted at you. You rolled your eyes, bracing for the impact.

"Why would you think that?"

"Oh, it is very clear to me you can't read since you're blatantly ignoring the safety protocol from the manual I gave you for the usage of the very tool you're holding."

"Eat shit, O'Hara," you playfully smacked his abdomen with your elbow. "I read the protocol but this way of using it is way more efficient and safe all the same and you know it."

"Oh, you're the expert now then? I should be having you writing the documentation on tool usage instead of having you working the machinery huh?"

"You know you need me here, O'Hara." You smugly quipped, looking at him… but he didn't promptly respond. You watched his eyebrows rise up at your words, his burgundy eyes searching yours for something you couldn't quite catch while the tension his pause bestowed made you start worrying your words might have been misinterpreted. Even worse was that little delusional part of you that made you believe such an action held any semblance of reciprocation to your feelings.

After what felt like an eternity he spoke again. His voice dripped with something sweeter, but still with the familiar tinge of spice your banters usually carried "I'm certain you're the one that needs me."

The abrupt end to this dynamic would have saddened you. Heck, it'd have somewhat relieved you at the prospect of some reprieve from your roller-coaster of emotions… If it wasn't for his new constant surveillance.

Miguel started to watch you like a hawk, analyzing your every move under a microscope, never missing a chance to criticize or nitpick whatever you were doing. Suddenly your work at the lab wasn't as efficient, the missions you went on didn't produce as many good results and even the way you addressed the other Spiders wasn't ideal.

All that pent-up frustration of navigating your feelings for him became good fodder for the shift in your own tone. You couldn't help but become petty, picking fights at every chance you had.

"I already told you are using that tool wrong," came a baritone voice from behind you.

You sighed, pulling up your protective goggles. The ire inside of you was already boiling, readying you for the imminence of combat. "And I already told you this is a more efficient way to use it."

"You are going to hurt yourself if you keep at it" He responded. His own tone getting stricter.

"I need to get this done by the end of today and this way of using it significantly cuts time," you insisted. Voice picking volume while you smacked every word with venom. "And speaking of time, you are very much wasting mine, O'Hara. So it would be everyone's best interest if you could kindly fuck-off."

Before you knew it, you started resenting him. Whenever he complained about your endeavors, you spat back at him, seldom escalating the situation. At times your bickering would turn into a shouting contest, the noise reverberating outside the Lab. More often than not you felt the urge to lunge at him during these fights, to pin him to the ground and shut him up - you just couldn't figure out if it was with a kiss or a punch across the jaw.

And today only served to rub more salt on the wound.

25… 26… 27… 28…

On a mission you thought you had wrapped up well enough, you paid a little less attention to the aftermath and the Anomaly broke free, piercing you with a sharp projectile. Lyla's sudden warning was the only thing that kept your enemy's attack from striking a more vital area. You were able to dislodge the bolt and recapture the Anomaly, this time being able to bring him with you to HQ. But Lyla's appearance meant only one thing: Miguel was watching you. And he had a front row seat to your failure, the scolding from before was practically a given… But still made you fume nonetheless.

You poured every single bit of you into this man and his Society, was it not enough? What could you possibly be doing wrong to prompt this keen surveillance out of him? Couldn't he just tell you instead of intensively watching you as he waited for an opportunity to belittle you once you inevitably fail? To put you to the test despite everything else you've done for the Multiverse so far? Was that even a failure? You caught the Anomaly and brought it here. Your mission was a success. It was an undeniable success. It was a GODDAMN SUCC…

"ARGH!"

The sound of the barbell hitting the floor behind you echoed through the empty room. You fell to your knees, grasping the bandages over your wound as you felt a warm liquid seep through it - blood.

You got careless. Again.

As your mind wandered and the anger of your pent-up frustration took over, the conscious effort to keep tension away from your midsection to avoid exerting unnecessary pressure on your wound faltered and the extra weight you held forced it open once more. So much for training to better the body.

It didn't matter, your accelerated healing factor would fix this… in time. With a resolute exhale, you got up and decided to wrap up your training for the day. As long as Miguel didn't find out about this mishap and it didn't affect your performance, it should be OK.

It WOULD be OK. You were gonna make sure of it.

—-----------------

Your mission the next day was brought directly to you at your doorstep.

"Good morning, Sunshine!"

You woke up in a jolt as Lyla's sprite sprung from your watch at your bedside table, bathing your otherwise dark bedroom in a yellowish glow.

"Lyla! What was that for?" You barked, voice still raspy from sleep. The tell-tale warm brightness announcing the morning's arrival was nowhere to be seen, meaning it was very early. Too early to have HQ calling you.

"Get ready. We tracked an Anomaly in your Universe, a Green Goblin variant" the AI said, her usual playful tone gone "Miguel's on his way here."

You groaned as she disappeared, your first mission right after being put on probation and it started at an ungodly hour in your very own dimension. You maneuvered yourself out of bed and was bitterly reminded of your wound as soon as you tried to rotate your torso, the pain flushing the rest of sleep out of your system. Today you learned your superhuman healing factor couldn't miraculously stitch together a deep wound overnight, especially one you foolishly tore open a second time.

For a moment you debated if it was wise to throw yourself at a mission in your current state, but you swatted that thought out as fast as it came to you. They'd be able to summon another Spider to this mission no problem if so you wished, but you couldn't possibly give Miguel the satisfaction of learning you were careless enough to not only sustain an ugly wound, but also made it worse by being stubborn. Not to mention the utter distaste at letting him and someone else save your dimension in your stead - not happening. You could manage a little pain, you just needed to be careful.

You changed into your suit and equipped your gear as fast as you could and soon you were on your apartment's building rooftop. You were greeted by Miguel's back as he scouted your New York's (Santa Iorque) skyline. You loathed the blooming fondness, the heartache the sight still caused you.

"Go back to HQ, O'Hara. I'll handle this one myself," you spat. He turned his head slightly, the eyes in his mask narrowing down.

"You don't get a say in this" he retorted.

"Fine. Try not to get in my way, then" you jabbed, walking over to his side. You could feel Miguel shifting a little as you scanned the horizon for any sign of the Anomaly.

"Lyla, what's his location?" Miguel spoke to his watch.

"Still working on it," the AI responded, her sprite typing on a little computer "I'm experiencing a lot of interference, the cause is still unknown."

"What do you mean interfe– "

Before Miguel could finish, the loud bang of an explosion ripped through the air, leaving behind an expanding cloud of greenish smoke. You and Miguel briefly nodded at each other before rushing towards it.

Spotting the perpetrator wasn't hard. Cruising above a crescent-shaped hovercraft stood a figure you could only describe as a techno-imp with jester undertones. You jumped over them as they threw a second explosive, intercepting its trajectory mid-air with your hand, and launching it skyward as you landed on a rooftop nearby. The greenish explosion almost looked like fireworks.

"Well, that's what I'd call a ban… ugh, nevermind," you turned to your very annoyed opponent, if the frown on his display-like mask was anything to go by "Look, I'm not in the mood for snarky banter, so let's get this over wi–"

Your Spider-senses kicked in just in time for you to dodge a barbed javelin-like metal bolt. The sudden movement made your wound hurt, causing you to hold back a gasp. Miguel's red webbing ensnared the Goblin before they could fire a second one and just like that it seemed like the mission was over.

But the Goblin's right feet move to a button on his hovercraft and the next thing you know a piercing high-pitched noise reverberated all around you. Miguel's webbing glitched a few times before disappearing and you watched him panicking as his stupid holo-suit started glitching as well.

In a less tense moment maybe you'd feel embarrassed about his now half-exposed torso, but the Goblin's disappearing from your field of view proved more concerning. Suddenly, your senses kicked in again and you quickly glanced at the scene of a very distracted Miguel trying his hardest to revert - or at least stop - his forced undressing as the Goblin reappeared behind him, quickly closing in with their javelin gun ready to shoot.

You panicked. Miguel had his attention elsewhere, the piercing noise completely muffled the sound of his incoming attacker and he didn't have Spider-senses to alert him.

You had to save him.

On instinct, you lunged yourself in their direction, shooting your own web at the Goblin. But they spotted you, redirecting his aim, while you set the flying ropes of web ablaze. It all happened in a second, the web ensnared then just as they shot the javelin, your fire rapidly consuming the web until reaching the Goblin, the flames briefly engulfing them. You tried dodging the javelin again, but the whole ordeal was too much for your wound, the pain roused enough to snatch your attention for a millisecond, the exact amount of time you had to move away from it.

You didn't move away from it.

The javelin pierced the spot under your ribs right where your wound was. You fell on the rooftop with a loud thud, rolling a few times before stopping, leaving a trail of blood behind. You managed to open your eyes to see the Goblin hovering away in retreat and Miguel turning his head to you having seemingly managed to fix the glitch in his suit. You watched realization kicking in him as the eyes on his mask widened.

"¡Puta madre!" Miguel shouted as he flinged himself to your bent over form."This is why you can't go on missions by yourself."

"What?" You barked in pure incredulity, despite the searing pain below your rib cage "This is gah –…this is your fault!"

"How is this my fault?" He retaliated, crouching beside you as he tried to assess your wound. You swatted his hand away before he continued "You're the one who got careless. Again."

"I was protecting you, you mmnph–" you scrunched your face midsentece trying to get up, the motion sending another flash of pain through your system. Miguel tried helping you again, but you held his wrist in place before he could touch you. You had a point to make "You ungrateful fuck! Your lack of Spider-Sense was gonna be the end of you. This literally wouldn't have happened if you weren't here."

"You talk big for someone bleeding out" he retorted, freeing himself from your grip. His movement accidentally made you lose balance and you had no strength in you to regain it in time, but Miguel caught you before you hit the floor "Lyla, send someone to pick her up and take her to the Med Bay."

"Don't you dare… " you tried sounding assertive, but the pain reduced your voice to a whimper at best. Wound or no wound, you still had a mission to finish.

"¡Por dios! Can you quit being so stubborn for five minutes?" He spat back at you "¡OYE, LYLA! I need assistance!"

But once again the AI didn't respond. Miguel groaned in frustration and tried his best to dial the commands on his watch while holding you as you tried your best to trash your way out of his grip. But no matter what he did, the gizmo's only response was a continuous static noise paired with a greenish blank screen "¡Que carajo! Why's this thing not working?? LYLA! Can you hear me?"

Miguel groaned again, considering his options. You were losing a considerable amount of blood and the Anomaly was nowhere to be seen. He picked you up with one arm, trying his best to not jolt you.

"O'Hara… put me down," you complained, but there was no force to back it up. You started feeling light-headed on top of the pain.

"Shut-up," save your strength he meant to say, but that would convey more than he felt necessary. There was no time for frivolities and sentimentalism, he needed to act fast. With Lyla and his team off-line, his best option would be taking you back home.

He tested the integrity of his neon-red webbing, but it was no use - the quick work he did to stop his suit from fully disintegrating was crude at best, he was grateful to at least have prevented its meltdown in time to not be left completely exposed. He retracted his suit from his fingertips up to his wrist, getting his organic web shooters free - its string wasn't as strong as the neon-red artificial ones, but for aerial traversion it would more than suffice. Miguel positioned your torso over his shoulder with care, hugging your legs together with an arm (a part of him painfully aware of how soft your thighs were) and jumped off the rooftop, slinging himself away to your apartment.

You hated how comforting the warmth of his body was against your own, how his scent, a mixture of oak, spices and his own musk, was undeniably helping soothe the woes of your current predicament. The gentle way in which he held you, taking extra care to keep your body from wobbling too much while he carried you made your heart ache almost more than your wound was. It was in times like these, when his stoic facade faltered, giving way to the caring and sensible self underneath, that you remember why he held your heart.

Soon, you arrived at your apartment building. Miguel climbed through your bedroom window, gently placing you on your bed. He took the cover off of one of your pillows, handing it to you.

"Here, press this against your wound to stop the bleeding," he said, the mask of his suit retracting to reveal his angled face "Do you have a first-aid kit?"

"I–, y-yeah, it's in the cabinet under the bathroom sink," you answered. Taking the cover from his hand, you quickly folded it in half and did as he told you, wincing a bit at the contact. Miguel was back with the medical box not long after.

"You'll have to let me take a look at it," he said, placing the box on the bed next to you. His words were demanding, but the tone conveyed nothing of the sort - it was a question, he was asking for permission.

"Y- yeah, of course," you answered, uncovering your wound. Miguel kneeled next to bed getting closer while bringing his hands to your torso. You watched entranced the furrow in his brows as his red eyes darted quickly left and right, his digits gently probing the area around the wound.

"Doesn't seem to have pierced anything serious," he muttered "But it's odd…"

It was your time to furrow your brows "What is?"

"The wound from yesterday should've be in a more advanced state of healing," he said "you do have the hastened healing factor in your power repertoire."

You tensed a bit, looking away. The last thing you needed right now was him finding out about your mishap at the Conditioning and Strength sector yesterday. But of course, Miguel being Miguel caught that little shift in your body language.

"What happened?" He asked right away, bringing his eyes up to you without lifting his head.

"There was… an accident yesterday," you began, trying to find the words. As much as you didn't want him finding out about the Gym incident, there was no point in lying. Better try to soften the blow "Exerted myself too much and the wound reopened."

"Dios mio, that's why the gash was so deep…," Miguel mumbled under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose "Why the shock were you exerting yourself when you should have been resting?"

A surge of anger started blooming in your chest at his inquiry. It was risky to go into a training session with your wound, you knew that. You also knew there were a million other ways to blow off steam if that was all it was to it. But increasing endurance, enhancing conditioning, building up muscle - all of these were connected to improvement. This self-imposed never-ending quest for leveling up all in the name of helping Miguel, in an attempt to placate your feelings for him.

All for him.

Maybe you should have stopped to consider your well-being instead of going straight to the brawny way of amping-up yourself. There ought to be something else that could mindlessly soothe your nerves while also working as a method of improvement - the way exercising often did -, but yesterday you weren't exactly thinking. There was no bandwidth left to think, you were just so fucking tired.

Tired of putting so much effort in the pursuit of the right to share the weight of the responsibility he carried. Tired of seeing your comfortable platonic relationship you two once shared start to wane seemingly out of nowhere, despite all your efforts to prove yourself worthy of his good graces. Tired of how, despite all of this, your heart stubbornly kept yearning for him.

You were in dire need of respite.

"This is such bullshit," you croaked, clenching your palms into fists.

"What did-," Miguel couldn't finish. With a loud exhale, you shoved Miguel's hands away from you while throwing your legs down the other side of the bed. You hurled yourself up, the adrenaline from your anger fueling your body was the only thing keeping the pain and dizziness at bay.

"I'm done. I quit Spider-Society," you barked through gritted teeth, making your way to your wardrobe while pressing the pillowcase to your wound. You knew you had some strong compression tape in there that should keep yourself from bleeding out until you were done with the mission "I'm catching the goddamn Anomaly. I'm not letting my universe get nuked today, but after that I'M FUCKING DONE."

"Stop! Get back here, you're in no condition to be moving around like that. Let alone finish this mission."

"I don't give a shit about what you think," you barked back, rummaging through your wardrobe. "I'm still this dimension's one and only Spider-Woman. I have a duty with these citizens and I'm gonna protect them."

Suddenly, you felt your wrist being held. You turned around only to meet Miguel's eyes. But instead of finding irritation you found… helplessness.

"Please, stop… " the abrupt shift of tone in his voice chipped at your rage. There was caution, fear and a bit of… desperation? It made you pause, if only for pure bewilderment.

"Why should I?" the flames of your ire had been subdued, but the heat of the ember underneath still burned hot "Our priority is catching the Anomaly and safeguarding this dimension."

He exhaled, casting his eyes down to where his hand met your wrist. When he brought them back to meet your gaze, you were presented with his familiar stoic frown "You're going to jeopardize this mission in your current condition."

There it was, the spark to reignite your wrath.

"Shut the fuck up, O'Hara," you snapped, yanking your wrist away from his grasp. "I don't care about your mission, I just need to catch that Anomaly and save my city." You turned to him, angrily pointing at his chest, "YOU shouldn't be here. YOU are also an Anomaly! Get the FUCK out of here, O'Hara. I'm DONE being your silly little plaything!"

The knot in his brow softened a bit at your words.

"You're not my plaything." He uttered, a bit unsure.

You stiffened, your eyes unfocused darting left and right contemplating the stuff you just said. You bitterly realized that in your fury, you had let out more than you needed to. You searched his face for disgust or discomfort but found a concerned confusion in his eyes.

Swallowing your pride, you decided to press on.

"I'm so tired, Miguel," you muttered in a long exhale "I've been trying so hard, working so much to help keep the multiverse safe… But it feels like the more I do, the worse you treat me." You felt your legs start getting wobbly as the adrenaline waned down, but you had a point to make. "No matter how hard I try, you tell me everything I'm doing is wrong…" you let your hands fall to your sides as the dizziness came back full throttle. With half-lidded eyes, you met Miguel's face once again before muttering "Why am I… even… here…"

"Because I need you"

You barely registered Miguel's response before you collapsed. The last thing you remembered was him rushing to your side as everything became black. ---------------------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (soon)

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animeyanderelover · 9 months

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Can I have yandere sakamaki and mukami cast with older brother that are always gentle and treat them so nicely. But one day when they try to find him. one day, they saw their brother fighting somebody and that person saw them and tried to attack them. Reader decide to shield them using his body. In the end reader get badly injured but survive nonetheless.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, clinginess, paranoia, blood, violence, torture, death

As long as you're safe...

Shu Sakamaki

🎵 Shu just wants to hang out with his brother, the person he's closest with but strangely enough he can't find you in the mansion. Now, Shu doesn't worry his head too much, it isn't unlikely for his brother to be outside though so he simply ventures the exterior of the Sakamaki property. His keen senses pick up surely enough some noises, under them the clearly recognizable voice of his brother and that's when he suspects that something is going on and he starts running to the source of the voice, slight panic dwelling up inside his chest. When he spots you, his heart drops as he realizes that you're fighting someone, a silver knife shining in their hand as they try to stab you. Your younger brother stops for a moment in his steps, tries to work out quickly how to help you but unfortunately he's spotted by the hunter who kicks you away and switches his target, storming to him. Knife about to plunge into his chest only for you to protectively hug him, the sharp metal embedding itself in your back over and over again. The taste of your blood pungent in the air as silent yet potent shock pulses through Shu's entire body, hands flying to your back only to pull back as if he's burnt himself, palms stained in dark red.

🎵 A piercing scream fills the air when Shu grabs the arm of them when they try to stab you again, breaking it in one swift motion and kicking the knife away as soon as they let it drop. Blue eyes dark with the desire to kill as he carefully lies you down on your stomach, gaze fixed on the vampire hunter. He wants to hurt them so badly but knows that he can't waist time since you need medical treatment. One hand is wrapped around their throat as he squeezes down, a sickening crack before they go limp in his hand and he drops them carelessly before quickly turning to you, half-conscious. You give him a half-hearted grin as you compliment him on his nice murder yet Shu has other worries, doing his best to maintain his fear as he helps you to stand up, hurrying back into the mansion with you so that your injuries can be treated. He's so disappointed and frustrated with himself as he blames himself. He could have done more. If he would have acted quicker, none of this would have happened. Why is he still so incapable after all those years? He isn't a child anymore. He finds himself hovering near you after that incident a lot more, especially during the healing process of your injuries.

Reiji Sakamaki

☕ You're late for an appointment with him, a study session which Reiji likes to do with you together as a way to boast his own intelligence and gain your compliments. You're always punctual so this is definitely odd, he doesn't believe that you'd just dismiss him so there must be a reason. That's how Reiji finds himself searching for you around the mansion, passive-aggressive when none of the other brothers can answer his question of where you are at the moment. That is the point where he starts to worry as he enters the surroundings of their estate. Catching you in the middle of a fight throws him off-guard as he eyes the dagger shimmering in the moonlight and the few scratches you already have. It's the fact that you're slightly injured that disturbs him, you've always been this untouchable individual in his eyes. How can you be hurt? It's in this frozen state that the hunter attacks him only for you to shield him, knife driving itself in your chest before you kick them away with brutal strength, surely rupturing a number of organs. When you turn around to ask Reiji if he's alright, his eyes can't remove themselves from the rapidly growing blood spot on your shirt.

☕ He's in total shock as essentially his belief of this strong and untouchable brother in his head is shattered seeing him wounded like this, holding himself together despite the lethal injury. When Reiji eventually snaps out of it, he has troubles holding back his dwelling panic as he pushes you back into the mansion into his own chambers, ordering you to lay down on his bed, unbotton your shirt and let him bandage and stitch your injury. You try to overplay it, tell him it's fine which only seems to make him snap more as he nearly yells at you to do as he says, hands slightly trembling as he collects everything he needs. If even one of the other brothers tries to peek inside his room, he shouts at them to leave, composure crumbling a he spends the next hour stitching the wound together. It's a shattering experience, seeing that you aren't indestructable, soon after the insecurities come as he realises that he's the one who is responsible for your injury, for the long scar that'll be a reminder of it for eternity. It throws him into a fit of despair. He searches outside for the hunter, half-alive at this point and staring with blury eyes up at Reiji. Oh, he will make sure that this human will pay dearly for this.

Ayato Sakamaki

🥇He's rushing through the mansion, a basketball in his hands as he wants to challenge you to yet another game in hopes of beating you but can't seem to find you. It's frustrating, where are you? It's so boring without you around after all, only you can provide him with a good challenge. He gets visibly more agitated the longer he can't find you, plans to brattily yell at you as soon as he has found you because you weren't where he wanted you to be. That all is wiped off his mind when he finally does find you, in the middle of a serious fight with a vampire hunter who has sneaked inside the compound of your property. Ayato acts unfortunately without thinking as he aggressively launches at the person who dares to try to take his brother away from him, underestimating their reflexes. A knife that was intended to pierce through his stomach is instead stuck in your abdomen as you spit moments later some blood out, some of it dropping on Ayato's face. A few seconds just pass by where he sits on the ground, staring at the soaked fabric of your clothes before he sees literally red, head pounding with wrath. How dare they? How dare they?!

🥇He isn't fully himself, lost in searing anger as he grabs the hunter by their throat and pushes them to the ground, kicking and throwing them angrily around as he keeps shouting at them, his whole body shaking with rage and sadistic blood lust. You stop him after a while, point out how the human is barely alive anymore and decide to end things quickly as you break their neck, knife still stuck in your stomach. He's confused and angry, not sure what to do now as he watches his older brother picking up the basketball, tossing it to him and jokingly telling him that he fears that he can't play with his younger brother now before staggering on his feet, causing Ayato to rush over and quickly support him. Fear is pumping through his veins as he yells at his brother what he is supposed to do now before being told what to do, dragging Reiji as a result out of his own room to assist the oldest sibling in removing the knife and stopping the blood loss quickly. A part of Ayato blames himself for what happened, the other one rejects those feelings of guilt as he decides to blame anyone else besides himself. His stupid brothers, that dead hunter and even his own brother who is supposed to be the strongest.

Kanato Sakamaki

🧸 Kanato is a walking time bomb without his brother around since he is co-dependent and relies on his brother a lot. You missed a tea party with him and Teddy so he's beyond livid, clutching the plushie tightly in his arms as he storms around the mansion in search of you. How could you just ditch him?! You're a terrible older brother, you're supposed to take care of him! No matter how had he searches, he can't find you though so that only worsens his mood and soon he starts screeching your name, anger and anxiety piling up inside of him as he can't find you. It's only when he goes into the garden that he spots you and shouts your name, noticing a moment later the stranger next to you who you're fighting against. His loud and obnoxious voice draws both yours and their attention to him and as you call Kanato's name out shocked, the vampire hunter instantly switches his targets, planning to attack him and leaving Kanato clutching his Teddy even tighter. You stop them before they can reach your younger brother, although only moments later their knife is driven into your abdomen, the attacker twisting it around and eliciting a painful hiss from you.

🧸 The scent of your blood tears Kanato out of his state of shock and suddenly he's grabbing the assaulter from behind by the neck, crying and yelling at them that they should never hurt his brother and that they should die. His older brother uses the distraction to pull the knife out and ram it into their own heart, killing them. Kanato is in a frenzy though, blood lust still there as he grabs the knife and continues to stab them, tears in his eyes as he screams for them to die and it isn't until his brother pulls him back that he stops, only to cling onto his blood-stained shirt and start crying hysterically as he tries to stop the bleeding by himself, coating himself in his brother's blood as a result. You're forced to walk back with him clinging to you like a little koala, hissing and crying the moment you try to pull him off you. He isn't of good help but you luckily you can cater to your wound all by yourself, leaving Kanato with you to avoid the boy entering a frenzy mental breakdown. Needless to say, your younger brother is half-distraught and half-angry with you, his presence suffocating from that day on as he demands you to stay from now on with him, threatens to hurt himself otherwise.

Laito Sakamaki

🎹 Laito may not be as permanently clingy as some other brothers are but he still likes hanging around with you. Usually he always has a good idea of where you are so it's a bit of a surprise for him to not know where you are as of now. Well, let's find his older brother then~ Initially it's a bit like a game of hide and seek for him as he wanders through the Sakamaki property in order to find you but the fun ends when his ears pick up the noises coming from the garden, sounding like a fight is going on as he recognizes your low growls you only use when you're serious. His expression falters as he now rushes to the location the sounds are coming from only to stumble into the middle of a fight between you and a vampire hunter who somehow has gotten inside their property. He isn't as hot-blooded as Ayato would be though, green eyes observing as he hides himself to find a good opening to join you in your fight and get rid of the pest. The hunter is experienced though and spots Laito, instantly storms towards him as he recognizes that he's weaker than the other vampire he's fighting against right now. Your calmness falters for a moment as you see them attacking Laito, letting your guard down for a moment.

🎹 His brother shields him in time but the price is a knife rammed in his ribcage, taking him off-guard as his older brother stumbles back, gritting his teeth as he clutches the fresh wound, blood seeping through his clothes. Eery silence befalls the surroundings for a few moments before Laito launches at the hunter, pushing him down and giving his older brother time to grab them and restrict their movements as they drop their knife for Laito to snatch it away, glaring at it with gleaming eyes as it's covered in his brother's blood. He hears how you break the bones in their limbs and swiftly decides to join in the fun for some revenge, grinning down at the human before waving his hand, wishing them farewell before he plunges the knife into their throat, watching the life slowly leaving them. He would have loved to prolong their suffering but has little time as he helps you quickly to rush back into the mansion. He may appear fine upon first glance but is still brimming with blood lust so you have to keep him calm enough or otherwise he might actually go on a murder spread. Let's just say that after this unpleasant encounter, he's sticking a lot more to you.

Subaru Sakamaki

⬜️Subaru is very aggressive but at the same time he's very obedient as he listens to whatever his brother tells him to do if it doesn't involve hurting him or leaving him. The oldest Sakamaki boy is like the lid containing Subaru's anger so he often searches for him when he's upset or mad about something and needs to calm down. So it's quite bad that the youngest one can't find you as he starts trashing around in the mansion, destroys vases and walls the longer he looks for you without success and his brothers avoid him on sight as they know better. Now, when he finds you outside the house as you dodge and attack a vampire hunter, he instantly wants to help and protect you and resorts to violence as he storms in to assault them, triggered by the silver dagger that they try to hurt you with. They're initially caught off-guard as he pushes them away with sheer strength alone, manage to come quickly back to their senses and come back for him, using quick attacks to make him lose balance shortly before striking down with the dagger. You cover him in the last moment as the hunter slashes down your back, the heavy scent of blood filling the air and making Subaru nauseous.

⬜️There are too much emotions at once mercilessly overwhelming him. Anger, shock, panic, guilt, shame and many more he can't even decipher. His body starts shaking as he temporarily stops thinking clearly but when he snaps out of this searing haze of rage, he's smashed the head of the person with his brutal strength. He pays no mind to them afterwards though, quickly rushes to help you up and half-carries you back inside the estate, shaking with fear and panic as he doesn't know what to do now. Instead he just does what he's used too, listening to you and following your instructions. He considers dragging Reiji to your room to help you but you insist that you can handle it all on your own with his hands. His stomach is turning and twisting when he helps you cleaning the wound, hot guilt flodding his veins since he blames himself for those injuries. He knows that he's the youngest and that you're the oldest but he thought that now that he's older that he'd be able to protect you at least a little bit. Why is he still acting like the small boy from back then? The feeling of helplessness haunts him, the invasive thought that he couldn't protect his mother back then nor you now.

Ruki Mukami

📘 Ruki is protective of his family, he's lost his family by blood already once and he won't let it happen again. His older brother is his idol and aspires Ruki til this day. He initially just wants to talk with his brother about something but when he can't find him in their house, he starts panicking a bit. He's just a tad bit controlling so the fact that he doesn't know where his brother is at the moment bothers him more than it should. Afte he couldn't find you in the mansion, he heads out into the garden surrounding the place and surely enough finds you there. It brings him no relief though when he realises that a vampire hunter is also there, fighting against you as you try to win the upper hand. Ruki stops in his tracks, trying to collect himself and help you but they notice him and dash to him, the silver knight glowing under the moonlight. Ruki is sure that he could have defended himself yet you throw yourself against the hunter to keep him away from your younger brother, earning a couple of stabs in your abdomen yet still managing to strip them off all their weapons and the rest is easy play as you twist their head and snap their neck, watch how they go limp under you.

📘 Ruki is tense, trembling slightly as his eyes take in the injuries you've endured for him. You try to be as nonchalant as possible as you ask him if he's fine, earning a throaty choke from him. How can you ask him this question in your condition?! Suddenly he's rushing to you, tries to stop the numerous bleeding spots, hands shaky. When his older brother attempts to calm him down, he nearly yells at him. How can he expect him to calm down?! You're quickly brought back and all of his other brothers start making a fuss when they see your injuries, somehow pressuring Ruki even more as he escorts you to his room to give you medical treatment. He's very close to hyperventilating in that moment, his chest heaving with each troubled breath he takes as he spends the next few hours cleaning the wounds and stitching the skin back together. As soon as he has made sure that his older brother will be alright, he collapses onto the ground as his legs shortly lose all strength. This event leaves a mark on him as Ruki grows paranoid all over again. He monitors his brother closely as his body heals from all the wounds, prays that there will be no scars left since it's entirely his fault. He's such a failure.

Kou Mukami

🎤 Kou has grown significantly clingy after he's been turned alongside with all of his brothers into a vampire and he's specifically often to find around the oldest Mukami brother. There's just such a feeling of security and safety there when he's around him and Kou is low-key addicted to this warm feeling, especially when he's having one of his nightmares. Somehow he can't find you currently though and he's pouting initially a bit because of it as he doesn't instantly assume the worst. At least until he has figured out that you are nowhere inside the mansion which does make him anxious. Why would you leave without telling him or any of his other brothers? He goes outside in order to continue searching for you, his attention drawn to the noise coming from somewhere deep inside the garden. When Kou finally finds you, he realises with growing fear why he couldn't find you as you're currently going head to head with a vampire hunter who has somehow found this place. When they suddenly come for him, you act without thinking as you throw yourself between him and them, sacrifice yourself as the knife is plunged in your chest.

🎤 Kou quickly thinks and reacts, grabs them and throws them down, hands engulfing their neck before swiftly twisting it, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as much as this sickening feeling does when he turns around to you as you pull the knife out of your chest. This looks really bad, he knows that despite you trying your best to downplay it to spare him from worrying yet that only makes it worse. Kou knows that he has to get you to Ruki as quickly as possible as he assists you to get up, careful to not worsen your pain nor the bleeding. There are tears in his eyes when he brings you back into the mansion, screams for Ruki to come as quickly as possible and refuses to leave your side the entire time, choking when he sees from close the wound you received in order to protect him. He doesn't want to stray away from his brother's side after that day at all as he feels paranoid if he's gone for more than five minutes. This accident is just sheer nightmare fuel and they're very frequent the next few weeks as he dreams that his older brother really died. He's a sobbing mess every time he awakes from such dreams, shouting for you in and outside his sleep.

Yuma Mukami

🌱Yuma is arguably the chillest younger brother from the Mukami boys even if he also is the one who took the longest to accept you as his older brother. He's quite excited that day since the vegetables he planted together with you are finally ripse so he wants harvest them together with you which is why he starts searching for you, furrowing his brows when he can't find you anywhere in the house. Honestly, where are you? You may be the oldest but sometimes you're really troublesome. A thought that bites him back when he finds you outside the mansion, struggling against a vampire hunter who wanted to sneak on the property of the Mukami brothers. There are a few cuts on your skin whenever they manage to scratch your skin slightly with their weapon made out of silver. Yuma quickly comes to your help and catches them off-guard by ripping them off you and throwing you away, helping you up and barking at you how you got yourself in this problem all of a sudden. You don't get much time to answer as the hunter launches at you two again, although they're now at a disadvantage with two Impure Vampires against one human. You two nearly overwhelm them.

🌱In their last moments they get desperate, charging at Yuma with newfound ferocity which shortly throws him off-guard. You realise what they plan to do and throw yourself in the last moment in front of him, shielding him as the knife insted pierces through your ribcage. With their weapon now stuck inside of you, they're defenseless as Yuma lifts them up by their head and mercilessly crushes their skull before throwing the corpse carelessly away, grabbing his older brother as he stumbles back, knife still stuck in his skin. Even if he tries to assure his younger brother that he can walk, his false claims fall on deaf ears as he's picked up and piggybacked by Yuma who worries back to inform Ruki of what has happened. He still knows that Ruki needs space to treat the injury so he just waits outside the room, trying to keep a straight face despite the nagging fear of the injury you received. He's back to scolding you for always getting in troubles even if you're the oldest one as soon as he knows that you'll make it, warns you that you'll get nothing from the vegetables he harvested all by himself. He's joking though, tells Ruki to prepare you a bigger plate to enjoy.

Azusa Mukami

🔪 Azusa is the clingiest from the brothers as he's heavily co-dependent to the point where he struggles to make decisions for himself when his older brother isn't with him. He just doesn't know how to properly function without his cherished brother and it's something that worries you as the oldest just as much as all other Mukamis. So when Azusa can't find you, he always starts searching for you. It's one of those days again as he walks around the property, the grip on his knife tightening the longer he can't find you as anxiety eats him away from the inside. Where are you? Please come soon, he's so anxious and lonely without you. He didn't anticipate stumbling upon the middle of a battle and when he sees you, he stills out of shock. Your eyes fall upon him and widen in shock as you shout at him to quickly get away and inform your other brothers what is going on. That's when the attacker decides to go for him though, underestimating him for looking weaker than you. You don't let him though, use your enhanced speed to get between Azusa and him, hissing when you feel how they drive their knife close into your stomach, although you manage to break their leg as a result.

🔪 You struggle with your wound but so do they with their broken leg. You do your best to push them away as they try to stab you again only for Azusa to appear behind them in a flash, a dangerous glint in his normally tired eyes as he uses his own knife to stab them over and over again in the back as you secure your hold on them to allow Azusa to do as he does. With a final stab in the back of their neck, they finally go limp in your hold and you quickly push them away from you, beathing through the pain as you clutch your wound. Azusa goes down on his knees, crawls to you and clutches the bloody fabric of your clothes as he tries to somehow stop the bleeding, tremors going visibly through his body. He doesn't separate from his brother even once when both of them come back into the mansion, not even when Ruki instantly takes their oldest brother to treat the wounds on his stomach. He falls down the hole of self-harming tendencies again as he always grabs his knife as soon as he isn't with his brother which leaves the rest of his brothers little choice but let him stay with you all the time, unable to take any distance. Especially when he wants to punish himself for being at fault for your wounds.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

Text

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Eight

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sugar and Spice and Everything… Sooty

Raya races all the way up the ladder, her breath staggering in her lungs like a hellhound set on a bedevilled chase. She leans against the door, lips parting for the sharp and successive breaths to leave her system, her arms firmly curling over the heavy crate of alcohol she’s managed to swipe from the kitchen.

A heavy quake stammers across the surface of the crate, vibrations pulsing through the glass bottles like a fissure ready to spill. Almost unwillingly, she cranes her neck downwards to the mysterious assault, and when she realises the source of the ruckus, her lips fold into a heavy grimace.

Across the surface of the box lies the shattered remnants of Kikoku, humming and shuddering in such a startlingly low pitch, that its voice could raise devil spawn to grace human land.

Fuck, she hisses to herself. What has she gotten herself into?

Through the brown strands of her windswept hair, her eyes pierce down at Roronoa who reluctantly grabs the ladder by his firm hands as he heaves himself forward.

This is all his fault, she thinks to herself - a thought she finds herself repeating more and more often as a source of respite.

“I don’t get what you want me to do,” he grumbles out, a tied bottle of sake dangling from in between his teeth. His feet smoothly trace along the next ledge of the ladder. “I don’t know how to make swords. I don’t know how to -”

“Don’t try to weasel your way out of this, Roronoa. You’re guarding me,” Raya instantly replies, leaning over the high ledge of the crow’s nest. Her eyes briefly scan through the crowd of pirates, impatient fingers fumbling over the bannister like a worried mother.

“Guard?” Zoro immediately bursts into a scoff. He climbs the last ledge with one effortless leap, his boots creaking against the wooden panels of the floor. “You’re actually being serious?”

Raya doesn’t look at him - instead, she squints her eyes even harder, trying to filter through the mass of drunken moving bodies. “Look – he’s there.”

You subtly nudge your head downwards to a certain narrow-eyed pirate’s direction. Thankfully, after begging for Nami’s help to keep him distracted, it seems like he’s actually starting to loosen up. You notice there’s a beer curled within his inked fingers, and every so often he lifts that same bottle up to his lips, liquid pouring into his mouth with a sharp swig.

Into a smiling mouth, to be precise.

Raya gapes at him a little, and despite the hellish circumstance she’s in, a little grin appears on her lips as she takes in his countenance.

He’s actually been smiling for more than two seconds so far – isn’t that some sort of new record for Law or what? Raya thinks to herself.

"Look, he's all tipsy right now," she explains, turning back to face Zoro with a frown reserved only for the likes of him. "But we both know he'll snap out of it soon enough. And when he does, he's going to climb all the way up here and beat both our asses up. You're here to make sure he doesn't catch us off guard."

Zoro stares at her, clearly unimpressed with his designated role. "So, I'm the one who has to deal with his whining while you get to…?"

Raya stares back at him, clearly unimpressed with his reaction. “Roronoa, I’m fixing the goddamn sword you fell on. You guarding me sounds like a walk in the park compared to what I have to do.”

And for a moment, they’re locked in a silent staring contest.

Raya's eyes are narrowed in determination, her gaze like twin laser beams boring into Zoro's skull. She looks like a furious wet cat ready to swipe her paws at the source of her irritation - or maybe more like a stubborn toddler refusing to back down from a standoff with a particularly dead statue.

Zoro, on the other hand, looks like he’s trying to channel his inner rock, his expression stony and unyielding. But there’s a twitch in his eyebrow, a hint of something dancing in his eyes, as if he’s secretly enjoying this absurd standoff with her.

But just when it seems like the silence might go on forever, a small, involuntary twitch at the corner of Zoro's mouth gives him away. Raya catches it immediately and can’t help but smirk triumphantly, knowing she’s won this round.

"Glad you agree," she replies, her voice laced with sarcasm. She throws him a bottle of beer, flipping her hair in his face.

With an irritated grunt and a shuffle away, Zoro instinctively catches the bottle and takes a long swig, his gaze fixed on Law as he monitors his movements. For a while, the two of them stand in silence, the only sounds being the distant ruckus of music and voices and the gentle creaking of the ship blending beneath them.

“Whatever. Let’s go inside before he sees us fucking around up here,” he murmurs. And with a swift spin and snatch, the crates of clinking alcohol disappear from Raya’s arms and into the swordsman’s. While he casually strides into the crow’s nest. Raya remains standing there blinking stupidly, completely taken off guard by his quick-handed thievery.

With that, the realisation rises, a growl set on her face as she stomps after Zoro, hot on his heels.

“Don’t forget we’re sharing those!” she hisses.

In response, the swordsman rolls his eyes but doesn't protest, knowing that arguing with Raya will only prolong their time on deck where they risk being spotted by Law. He sets the crates down with a thud, and they both settle into a comfortable silence as they crack open the bottles and down their drinks.

Zoro’s expression is unreadable as he surveys the mess before him. "So, what's the plan?" he asks, his voice gruff but curious.

Raya sighs, running a hand through her thick hair as she tries to gather her thoughts. "First, I need to assess the damage," she says, leaning her elbows over the table above the broken sword. "Then… I guess I’ll get cooking…"

Zoro nods, leaning on the table beside her as he examines the poor mess of Kikoku. The once formidable blade lies in pieces before them, the jagged edges reflecting the dim light of the lanterns overhead.

"Well, it's definitely broken," Zoro says straight-faced.

"Thanks for that insightful observation," Raya snaps, reaching for one of the broken pieces of the sword. “Really, what would I do without your thought-provoking commentary, Roronoa?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” He retorts, laying lazily against one of her stools. “I’m trapped in here, doing fuck-all.”

Raya looks at him indifferently and shrugs. “Sleep?”

“I’m not tired, I’m bored.��

Raya smirks, a sudden mischievous glint appearing in her eyes. Whatever idea she’s cooked up is getting her excited, with the way her teeth are gleaming in their full glory.

"Weeeell, lucky for you, I've got just the thing to cure your boredom," she says, reaching under the table and pulling out a tattered colouring book and a handful of crayons. She sets them on the table in front of Zoro with a playful grin. "Try this. I'm sure Chopper won't mind if you borrow it for a bit."

Zoro eyes the colouring supplies sceptically, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," he mutters, picking up one of the crayons and turning it over in his hand. Raya offers him a shit-eating grin when he raises an eyebrow at her.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she urges, nudging the colouring book closer to him, repeatedly pushing it into his elbow like prodding a wad of lettuce on a stick to an unimpressed tiger. "And who knows, maybe you'll discover a hidden passion for art."

Zoro hesitates for a moment, then sighs dejectedly and takes the crayon, flipping open the colouring book to a random page.

"You’re gonna be the end of me," he mutters, leaning back in his chair and starting to colour in a picture of a pirate ship.

Raya watches with amusement as Zoro tentatively starts colouring - his movements, cautious at first before he gradually gains confidence, his strokes becoming bolder and more deliberate. She can't help but snicker at the sight, finding it oddly endearing to see the idiot swordsman engaging in such a seemingly childish activity.

For a while, they work in companionable silence, the only sounds being the scratching of crayons against paper, the clinking of metal and the occasional chug of beer as they take breaks to de-sober themselves. Raya finds herself relaxing as she focuses on the task at hand, the tension of the earlier confrontation with Law fading into the background.

But as they work, she can't shake the feeling of Kikoku's presence beside her, the broken pieces of the sword humming with a furious energy that seems to seep into the air around them. Raya glances at the shattered remains of the once formidable blade, a frown tugging at her lips as she tries to make sense of the strange sensation.

Kikoku seems to be muttering to her, the fragments of the sword vibrating with an intensity that sends a shiver down Raya's spine. She strains to make out the words, but they're muffled and indistinct like whispers carried on the wind.

"Kikoku, what are you saying?" Raya murmurs, reaching out to touch one of the broken pieces of the sword.

In immediate response, Kikoku screeches from underneath her fingertips, making Raya flinch her hand away in shock.

‘What do you fucking think, you incompetent excuse of a human being?’ It screams in Raya’s head, rattling her very bones in her body.

Raya clenches her teeth, anxiously running a hand through her hair. "I’m sorry, Kikoku. I really am. I don’t know how it all… If you let me, I promise I’ll be able to fix you."

Kikoku hums angrily in response, the vibrations of her broken body resonating against the desk. It swirls around on the wooden surface, almost trying to will itself to spiral around into a flurry of blades.

‘Not enough. I seek for revenge. Not enough. Not enough.’

"Kikoku, please," Raya pleads softly, her voice laced with desperation. "I understand that you're angry, but I can fix you. Let me help you.”

Again, the sword vibrates with an almost manic energy, its broken edges glinting ominously in the dim light of the lanterns.

"I’ll find a way to make things even, I promise," Raya continues, her voice tinged with determination. "But for now, I have to focus on fixing you. Once you're whole again, we can figure out what to do next."

‘What are you planning, human?’ she spits, her voice sharp and demanding. ‘Let me listen to your pathetic attempt at salvaging my trust.’

The swordsmith takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what comes next. "First, I need to assess the extent of your damage," she says, reaching for another piece of the broken sword. "Then, I'll figure out a way to repair you. And if that's not enough... well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Kikoku's response was a begrudging silence, the vibrations of her broken pieces slowly starting to calm. Raya took it as a small victory, a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.

Raya offers a tentative smile to the sword. “I won’t let you down.”

Hours pass in a blur as Raya meticulously fits the broken pieces of Kikoku back together, her hands steady despite the weight of the task. It's slow progress, but with each piece she adds, she can feel Kikoku's energy shifting, becoming less volatile and more... resigned.

"I'm sorry," Zoro blurts out suddenly, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them, his voice slightly slurred from the amount of alcohol in his system.

Raya’s head snaps up, surprise flickering in her eyes as she meets Zoro’s gaze. Her fingers pause in the momentum of her work, work now being the last thing on her mind.

"I… For what?" She mutters out.

Zoro leans over the table, his fingers gently spinning the bottle around in his hands.

"For...for breaking the sword," Zoro admits, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to...I mean, I know that doesn't excuse what happened, but I just...I'm sorry."

Raya pauses, taken aback by the unexpected apology. She stares at Zoro, seeing the sincerity in his eyes despite the haze of alcohol clouding his judgment.

His lone grey eye remains steadfast on her, and although he tries his best to mask himself into indifference, a flicker of something breaks through when Raya really looks at him with her soft brown eyes.

Something breaks within him – or more so, something loosens up within him, and his control over himself - albeit hanging on by fragile and intoxicated threads - has finally been torn apart.

Raya doesn’t know why, but her breath catches in her throat when he does this. When he really looks at her. With that grey eye, intense and relentless with feeling.

In a panic, she immediately disengages from the stare and looks down to her lap, one hand fumbling with a hammer, the other shrouded in a red-hot flame for blade-tempering.

For a moment, silence envelops them, broken only by the faint sound of their breathing and the occasional crackle of flames from Raya's hand. She's not used to hearing such sincerity from him, especially not when it comes to admitting fault. It catches her off guard, leaving her at a loss for how to respond… and now, she doesn’t know what to do.

Instead, she focuses on the task at hand, the broken pieces of Kikoku spread out before her like a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be solved. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her hands as she reaches for another piece of the sword.

"It's... I know, Roronoa," Raya finally manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She can feel the warmth of Zoro's gaze on her, his silent offer of forgiveness hanging in the air.

Raya can’t control it any longer. She has to look up at him again, and when she does, her warm brown eyes latch onto his enraptured gaze with such ease, with such naturalness.

And then, Zoro’s stare softens.

Raya doesn’t even recognise this… look on the swordsman, this out-of-place soft glint that consumes his face, like he’s finally uncoiled his hands from the tight reins of his self-restraint.

Zoro doesn’t know what else there is to say. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel at this moment, either. But in his drunken courage, his hand acts out of its own will, lifting up and away from his bottle as his eyes flicker down to her mouth.

Raya’s breath halts as she remains still. Her own senses have vanished away, along with her train of thoughts, and all she wants to do is to lean into his hand.

And they do. Zoro’s fingers press against her jaw, deftly lifting her chin up. He makes her stare straight at him with no room to escape. And Raya is completely breathless. She gives in to the pressure of his fingers, blinking at him curiously, observing the all-consuming focus on his face. His eye flickers down from her gaze to her mouth, his thumb laying idly only a few millimetres away from her skin.

And with no thought in those eyes, his thumb reaches and presses to the corner of her lips, swiping in one circular movement. For a moment, Raya’s lost in the intensity of Zoro's gaze, the heat of his touch lingering on her skin like a brand.

A subtle breath releases from his lips when he touches the corner of her mouth.

He moves his thumb again, unsatisfied with the singular touch, now placing it ever-so softly over Raya’s lips. He looks at her in the eyes, his gaze darkening and unwavering, as he brushes his thumb over her mouth, parting them ever so slightly, so softly, so slowly.

But then, as quickly as it came, the moment passes. Zoro pulls away, his expression once again hardened into a mask of indifference. He picks up his bottle, taking a long swig of sake as if to wash away the lingering traces of emotion.

He shows his thumb to you, a layer of dark black powder coating his skin.

“You had soot on your face,” he mutters out roughly.

Raya blinks in surprise, her heart pounding in her chest as she processes what just happened. She can still feel the lingering warmth of Zoro's touch on her lips, the ghost of his thumb brushing against her skin, the heat of his breath hitting her skin.

And for a moment, she's at a loss for words, her mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. She looks up at Zoro, her gaze searching his face for any sign of what he might be feeling, but Zoro's expression remains impassive. His eye remains unreadable as he wipes the soot from his thumb with a nonchalant air - it's as if the moment never happened, as if he's already moved on from whatever fleeting emotion prompted his actions.

She swallows hard, trying to push down the heat that surges within her. She knows that she should say something, to retort back with a typical Raya joke or simply say something really sarcastic, but all of the tricks in her conversational mind die right at the tip of her tongue, right at the entrance of where his fingers were laying against only a few moments ago.

But before she can do anything – to recover any tiny piece of dignity that still remains within her, a sudden crash from outside the crow's nest shatters the moment, sending them both scrambling to the porthole with hushed breaths.

As they silently peer into the window, they’re met with the sight of Law stumbling towards the door, his movements erratic and unsteady, a wild look in his eyes.

"Shit," Raya curses under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "He’s early."

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julianalvarez9 · 1 year

Text

unfocused / christian pulisic

part 1

word count: 1.3k

summary: tension grows impossibly heavy after your back and forth banter with christian. dinner's over now, so it's time to go to sleep. or is it?

warnings: smut (first time writing it so the warning should be for how badly written it must be ☠️)

the tension between christian and you had grown exponentially after your little banter with him. thankfully, it flew through everyone's head, so you didn't have anything to explain to anyone. of course, you two still shared some words to avoid it looking suspicious, but you felt the weight from your shoulders leave when the dinner was finally over, claiming that the future married couple had to had a good night's sleep. not that you would have objected, wanting this night -and the whole trip, to be honest- to end as soon as possible. you just wished that it was before your friendship with christian ended up being irreparably broken.

"oh, i forgot to mention" your mother started, while going up the stairs towards the bedrooms that were on the second floor. you cringed before she could continue, already knowing that the tone she was using. "the guest room is occupied, darling. you know, the groom cannot see his bride before the big day. you won't have any problems sleeping together in your childhood bedroom, right?".

it wouldn't have been awkward for you if you two were actually together. and if you hadn't assured him, before arriving, that your mother never allowed your sister's boyfriend to sleep with her even after all the years the two had spent together.

once inside your room, christian understood perfectly your reaction, and how you had considerably stilled since receiving the unwanted news. "ey ey ey, it's okay," he reassured, both palms caressing your arms, trying to soothe you, which proved to be futile attempts due to how nervous you were. "we don't have to share the bed. i can wait until everyone's asleep, find a hotel or something" he reassured, warm smile trying to comfort you. "i'll come back in the morning, say i went to buy pastries for breakfast or some shit. no one has to know" christian lifted his eyebrows, like looking for confirmation you had approved his plan, but you denied. "don't be silly, christian, they'll figure it out," you huffed, seating on the bed and hiding your face from his gaze.

he got on his knees and tapped yours, that were supporting your arms while you covered your face with your hands. he continued, whispering now to avoid being heard by your parents. "then i can sleep on the floor. just get me a pillow and i'm good," he insisted, which only made you frown and glare at him with a questioning look. "pulisic, you'd rather sleep on the floor than with me?".

even with the light turned off and the moonlight as your main source of illumination, you could still see how his cheeks turned bright pink at your accusations. "n-no," he stumbled on his words, trying to clarify what he meant faster than he physically could, "it's just that i don't want to make you uncomfortable, that's all". christian got up to make his way towards you, sitting beside you on the tiny bed that you were proposing to share. you counter attacked, reminiscing what he had said earlier tonight. "you didn't seem to care when you teased me like that downstairs", you said in his ear, close enough to hear how his breath hitched when you got impossibly closer to his neck. "and you're crossing the line. again" he gritted.

"did i?" you ask, suddenly self conscious about your behavior. you two didn't really know each other much apart from your group's gatherings, and realized soon enough that you didn't actually know if he had a partner or not. "do you have a girlfriend? a real one?". christian quickly denied, both with his head and words. "no, no".

"then what's the problem? what happened to 'i'll make everyone hear that we're dating'?".

he laughed quietly, rubbing his hands over his face to avoid your piercing stare. "i don't think that your parents would appreciate that," he commented and you could only hum in confirmation. "i'll be quiet then". he turned to look at you, taken by surprise by your flirtatious answer. "so eager. what has gotten into you tonight, love?".

you shrugged, partly because you didn't know how to reply to his question, partly because the scene you two had during dinner had made your brain turn off, and you couldn't think of anything else that wasn't having him. "you're talking too much, christian," you replied annoyed, before turning your body towards his so you could grab his face and kiss him to silence whatever quick response he had to your accusation.

everything escalated up quickly, and you soon found yourself under him, furiously making out and trying to get rid of the clothes that you had wore to the dinner a few hours before. he had a plain white shirt that you had wanted to take off of him all night, and you almost ruin the buttons while trying to do so as quickly as possible. you, on the other hand, had a simple little black dress that christian couldn't ever resist, even if he tried. that's what had caused this whole situation in the first place: how hard he got when he had you seated over him.

when christian finally slip himself inside of you, he paused to make sure that you were okay, starting his movements once again when you pleaded with your eyes. your warmth almost had him coming instantly, the sensations eliciting a deep groan to fall from his plump lips due to the sudden wave of pleasure that run through his body. he had to take a deep breath before pressing your back further into the bed, strong arms keeping you in place. "that's it, r-right there" you told christian, fighting through the desire that clouded your mind and made it difficult to form any coherent thoughts. he smiled cockily when he felt how you were tightening with each trust, hips snapping against yours, loud and hard. if you had been in the right mind, not lost in pleasure like you were, maybe you would be more careful with the obscene noises leaving your bedroom.

"i thought you'd said that you'll be quiet" christian whispered in your ear, licking and kissing the skin nearby, trying to stop himself from emitting any sounds more than a few grunts here and there. "maybe i need to put something in your mouth," he said as a breathy moan fell from his lips. his hand, previously pressing lightly onto your throat traveled to your mouth, and he slipped his large thumb into it, feeling your tongue swirl around him.

when his hips started to falter, he warned lowly, "i won't last much longer, love," forehead pressed against yours while his eyes stared deeply into yours. they were droopy due to the overwhelming sensations burning through your body, but christian still held onto your gaze. your hands, previously caressing his back roughly, for sure leaving marks, returned to hold onto both sides of his face, murmuring a small "please" before kissing him feverishly. although you didn't know what you were pleading for, he understood it perfectly, and soon his orgasm was triggering yours.

he dropped against your chest, exhausted just as you were, too deep into the haze and probably too jet lagged to even care. you two kept still, skin on skin after the intimate moments you had shared, its remnants still dripping down your thighs slowly. christian sighed contently when you slipped your hand into his hair, softly scraping it and making him fell asleep almost instantly.

after a few moments without a sound coming from either of you, you joked, slowly whispering "was it so bad?," chest vibrating as the waves of your giggles rumbled through his body. "yeah," he muttered, tone serious, which made you stiffen at the coldness of his answer. he continued, a few seconds after considering whether he should say it or not, afraid he had misunderstood the situation, giving it more meaning than it had to you. "now i won't be able to stop when we're back home," he concluded.

#football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football x you #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x y/n #football smut #christian pulisic smut

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ateez-himari · 7 months

Text

ALONE WITH YOU [230928]

...

"Nobody knows, nobody loves you like I do."

The only source of light making the young woman's peaceful face visible was a small campfire burning a few feet away, its glow weakened by time spent without fuel, though it did not seem to stop the man standing beside her from losing himself in her faintest of smiles. Loosely tied hair fell down to cover her face as she busied herself with carefully stacking used dishes atop each other and his ringed fingers were quick to tuck the rebel strings behind her pierced ear, finding it an excuse to admire her over all over again.

"You don't have to do that every time you know." She laughed, gently swatting his hand away. "At this rate I'll never finish cleaning up."

"Your hair keeps blocking your pretty face...how else am I supposed to look at you, hm?" His voice trailed off into a whisper as his palms slid down her body before resting on her waist. "It's not my fault you're so addicting."

With a small shake of her head his girlfriend rolled her eyes in mock exasperation and placed a quick peck on the corner of his lips before nimbly slipping out out of his longing hold. This chaste touch however did not satisfy the man's ever growing desire to have her undivided attention and one of his bare arms found itself wrapping around her midsection, pulling her back so tightly against his chest she could almost feel his heartbeat on her spine. Although the young woman desperately wanted to finish her task so that they could continue their evening without any further responsibilities she found herself melting into the safety of her boyfriend's warmth, letting the smell of his cologne flood her senses.

"Doesn't it feel better like this love?" His deep voice chuckled barely inches from her ear, his warm breath against her skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. "We'll take care of it later, right now I need to have you to myself, I can't stand just watching you anymore."

"We're stuck together almost every day of the year and you can't let me go for a few minutes?" She giggled, placing a hand atop his forearm whilst the other intertwined with his free one.

"It's not the same...I can't treat you as my girlfriend with other people around, let alone cameras. You have no idea how hard it is trying not to touch you or kiss your perfect lips when you laugh."

Despite having heard countless loving rambles from him over their relationship her heart began thumping against her chest at his words, face completely flushed as she turned around to look into his eyes forced into crescents by his wide smile. Under his adoring gaze it felt as though she was falling in love all over again, tears pricking her eyes for an unknown reason as she placed both hands on the man's biceps before pressing her lips to his, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat as she did so. In that moment the speaker's faint music mixed itself with the sound of waves crashing onto nearby rocks and both sounds fell on deaf ears as the couple lost themselves in the other's embrace, unprovoked giggles erupting ever so often from their connected lips.

"I love you so much Mingi." She whispered as they parted ever so slightly. "I can't believe the universe let me have you..."

"What am I supposed to think then, hm? Heaven sent down an angel just for her to land right in my arms...how lucky."

A wide grin pulled at the man's features when his girlfriend's face came to hide itself into the thin material covering his chest out of sudden timidity, his fingers instinctively ruffling her hair and further loosening the elastic's hold. Then without warning his long arms snaked around the young woman's waist and the ground's support vanished from beneath her feet, resulting in a small yelp resounding from her throat only for the table's hard surface to settle under her now seated body.

"You know...everything feels right when we're together like this." She admitted, soft fingers absently tracing the chain hanging from his neck. "My heart feels calm...and it's like everything stops."

Unable to find words matching the feelings whirling around in his own head the man simply leaned in, barely leaving any breathing room between the two as to tease his girlfriend whose mouth was already forming a slight pout before finally placing a languid kiss on her lips. Her eyes remained half lidded for a moment as if making sure this moment was not a mere dream but the euphoria emerging from ringed hands roaming over her sides quickly forced them closed.

"I love you...you're mine Hima. Always." He whispered breathlessly. "I don't know if I could ever handle a life without you in it. In every life time, you're mine and I'm yours whether we find each other or not."

"I'll find you Mingi...always."

#ateez 9th member #ateez au #ateez extra member #ateez female member #ateez imagines #kpop oc #kpop imagines

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valentinedaughtler · 5 months

Text

Tainted Opal (Part 9)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

T/Ws: violence, romantic feelings, blood, mild spice scenes sometimes, fem!reader and she/her pronouns, sexual abuse/trauma (not explicit)

Synopsis: You truely recall the time you and Kaz crossed paths as young teenagers. How you fled from your pirate ship into the dark streets of Ketterdam, only to find a scoundrel to scar.

REQUESTS: OPEN✅

____________________________________________

9 - His Eyes of Hatred

"We met before, haven't we?" I try to keep my voice calm, but the tone was desperate; a consuming curiosity brewing in the cauldron of my mind. It began to bubble over as the existence of silence grew. The sliver of sunlight left in the day cast a long shadow across Kaz, exaggerating the sharp parts of his face; the dark lines left from a life in the Barrel. It is a constant reminder of who he is and what he will always be. The Bastard of The Barrel.

"Life isn't fate driven, Y/n," Kaz finally mutters while tapping the metallic crow head of his cane with a long, gloved finger. My eyebrows crease in annoyance, I'm not going to get a direct answer out of him. I sigh softly and lean against a barren tree. The sharp bark still pierces my skin through the thick jacket wrapped around me; Kaz's jacket. A blanket of heavy silence draped over us as the moon became the only source of light. I close my eyes and attempt to sift through the old, painful memories from my arrival into Ketterdam.

✶ ♧ ✶

The thick smoke of the endless line of boats had filled my lungs. I surepressed coughs that tried to escape my cracked lips. The smoke and fog masked my clumsy escape off of the wooden ship; off of home. I looked back for longer than I should have, soaking in the remnants of my childhood.

I trudged past bellowing merchants at makeshift stands filled with stealable goods and promising services. The voices of the bustling streets meshed together into a white noise more crackly than the sea I was used to, and diverse smells wafted through the air; food, dirt, death.

My stomach growled like a starved beast, my muscles felt strained and tight. My hungry gaze had landed on a man selling fresh fruits and breads; a strange assortment, but an appetizing one. He was younger, but old enough to have to avoid taxes illegally. His dark skin and curly hair contrasted pleasantly with his orange button up. He had been calling out to possible customers; the walking wallets that roamed the streets. I shifted my demeanor and softened my expression; an attempt to look sweet and desperate. Do what your mother taught you, I had told myself. I took long, elegant strides toward the stand, clasping my hands together as he looked at me. A glint of intrigue sparkled in his deep, dark eyes as he rested his elbows on the wooden counter. It was covered in apples and grapes, as well as warm baked goods.

I greeted him with an innocent smile as he spoke to me, "Ah, what can I do for ya' miss? Maybe a pear, a biscuit... a date?" He had winked and flashed me a dimpled smile. I giggled softly and batted my eyelashes. It felt so embarrassing— so degrading at the time.

"Well, maybe a loaf of bread and an apple?" I requested with my honeydew voice, which poured into his ears with a pleasurable vibration. He nodded with another wink and placed both into a cloth bag. I searched in my pockets, calm at first, but then frantic, a false panic spreading across my face. "My wallet! Oh no, I think someone stole my wallet," my lip quivered as I looked at the shop man with desperation. His expression was unfazed, he even huffed with a deep chuckle.

"You're not from here, are ya', little miss?" He rested his soft-edged face in his hands, amused with how naive I seemed. I had blinked a few times, cocking my head in confusion. He sighed as tears began to pool in my eyes, wiping them away with a calloused finger. "I'll give em' to ya' for free, but next time you come around, take me out for a nice meal," he smirked and extended his hand towards me. I accepted the bag of finessed foods from his outstretched palm, thanking him excessively.

I had whisked my way through the tight crowds until the outdoor markets became scarce. The streets were darker now, oiled lamp light more haphazard the further I walked. The way people took up space was different here. Before, in the markets, pedestrians had grand attires, with even grander ambitions. The cramped space was borrowed by anyone who took it, and the attempt was abundant.

But here, it contrasted immaculately. Those who roamed visibly tried to take up as little space as possible; small slivers of rotting life in the decaying world around them. Most people hadn't wandered openly, instead choosing to slip through the cracks of the city.

These seemed to be the rules of those who lived here, except for a handful of daring strangers I saw lingering outside a packed bar, a few chuckling loudly, drunkenly swaying with the leaning buildings. The rambunctious group had begun to make their way down the street, following a tall man with a cane that clacked against the cobblestone roads. He looked old, or maybe just worn, from his intense angularity and sharpened points. Though, further inspection had proved otherwise, showing the man's— er, boy's- cheeks puffed slightly on his angled face and hard expression. His soft jaw had seemed to be the only way to know he was young. He had actually appeared to be my age.

As the gang passed me with animated motions, I gave a quick wink to one that peered at me for far too long. My eyes were welcoming; entrancing. They were an enticing trap; a siren song that lured in those who thought too little about importances and too much about lust. The man whistled at me and even stopped, turning in my direction. I scanned him for any riches I'd need for future purchases or predicaments. A pocket watch had caught my eye. It dripped out from his chest pocket by a chain, which adorned his tailored suit that had been mishandled from the bar.

His mates had stopped, one making a groan of frustration. "You cannot hit on every pretty gal who acknowledges ya', Big B," a man slurred with a drunken scowl. The broad man, apparently Big B, strutted his way to me, towering over my body with a sly grin.

"You alone in the Barrel?" His words slipped on the sharp constants and bubbled in his deep voice. The Barrel? I remember being confused by that statement. I looked away bashfully for a moment before offering him batting eyes and a small smile. He took both with haste, his gaze narrowing as I had stepped closer to him. Big B's friends behind him protested, a few stumbling towards him to drag him away. Shit, time for the emergency plan B, I had thought to myself, anxious to snag him watch and sell it to the nearest pawn shop for much too little.

I tripped over the uneven cobbles in the road as I shrunk the space between Big B and I, my hands falling in front of my tipping body onto his chest, right by his pocket.

"I am so sorry, sir, really, I didn't mean to-," my nervous pleas and apologies were stopped shortly by a deep, throaty laugh from the muscular man.

"Doll, no worries at all," he said. I had clutched my hands over my chest, the golden watch trapped between my palms. Shortly after, a few dirtied hands grabbed the thick arms of Big B before dragging him away from where I stood. I made a quick escape to a nearby alley as the men squabbled with one another. I slipped the watch into my pocket as I heard the enraged yells of Big B; he hadn't been able to find his watch for some reason. The roars faded and meshed with the voices of Ketterdam as I climbed my way up to the rooftops of the city.

The night had ticked away on the watched I clutched, my eyes filled with greed and satisfaction with every tik and tok it made. I had found myself my very own sliver of Ketterdam to hide in, an indent of a building that was covered with a dirtied sheet and stacked crates of spoiled produce.

My dreams of freedom and riches were halted by the familiar sound of a cane hitting cobblestone, followed by an unfamiliar noise of a cane hitting me in the arm, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a large bruise soon; a warning. I had yelped and contorted my body around the cloth roof of my shelter, lunging at the shadow of a figure; a diversion, as my father taught me, an eye catcher, as my mother had said. The attacker smacked me in the stomach with force, their cane causing my ribs to vibrate like a xylophone. I ignored the intense throbbing pain— another trick I had learned on the boat- as I rolled part of the sheet up. With a few flicks of my wrists, the wrung cloth was tightly around the neck of my current opponent. I squeezed tighter as I stared at them.

Before me had stood a reddening face— suffocation has that affect on people- of the sharp, dark boy from earlier. The ring leader of his own gritty circus. He once again used his cane to hit me in the leg, but I used this falling opportunity I had felt to smack my forehead into his. This along with the chokehold I had him in caused the boy to fall back, his well-groomed, dark hair covering his eyes a bit. He was strangely beautiful now that I had noticed it, in an intense sort of way.

Time was ticking away as I observed him, so I shoved him into the alley wall, where an eroded brick cut his lower lip. I ran with haste into the slick street as rain began to pour down in large globs. My hair had stuck to my skin, along with my wet clothes, where the gold watch was pocketed.

✶ ♧ ✶

My chilly hands fumble through my pants pockets, finding the signature time-teller of mine; a—now quite scratched- good pocket watch that hung from a thin chain. I held it in my palms, the sharp cold nipping at my finger tips. Kaz's eyes were glued on the small clock, his lower lip twitching. I toss it to him, and he unsurprisingly catches it with a single gloved hand.

"Maybe there is some fate," I finally melted the silence with a warm voice. I chuckle softly, looking at Kaz, his round cheeks and soft jaw were long gone, and he seemed to have become sharper and harder over the two years that past, the Barrel chipping away at his humanity with greediness to destroy a boy. His lower lip had a scar that ran down the center, an immortal reminder of the time a former pirate girl got a leg up on Kaz Brekker, no one got a let up on Kaz Brekker.

"Or maybe Ketterdam is too small for those with such high ambition," the oddly attractive boy responds with a rasp.

"I think that may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," I reply with a light laugh. Kaz doesn't say anything, but he met my gaze with eyes that weren't completely filled with hatred.

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Word Count: 1889

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I took a quick break from writing to allow my creative drive to return, thought it's better to write better than write more.

-Valentine

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