#but yeah anyways its kind of making me nearly cry

[honestsycrets]

exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]

❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)

❛ type | one-shot, explicit

❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.

❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.

❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa

❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.

Miguel wakes early in the morning.

Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.

"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.

"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"

"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"

"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.

"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."

Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.

"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.

"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."

"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."

There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.

"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."

"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."

If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.

He could do that.

"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.

"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, then."

Isn't that what he said earlier?

"Hobie!"

It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.

He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.

“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”

"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."

“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”

Hobie!

“I’m not.”

“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"

It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.

“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”

Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.

Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.

He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.

Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.

The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.

Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.

"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.

"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.

He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.

It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.

Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--

“Oh? What's that?”

Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?

“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”

Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.

Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.

"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."

"A sore throat."

He wasn't buying that either.

"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.

"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"

You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.

He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.

You played him.

His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.

“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.

“Mmm.”

A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.

"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.

"It's just sex."

“Are you dating him?”

“We don't do labels,” you said.

Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.

“I do. I don’t share my women.”

“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."

"Is that all we are?"

"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."

His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.

He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.

But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.

Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.

You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.

“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.

“Alone?”

“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”

"Show me."

"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"

You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.

"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.

White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.

"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"

"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"

"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."

"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.

"Yeah, you got me."

By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.

Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.

“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.

If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.

As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.

“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.

"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.

“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”

“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.

"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.

“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.

“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”

“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.

"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.

Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.

“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”

“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."

"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"

He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”

“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.

“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”

“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”

Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.

“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”

“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”

“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”

“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”

“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.

You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.

“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.

“Let's stop seeing each other."

Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…

“I… I didn’t know you would care.”

He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.

“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."

"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."

You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.

"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”

“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”

“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”

“Even you?”

That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.

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[tobifuyu]

Shopping with the Haitani Ran goes wrong!

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

Ran thinks you're too cute to be dressing this badly. He takes you shopping, finally gives in to his own desires and touches you in the dressing room. Chaos ensues.

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial.

words count: 5,398

a/n: this is actually my first time writing smut, or anything at all, so bear with me. the one shot is part of a longer fic that I will start posting pretty soon, set in the Bonten timeline, I just wanted to put out something in the meantime, mostly as practice. english is not my first language! enjoy.

If you think shopping with a man such as Haitani Ran would be an enjoyment of sorts, well, you’d be wrong.

If your damnation could be encased in a day it would be today out of all of them.

Haitani Ran is already a handful as it is, put him in a store-filled street, already dressed to the nines and parading around like he owns the motherfucking moon and stars and what comes out is a big ass headache and a lot of self-deprecation.

In theory, the idea was not half bad. Ran knows a lot about this kind of stuff: fashion, styling, brands… at least more than you do, no matter how much you’d like to keep up. And the amount of money in his bank account is – well, still a mystery to you – you can only imagine a lot, considering what he is wearing and the place he’s dragging you to with a big hand wrapped around your wrist.

So in theory him helping you pick out a few pieces of clothing you could buy with your weekly allowance didn’t sound too bad. Considering how extravagant he and his brother are, you were expecting to head over to Harajuku, and maybe try to dig out something he could style for you from a cool vintage store.

You didn’t think he would bring you to a mall.

You don’t even think you’d be allowed in such a place, normally, not in the way you’re dressed anyway.

I mean, you did try your hardest to look somewhat presentable, knowing you’d be running around with the Haitani Ran, but with your laughable budget and a very confused sense of style, you look like Ran had just picked you up from the sidewalk like one of those lone puppies you’d see in a sad movie and brought you around to keep him company while squatting at his feet and wiggling your tail.

You’ve just always liked too many trendy styles, buying a few pieces here and there and leaving you with no basics and nothing to match them with, and so y ou look out of place, walking into a brand store practically hand in hand with one of the most handsome guys those judgy store clerks have probably ever seen, with a timeless and classy outfit that makes him look like he belongs there.

And most importantly, that he can afford it.

Maybe the only thing that makes up for it is his crazy two-toned braids. Doesn’t make him look nearly as bad as you, but at least you know how to use a toner.

He spends some time looking around the racks after shooing the shopping assistant who tried to approach the two of you away, and you trail behind him like – yeah, you guessed it – a lost puppy with eyes cast down, as if trying to disappear, maybe then they’d stop staring holes through your bland white cardigan that’s a little too big for your frame since you eyeballed its size and then found it too comfy to size down.

And that’s because you and fitting rooms just don’t click. You find the whole process a little too tiring, both mentally and physically.

Who enjoys spending that much time undressing yourself to wear clothes that have been worn by god knows how many others and have yet to see a washing machine, just to cry the moment you get them on because fast fashion sizes don’t fit people but want people to fit in them? Also having to recollect yourself and patch up your makeup while redressing as quickly as possible cause a line has already formed outside the door, you can hear them, and you can already feel their judging stares the moment you are gonna leave all the clothes you tried on with the clerk, nonetheless, cause everything looked like absolute shit on you–

Draining, that’s what it is.

But it’s dread that you feel creeping up on you while approaching the said fitting rooms with one of Ran’s arms now circling your waist, the other doing the most to hold up a bunch of clothes that you can barely make out but you know he has picked out, just for you.

“We can skip this part.”

You had tried reasoning, just to get hit with a “Skip this part my ass, there’s no buying clothes without trying them on. That’s how you end up with that cardigan. And I’m paying for this shit, so we’ll do as I say, princess.”

Ouch, what a little bitch.

Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling remorse, after he’s reminded you so kindly of why he’s decided to do this in the first place, knowing he wants to pull out his wallet to soothe his pretty eyes from having to see you dressed like a mess all the time.

But you’re better than this, so you decide you’ll only pick something you can afford.

He’s nothing to you but a new acquaintance, after all.

A means to an end, you like to remind yourself. You’re not using him, not a hundred percent at least, cause he’s getting your shining company in return. But yeah… you just need him to get to Manjirou. Nothing more. Nothing fun… you swear to yourself.

You’re doing Toman a favor, continuing Draken’s underground work now that he’s gone. You know Takemichi and sweet Chifuyu don’t add up to much when it comes to planning.

You’ve heard about Ran’s little fixation on you from the grapevine. His own brother had admitted to him relentlessly talking about you. And now, with Kantou Manji looming over the future of you all, you knew you had to get involved.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Ran’s lazy lavender eyes have had you in a chokehold from the very first time the two of you met, years ago.

He and Rindou wanting to fight you and your brother – only the latter, really – just to find out that you don’t back down from a challenge.

(From that day onward, if you were to ask Rindou, he would say that’s when his brother started talking about you.)

So you let him lock you in the fitting room, one of those cool ones with mirrors and lights all around you but, most importantly, a sturdy door.

One you know, in a store this expensive, no one will start knocking on if you take too long squeezing into one of those tiny dresses.

Not that it does anything to stop Ran once you’ve declared you’ve tried on the first one.

A pretty lilac piece, that would complement him and his eyes more – you mentally decide you’d like to see that – but you would look pretty (for once) standing at his side.

If it weren’t for the fact that it’s a tad too little on your frame, as expected, squeezing all the wrong places, skin spilling over and all that (you can’t possibly know he’s picked it a size or two too small on purpose).

Especially your cleavage, meaning this is all but a dress you could just wear to parade around the streets with a gang member. It would send the wrong message. And god knows what would happen if that message were to reach someone from Toman. A blond-haired guy in particular.

Shame on you.

But you can’t dwell on it too much, with Ran bursting through the door, then closing it behind his frame with all the nonchalance in the world, as if it isn’t quite scandalous the way you’re half clad and enclosed in a tight space with a man older than you (not by much, but still), in a luxury store, with clerks circling the both of you like hawks.

He approaches your body, and you can tell he’s making a decision his head while scrutinizing the dress, or rather you, from over your shoulder.

You’re facing forward and can feel the heat of his body approaching way before you feel his front touch your back, his hands momentarily settling at your hips.

They then move lower, trying to smooth the fabric of the dress as if it would make it fit better, and you feel a shiver run through your spine at the contact.

The tips of his fingers are cold where they brush your naked thighs, so you blame it on that.

“Looks perfect on you.” his warm breath hits your neck as he speaks with that low voice of his.

Focus, goddamnit.

“I hope you’re joking. I can barely breathe, and I think my ass might be hanging out.”

You can feel his body shake with giggles, and you know he’s trying to contain them for your sake, even though he’s never been the one to shy away from public shaming, especially when it comes to you. Sigh.

“Mh, I don’t know about that, but the front looks good.” His hands make a b-line for your waist, squeezing the fat there before moving upwards to rest a breath away from your tits. The dress is so tight you didn’t need to wear a bra with that. “Gosh, would you look at that? Fucking perfect.”

“Ran,” you warn him, you know he’s just teasing you again, or rather, testing you.

You meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and you don’t want him to win one of the many little challenges he poses you with daily, so you hold his gaze, leaning the back of your head against his left shoulder.

He’s sure you’re the one tempting him at this point, deciding to play along in his little game that’s gonna ruin the both of you sooner or later, cause with that movement alone you’ve exposed your neck and cleavage like a white canvas, only his to paint.

“Fuck baby,” he groans and you feel yourself shivering once again, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? Or maybe you do, you little vixen.”

You laugh, “Is that all it takes to bring down the Haitani Ran? A dress that’s a little too small?” you want to hit his ego back, at least, for the way he’s making you feel.

So exposed and vulnerable.

And little, which you’re very much not, but the way he’s encasing you with his bigger body is making you look ridiculously tiny.

“Paired with these tits and hips yeah, might just be the one thing that’s gonna put an end to the Haitani’s reign.”

It’s mesmerizing, his tone of voice, the deep baritone laced with a hint of teasing and sass that drips from his lips like honey straight to your pliant ears and reverberates through your even more pliant body.

One of his fingers creeps up to the neckline of the dress and drags over its seams with such a delicately that you wouldn’t even have caught it if you weren’t so busy trying to follow his every move and breath, leaving the haze of his purple eyes that split second enough to record the very movement.

“Ran, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You try to hide your smirk as you say that, knowing that is not gonna stop him but rather rile him up.

He smirks back, grabbing you by the chin with his free hand so he can turn your head to face him. “Since when have you become such a prude, uh?”

“I have always been, you’re the one trying to taint my innocence, remember?”

You’re not completely joking at this point, he’s been trying to get a reaction out of you since you’ve started hanging out more frequently.

He knows you shouldn’t, but he’s adamant in getting you to admit he can rile you up just as easily.

A dark set of lashes shade his lavender hues as he stares down at you, pondering over what to do next without scaring you too badly.

“Can I kiss you?” There he goes, he just couldn’t resist himself, could he?

You just look so good, dressed in something he picked for you, standing in this tiny space with him draped around you. He wants to eat you up.

“No.”

Ouch. That hurts. How could you say no to him? Look at me, he thinks, and as if you can read his twisted mind, you do just that.

He is so irresistible, with one of his long braids slipping past your shoulder, hair tickling your skin the same way his hand is still doing over the hem of the dress. Pink full lips shaped in a pout you think he’s sporting more to get pity out of you rather than because he cares. But you’re a woman of great self-control.

Or so you thought.

“Just– you can touch me. To fix the dress.”

You two are so close, practically glued to each other, it’s not the first time it’s happened but your body still reacts like it’s being shocked every time he touches you.

And Ran thinks it’s more than he thought you’d allow yourself to go, so he does just that, to fix the dress, that is.

It’s to fix the dress that he grasps the fullness of both your tits in his big palms, no need to use one hand to hold your face to him anymore as you instantly rotate towards his frame to hide your face in the curve of his neck, soft lips pushed against his pale skin to muffle the sighs that you’re letting out at his bold move.

He doesn’t hesitate to squeeze them, pushing them up to prop the fat against the hem of the dress as if to make it fit properly, or as properly as the set image he has in his head, which is everything but proper.

“Fuck, you have such pretty tits.” He’s groaning in your ear at this point, enjoying the way you’re letting him touch you a little too much if the way he starts rubbing against you from behind is of any indication.

You can’t help your body from trying to mold to his touch, back arching and pushing against the hands caressing you over the skimpy fabric of the dress.

One of them is heading lower, running over the hills of your torso and hip before grabbing onto the flesh of your right thigh. The other keeps teasing you with precision and reaches over the hem to pull it down and expose your skin to the cold of the fitting room.

A perked nipple is encased by his long fingers, nails scraping over the bud to tease a soft moan out of your mouth. You grab onto one of his braids, slightly pulling before blindly looking for the hair tie. It’s removed with swift hands that you then run along its length to free it from the twists, so you can bury a hand at the back of his nape, pulling him towards you – as if he could get any closer – scratching the skin there as payback.

“R-Ran” your body is starting to heat up, the cold air surrounding the two of you doing nothing to cool you down. “‘Need more, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” At that the hand that has been massaging the fat of your thigh creeps under the bottom of the infamous dress, making you unable to see his next move even from the reflation of the mirror.

But you can feel him skimming over your panties with his fingertips, pressing against the wet patch that has formed there.

“You got wet just from this? Must be really desperate, uh. ‘ve barely touched you.”

What a piece of shit, you think.

But your body likes this side of his, the degrading and teasing, and it especially likes the way the pad of his finger is now pressing against your clit, unexpectedly making you let out a moan that you didn’t think you’d be capable of. Always the quiet one.

“Shh, you wouldn’t want them to hear us, now, would you?” He’s rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves, touching it just right, just like you would, alone in your room (while thinking about him, probably), making it hard to think or even remotely feel shame. “Maybe you’d like that? Mh? Want them to know making you feel good, right, pretty girl?”

When you don’t care enough to answer he pinches your clit over the wet fabric of your underwear, the whimpering noise you let out like music to his ears.

You just really want to feel his skin on yours, but too shy to ask for it you decide to do the next best thing. With the hand that is not too busy pulling the back of his head, you reach between your legs and push the fabric of your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air without a care in the world.

If desperation had a face, at this point, it would most definitely look like yours.

“Ah shit, pretty-“

“Touch me, Ran.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He finds your clit once again, not before running through the dripping folds and collecting the wetness with the pad of his fingers, just to rub it over your soft spot with careful precision.

His hand gives one final flick to your nipple before joining the other between your thighs, raising the lower hem of the dress to fully expose your wetness under the bright lights of the fitting room, just so he can take a good look in the reflection of the mirror.

You’re no saint, but also no one has ever touched you like this before, and the pleasure is pushing you to do things you probably would never even think of when the two of you are apart (but maybe you will, from this day forward).

That is why you reach down to grasp the wrist of his other hand, redirecting him to where you want to feel his touch, before slipping your fingers through his as if to show him what to do to you.

You feel his lips move against your ear before you register him talking, “Princess, you want my fingers? Hm?”

At that, you couldn’t nod faster, waiting for his touch to finally skim your opening, and once it does, you know he understands how much you need him, cause you see him raise his fingers as if to take a double look at the viscous liquid now wetting his skin. He rubs it over you then, spreading it on top of your clit to make his other hand work smoothly.

He stops right before he could slip in, making you whine in disagreement. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

All these pet names are new to you, he usually sticks to one a day, trying them out on his tongue before throwing the chosen one at you with the most annoying tone he could muster to, simply put, annoy the fuck out of you, as he does with pretty much everything else.

But the way he’s saying them now, between rushed breaths and a voice so strained that nearly makes you believe he’s the one being played with, does unspeakable things to you.

So you give in like you’ve learned to do with him lately. “R-rannie, please, want you… to touch me.”

“What do you need me to do, pretty? Speak up, use your big girl’s words.”

“Need your fingers. Inside me.” You feel like the air in the dressing room is thinning out, and you need to get this done as fast as possible.

That’s until his pointer slips past your hole. The moment his other fingers resume their rubbing over your bundle of nerves, while he’s opening you up, that’s when you actually start praying for time to stop.

Maybe if his hands were to leave your frame now you would crumble to the ground and die. That’s a new fear you have just unlocked because you don’t think you could ever go back to how life was before he made you feel what you’re feeling right now.

Alive.

Like every nerve ending is tingling and responding to the sweet sounds he’s making, or maybe the ones he’s pulling out of you. You don’t know what makes you more turned on, the effect you have on him, or the grip he has on you.

He starts moving his lone finger in and out, gently, testing out how far he can reach before you clench around him in pain.

He rubs over the ridges of your walls looking for something, trying out different patterns, and bumping against the outside of your hole with the palm of his hand to stimulate all of you once he slips completely inside, reaching as deep as his long digit permits.

At first, it doesn’t feel like much, you can tell he’s an expert but he’s just getting to know you. You think the feeling of fullness alone is enough to get a kick out of you, as long as he keeps massaging your clit in a, now, slower motion, as if he has nothing to rush about, not one care in the world. But it creeps up on you when you least expect it.

You thought he oversold himself with that oozing confidence that he sports 24/7, but as he starts laying open-mouthed kisses over your neck, running up its column, until he finds your sweet spot nested just below your ear and right by your clenching jaw, so does his finger.

“Fuuck. Oh my fucking god.” you heave.

Yeah, his lips are a godsend, but the way he’s bumping against that one spot inside of you with the tip of his digit just now is downright delicious.

He builds up a rhythm then. Fucking into you with more force and confidence, not forgetting to hit that patch of skin even for a single time.

“You like that, uh?” he asks like he doesn’t know, pressing his mouth against the underside of your jaw to drag his tongue along your salty skin, moaning at the taste. He asks as if you’re not clenching around his finger like your life depends on it, as if you want to capture it and hold him inside you to never feel empty again.

He realizes you need more, and he wants to give you his cock. Wants to stuff you full to the brim, cause he can feel how greedy your cunt is, so he knows you would eventually take him all inside, no matter how big.

You’re thinking the same, imagining how good it would feel to have him fuck you against the mirror that’s fogging up in front of you. You’re seeing the moon and the fucking stars with the tip of his finger alone. You wonder if his cock is big enough to kiss that little spot just right with his leaky tip.

He leaves you little to wonder, with the way his hips are bumping against you from behind. You can clearly make out the size of his length, now fully erected, as it rubs against your ass.

“Ran, fuck, I need more!”

And you both know that, but he also knows how ridiculously tight you are, how much he would have to open you up to take his cock, how he might need to spend hours with his head between your legs, fasting on your wet cunt just to make you loosen up. He’d do that gladly, but not now, in this fitting room.

So he just joins his pointer with his middle finger, carefully trying to fit in a second one through your squeezing muscles.

“No, Ran-“ you’re ready to beg, get on the ground on your knees, and plead him to have his way with you.

This is so not like you.

Or maybe it was, all along. You just needed someone to free you at last.

“You’re not ready to take my cock yet.” His tone is firm like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “I can barely fit two fingers in, pretty. You need to let me in, gonna make you cream around them, ‘kay?”

You swear the way he’s looking at you through the mirror alone is your undoing. You see his eyes running back and forth to your half-open ones, so you follow the gaze rolling over your exposed tits, heaving with your labored breaths, until reaching the apex of your thighs.

Two of his fingers are now plunging into your wet opening, the squelching sound being so loud to tint both of your cheeks red, and a ring of white collecting around the circumference of his digits, before dripping down your parted legs at the force of his thrusts. Your clit is still being rubbed raw, the intensity increasing with every passing minute, making you twitch in his firm grasp.

The whole picture is insanely erotic, something you haven’t even experienced in your fantasies yet.

It’s so intense that you feel your cheeks get wet from the unexpected tears now streaming down your face.

You’re a cryer, he’s elated.

You’re trying hard to muffle a scream, but Ran has you blocked in his grasp with both of his arms running over yours, so you have to turn and bite at the skin of his collarbone to do so, as you grip over his forearms, leaving behind the half-moon indentation of your nails.

He groans, letting his head lol back as you lick over the bruise; the skin has torn and you can taste the blood. As he speeds up the fingers that are massaging your clit, you realize that both of you might enjoy a little pain mixed with pleasure.

The overstimulation is so overbearing that you know you should’ve come long ago, but he’s taking you to such heights that you just can’t seem to let yourself go when alone in your bed you would have long given up and just taken a shitty orgasm as a win before retiring to sleep.

“Feel so- god, it’s so fucking good, Ran. Don’t stop, please please-“You don’t stop begging and he doesn’t stop thrusting, both his fingers and his hips behind your frame, chasing his orgasm against the plush of your ass.

He wants to pull his cock out of his pants and rub it against your skin. The dress has raised over the globes of your behind, he wishes he could just come all over it.

But he has no intention of ever slowing down his hands, not with the way you’re trembling against him, and not until you come, completely undone and fucked up from just two of his fingers.

You look so beautiful like this, with tears streaming down your reddening face, lips bitten, unfortunately not by him, and your cunt taking his fingers so well. Like the good girl he knows you are under all that sass.

He glances down at the scene one more time.

Your pussy is so pretty, glistening wet, he could finish right here and then.

He wants you to fucking come while screaming his name, no one else’s. He doesn’t care if they hear, he wants them to.

Ran wishes for more than just the clerks hearing you come undone for him.

At that thought something snaps inside of him.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Fucking tell me.” You snap out of the blubbering mess you’ve become, not because of the inexplicably angry tone of his request, but because he’s slowing down his movements and you were not expecting that.

Does he not know by now that you like his roughness? You need to come so badly.

“Please fuck don’t stop, please-“

“I said who’s making you feel this fucking good.” Ran doesn’t like to think he’s a jealous guy.

He’s The Haitani Ran, after all. There has never been any need for him to be.

But now that he has tasted heaven, here in this tiny dressing room with you, he doesn’t think he can stop.

He wants to make you his, and if that means he has to deprive you of your very first orgasm given by someone else so that you can come back running for more, so be it.

“You, Ran! Fuck it’s all you! You make me feel so go-” The slap that resonates in the small space it’s the thing that stops you from completing your praise.

Ran’s fingers have stopped moving inside of you completely, and his other hand has raised to slap your spasming cunt.

A scream of his name finally does rip out of your parted lips. There’s no way you could’ve avoided that.

And the new canting of your hips that are raising to chase a ruined orgasm is to little avail, you just don’t seem to reach the promised land.

Against all odds, Ran doesn’t resume touching you, even his hips are now resting firmly some inches away from yours, not even letting you feel him anymore.

He presses father light kisses from the column of your neck up to the side of your jaw, retracing the path he had run with languish before, until he can sweetly kiss your burning cheek as if to gently bring you down from the orgasm that never happened while he removes his fingers from inside of you, leaving you eerily empty.

“I- I didn’t come.” you’re still trembling at this point, but for a different reason. You think he might have mistaken any of your reactions for you reaching your long-awaited end.

You’ve heard some stories, you know some guys can’t even tell right from left when it comes to a woman's body.

But you’re wrong about him. “I know.”

More kisses are left on the side of your face, you’d think the gesture sweet if it weren’t for the ever-present grin you can feel against your skin.

“What- why?” the way you’re asking nearly breaks his heart, you sound so confused, broken. But that’s exactly what he needs, right? He needs to be the one to guide you.

“Because I’m not letting you come. You’re not my girl.” Your eyes are big like saucers, and you’ve turned your head to stare at him, he thinks this situation is so fun he could giggle.

“But I thought-“

“Just leave him, pretty girl. You’ve already forgotten about him, haven’t you? It was my name you were screaming, it was my cock you were begging for. Leave him, and come back crawling to me. Maybe then, I’ll think about letting you come.”

He takes some steps further away from you then, cold but still careful enough to make sure you won’t fall the moment he lets you on your own, bringing his soiled fingers up to his mouth. You watch in silence as he licks them clean. He’s making a show of it, engulfing the digits in his mouth and sucking around them as he moans. You’re so turned on you could die right there and then.

He then hits you with a “Fuck, you taste like heaven, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Before diving right back in, licking the skin one last time for safekeeping.

And now, you don’t know what’s worse: the cheshire grin stretching the pinkish of Ran’s lips while he’s downright degrading you after depriving you of an orgasm and, honestly, your self-respect;

Maybe it’s the fact that sweet Chifuyu’s face had only flashed behind your eyelids at his mention, after you’ve probably done one of the worst things you could ever do to him, or in your life, really;

… or the fact that you had to walk out of there, and wait for Ran to pay for the stained dress, cause he wouldn’t let you leave without making a scene. Knowing damn well that everyone in the shop had heard the two of you and is now looking with a mix of: reverence towards Ran, and hatred for you, by all women and men who rightfully wished to be in your stand.

At the end of the day, you were right. Fitting rooms would ever only leave you a crying mess, with clothes too little to fit; and shopping with Ran Haitani was hell made on earth.

At least you were convinced this was gonna be the last time you would ever accompany him – anywhere, really – or so you thought…

#ran haitani #ran smut #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran haitani x you #ran x y/n #ran haitani x y/n #ran x oc #ran imagines #ran haitani imagines #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #haitani brothers #haitani rindou

[romana-after-dark]

Dirty Little Secret

Darkish!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Main account @romanarose

Summary: Joel doesn't acknowledge you exist, outside of when Ellie is away and he fucks you into the mattress before sending you on your way. So, you make him jealous. Finally, Joel decides to lay his claim.

Warnings: PIV sex, riding Joel, slapping, choking, hair pulling, cutting, carving into skin, violence, possessive Joel, jealous behavior, toxic relationship? idk. If i miss anything lmk!!!! general dark content nothing like the wildness in The Wrong Way but still.

I started writing this a few weeks ago, then I saw @toxicanonymity posted something similar in their Raider Joel series. I reached out and asked if they wanted me to wait on posting this since they have similar concepts and they were kind enough to not have any problem with me posting this, but I wanted to plug their raider series anyway. It's incredible and if you like this or my raider Joel series, the wrong way, you'll love this one!!!

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Joel Miller was desperate to teach you that you belonged to him, and him alone. He’d carve it into you if he had to. 

“Think you can just whore yourself out for a drink huh?” He spoke gruffly, large hand wrapped around your neck.

“Drinks, Joel. I got one for you too, but you’ve yet to say thank y-” You were cut off by him tightening his fist around you, cutting off your airways.

“Yeah, because you stole his that he was intending on drinking with you.” As your vision began to spot, and you wondered if maybe you took things too far, he let go. “Now what the fuck was that about?”

To say you didn’t mean to upset him would be a lie, so you didn’t, but could bare to tell him the truth. The truth that you were tired of sneaking around, tired of him completely ignoring you because he didn’t want to deal with people (Maria and Tommy) telling him you were too fucking young, or having to explain anything to Ellie, although you were near  certain she already knew. You just wanted him to fucking acknowledge that you existed outside of fucking you senseless. As you were straddled across his bare lap, his cock speared inside you, and his free hand moved your hips to his liking Joel took his hand off your throat to deliver a crisp slap across your face, stinging with the anger you both felt as he hate-fucked you,

“ANSWER ME!”

“YOU IGNORE ME!” Screaming, you shove him back so that even though he sat up-right, his head hit the wall, but you don’t stop. “You won’t even fucking look at me in town” You grip the touch of grey that pepper his hair, yanking his face towards you as you continue to shout while still spit open on his cock “You avoid me like the plague and I have to sneak into your house in the middle of the night like a common!” Your anger took over, slapping him back although not nearly as hard. “Fucking!” Another slap. “Whore!” Your attempt at a back hand was stopped in its tracks by Joel bruising grip on your wrist.

You were eye-to-eye, faces no more than an inch apart and you felt like he was deciding your fate in that moment. Maybe he’d kill you, but you couldn’t find yourself regretting anything, the slapping nor flirting with the other man… you’d stood your ground, and if this was how you met your end, with Joel’s dick in you, so be it. 

His next words, however, surprised you. All the fury was still there and he spoke through gritted teeth, but he spoke nonetheless. “Don’t you ever doubt what you mean to me.”

You pause for a moment, staring him down and determined not to break… but tears welled up in your eyes and your quivers, the intensity and passion in Joel's eyes too much to bear.

“Why are you embarrassed of me?”

Quicker than you thought possible, Joel let go of your wrist and pulled you into a searing kiss, harsh and rough and full of passion. Sucking on your tongue, his hips thrust up into you, fucking you again.

“I’m not embarrassed, never.”

“Then why do you treat me like a dirty little secret?” You cry, forehead to forehead.

“I don’t- I-... I’m a mess. I didn’t want you wrapped up in that.”

“I want it all, Joel. All the mess, all the shit, everything that comes with being with you- ohmygod - I wanna meet Ellie, I want you to introduce me to Tommy as your girlfriend-mmmhhhmmph- I want everyone to know I’m yours.” You began to ride him again, invigorated by your confession. You loved him, you didn’t want to be his dirty little secret anyone.

“Then you’ll have it, sweetness, because you are mine ,” he slapped both asscheeks and squeezed then harshly, painfully. “Fucking mine .”

Joel sloppily made out with your face, missing your mouth half the time; it didn’t matter, he just wanted to devour you. Mouth hung open, you panted in time to his cock hitting inside you, allowing him to taste whenever skin he desired, to lick into your mouth when he focused enough to get there. He moved down your throat, sucking and licking an nibbling as he went.

Breathless, you whine for him. “Mark me, Joel. Please, make sure everyone knows I’m taken.”

Groaning, Joel got to work sucking painful, dark hickies on your neck, breasts, shoulder, obvious and purple and for the world to see, but it wasn’t enough. The more he marked you, the more frustrated and frantic he grew as his cock split you open wide on him. It didn’t matter, because the hickies showed you were taken, but not by who, and what’s worse? They’d fade. He palmed your breasts and with a frustrated growl, Joel clamped down on your shoulder, biting hard. Impaled on him, you scream as he bites, gripping Joel’s shoulders but never stopping rocking on him. Pulling away, he only proceeded to bite again, the blood he was drawing covering his face and he whines, he fucking whines for you.

“It’s not enough” Breathless are his words. “It’s gonna fade, it’s not enough” He bites your arm, desperate and feral for you, for your taste.

“Make it permanent, then.”

Confused, he gazes up at you, red smeared on his face, puppy dog eyes looking for answers, before reaching into the nightstand and pulling out a pocket knife.

A small smile formed on his kiss bruised lips. “Yeah, you want me to mark you up forever?”

Nodding, you beg. “Please Joel, please, carve your name into me!” You cry for him; you need this, you need him… you need to know he wants you to be his forever.

“Yeah, sweet girl? You want my name on you? You sure?”

“More than anything ” His dick is throbs inside you, and you know neither will last much long at this rate, not with how you two have been hate fucking all night.

The metal was cool on your skin, and you stopped moving so fast, not wanting t mess up with work, but Joel thrust up into you, causing you to scream for him.

“That’s it, princess, scream my name, let everyone know who's wrecking this pussy.” He kissed you, firm and passionate, before the first slit on your thigh stung on you. He wasted no time finishing the J and going on to the O. “Gonna make sure everyone knows your mine, baby, no ones gonna dare look at you with my name on you.” The E was difficult, but the way you were screaming in pain spurred him on.

“JOEL! FUCK ME, JOEL!” You begged for more, warm blood dripping down your thighs and onto the bed. 

He obliged, shifting the angle a bit and hitting that delicious spot inside you. Your screams of pain were indistinguishable from the pleasure, coming on his cock, squeezing him tight. Joel scooped up some of the blood and thrust his fingers down your throat and causing you to gag.

"Choke on your blood, baby, just like that, just like how you love to choke on my cock."

You do as you're told, tongue swirling around his fingers, but you take both hands and cover the in the blood dripping down. The, you plant your hands firmly on his chest with a slap, handprints marking him... Your nails pinch into his pecks, dragging them down and drawing blood as he shouted your name loudly. There was no way in hell you were a secret anymore.

“Making… you… mine” Joel grunted with every thrust, slicing both lines of the L as he came inside you, dropping the knife with shaking hands.

You collapse onto Joel, exhausted and in pain and dizzy, but you couldn’t find it in you to regret what the two of you had just done.

“Fuck” You hear him mutter, and you hold him close, burring your face in his neck. “What the fuck did I just do…”

But you hold him tight, not letting his post-nut clarity drag him down. “Thank you”

“For… what?” He was breathless, adrenalin and cumming all taking it out of him.

“Making me yours” You kiss his neck, sucking just enough to leave a small hickey; your own parting gift.

You can year him hum, lifting you off him and onto the bed before getting up. When he returned, he man handled you onto your none-wounded side, and began taking care of the wound. It was a while before it stopped bleeding, but Joel cleaned it, and bandaged it up with gauze.

“Do you regret it?” He asked you, but his voice sounded like he knew the answer.

“No, do you?” Your eyes drooped, but you tried to stay awake. He’d kick you out of his bed and out of his house in a little while. He always did.

“Not a single bit. ”

You saw a smile, content smile on his face and he slide into bed, and you moved to get up on your own accord he grabbed your wrist.

“Stay”

That was not what he expected. “What about Ellie?” 

Joel pulls you to him, his hand resting on your thigh that bore his name. “She’s gone tonight with a friend, but if she’s back in the morning… well, she’s 16, I think she can handle me having a lady over… just maybe don’t go to the bathroom or downstairs without me. She won’t hesitate to shoot.” Joel smiles fondly and chuckles talking about his daughter.

Looking at Joel now… he was so far removed from the man who was choking you early, the man you slapped… He was opening up his world to you, allowing you in. “I’d love to stay, Joel. If that’s what you want…”

“It is” He quickly assured, before kissing your nose. “It is, sweetness. I want you with me… forever. We can figure out the rest tomorrow, meet Ellie, meet Tommy, his kid...”

“I’ll be with you forever Joel, just like your name is always with me. Forever.”

He held you close and tight, but careful with your wound. “Forever. I am yours and you are mine, forever.”

You were no longer Joel's whore, his dirty little secret... your own little secret on your thigh was proof enough of who you belonged too.

*****************

Thank you all so much for reading!!!!!! I love you all so much!!!!

I hope you all enjoy <3

@howaboutcastiel @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#dark!joel #the last of us hbo #dark joel miller #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #dub con #fem!reader #fem reader #joel miller reader #joel miller reader insert #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou smut #dark tlou #smut #pedro pascal smut

[quitealotofsodapop]

Ok pregnant! Wukong in the Journey is officially hilarious, especially with Macaque there. Like... his whole deal is being a jealous mate who thinks these random strangers got his husband pregnant, and once he realizes its asexual, he's immediately like, "I don't care who you are nor do I like you, but this is MY mate and cub and I'm gonna protect them!!"

Yeah in the au where Macaque learns about the "Egg" early on, he first thinks "Oh sweet buddha, who did this to you!?" cus he's panicking and he certainly wasn't there when it was concieved, and he knows Wukong wouldn't be unfaithful even if they had been separated.

He instead attacks Zhu Bajie first, knowing him as the former Marshal Tianpeng who harassed Chang'e, he looks like a scumbag anyway. The pig demon is very confused.

Zhu Bajie, blocking Mac's attack with his rake: "Hey! What's this all about!?" Macaque, furious: "For getting my mate pregnant!" Zhu Bajie: *pauses* "...ok bub, Imma need a clear picture on who your mate is. This pig has raked a number of different married fields before." Macaque: *furious war cry!* *even more furious fighting ensues* Wukong, appearing on the scene: "What's going on- PLUMS!?" Macaque: "Peaches! Is this demon or any other of your diciples responsible for your unborn child?" Wukong, offended huff: "NO, and I'm mad that you'd think that way. In a manner of speaking; no one is responsible... Except you for leaving me alone under that mountain for nearly 500 years!" Macaque: *processing... remembers what Gibbon and Baboon told him about the other way a Stone Monkey can reproduce* Macaque: "OH!" Wukong: "Yeah, oh." Macaque: "I... I done goofed up and got you pregnant by not feeding you peaches when you were under there, right!? Wukong: "yES." Macaque, sheaths weapon and relaxes: "Ok. I'm taking full responsibilty, I'm not letting these monks make you fight for them when you're in this condition." Wukong, touched: "That's... kind of you. But it's technically not your baby, remember?" Macaque, drops to knees while holding Wukong's hand: "It is if you will have me back." Wukong: *fully rizzed up* "Oh..." The rest of the Pilgrims: "..." Zhu Bajie: "Phew! For once I'm glad the ape's pregnant!" Macaque & Wukong: *shoot Zhu Bajie a deadly glare."

And ofc cue the Pilgrims gaining a new party member in the form of the Six Eared Macaque, aka; "No, I'm not the Monke- actually... yes I am. That ought to keep people from gossiping about the Wukong's condition."

Because the Pilgrims (barring the quiet Ao Lie) aren't really given much insight into how the Stone Egg forms, they legit assume Macaque is the baby's father + Wukong's estranged husband/mate who's just learned about it.

Macaque doesn't like these guys that much, but he's only here to protect Wukong and their child. If that Tang Monk tries pulling that headache spell again, Mac will rip his tongue out so he can no longer speak it.

Both monkeys are super cuddly once Macaque stops being in the monkey doghouse for attempting a monk coup.

#jttw stone egged au #jttw au #stone egg talk #sun wukong #pregnancy tw #shadowpeach #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #jttw #journey the west #lego monkie kid #lmk

[e-munson666]

Definitely can we pretty please have a steddie x reader fic where reader was Steve's gf first and then steve introduced eddie a little after. Steve is more of a hard dom and eddie is definitely soft and always getting her out punishments. Steve sometimes gets jealous of how close eddie and reader have gotten but that's bc steve is kind of a dick. Anyway steve goes away on vacation with his family for like a month. During that time eddie takes this as an opportunity to completely dominate reader and he's just having so much fun experimenting without steve there telling him to things. Buuuuut reader has a pregnancy scare and eddie becomes super protective of her and when steve gets back they tell him. During one of their sessions steve gets too rough and eddie snaps on him and runs over to reader who's crying. Steve and eddie get into a big fight about bc he feels like reader should be pregnant with his baby and not eddies. Sorry if this is long.

Holy crap what a wonderful request. Please Enjoy!!!

Its so much longer than I was originally planning but I couldn't STOP lol

++Steddie x Girlfriend!Reader++

Warnings ⚠️: 18+, language, mature content, unprotected sex. Steve is MEAN. Eddie is very protective of reader. Everyone is 21.

Part 2

🖤Lady Hellfire🖤

Steve and you were together for a year before Eddie came into the picture. A decision Steve almost immediately regretted. Eddie and you were too close, and Eddie had turned Steve's sweet little submissive girlfriend into a total brat. (in Steve's opinion)

Steve was constantly catching you and Eddie curled up together or giggling at each other, and it was driving him crazy. Steve began to get harsh with you, punishing you for minor things, and Hero Eddie would always try to come to the rescue. Eddie was stealing you away from him, and Steve hated it.

"Both of you, sit" Steve demanded. He'd just gotten home from work to find you and Eddie dancing around in the kitchen while Eddie made you mac and cheese, (something Steve to him to stop doing because it always ruined your appetite for dinner later)

"Whats wrong Harrington? Your face is all scrunched again" Eddie joked, making you giggle as you sat down next to him.

"Just listen, both of you" Steve sighs, before continuing, "i have to go to Florida for a month, my grandfather is paying me to come down and help him move, so I can't get out of it."

"We need to set some ground rules of what you two can and CANT do while im gone, got it?" Steve said, folding his arms as you and Eddie exchanged confused looks.

"What, are you gonna ban me from touching our girlfriend Steve?" Eddie scoffs, knowing it wouldn't be above Steve to do so.

"No" Steve chuckles, "but I want condoms used the WHOLE time I'm gone, understand Munson?"

*

Eddie and Steve had gotten into a heated argument a few weeks back, after Eddie came inside you. Steve had made it very clear that only one person was going to breed you, and it was going to he HIM, not Eddie. You were HIS girlfriend, Eddie was just here for fun.

Of course this pissed Eddie off, reminding Steve that you were his girlfriend too, and he should get the same privileges as Steve.

*

"Yeah yeah Harrington, I remember your stupid little rule" Eddie scoffed. Steve grabbed Eddie by his shirt, forcing him to his feet.

"Listen Munson, if it wasn't for how she felt about you, I wouldn't let you stay here, don't fuckin play around with me" Steve nearly yelled, causing a loud gasp to come from your mouth.

"Steve, STOP" you pleaded, grabbing one of Steve's arms and trying to pull it away from Eddie.

Eddie shoved Steve away from him, both breathing heavily as they stared each other down. They didn't hate each other, quite the opposite, but when it came to you they were both extremely possessive, always trying to out do the other, always fighting to be your favorite.

"When do you leave Stevie?" You ask as you wrap your arms around him. "Tomorrow baby, but its ok, Eds will be here, and I'll be home before you know it" he replies, kissing your forehead repeatedly. He looked up at Eddie, mouthing an apology to him as he held you.

Eddie threw his hands up in in a silent acknowledgement and forgiveness, before joining Steve and you in a tight bear hug. You stayed like that for a few minutes, the two of you just sandwiching Steve between you, telling him how much you were going to miss him.

When it was finally bedtime, and Steve had gotten you to fall asleep, Steve turned to Eddie. "Please Eddie, take care of our girl for me" Steve whispered. "I promise I will, Stevie" Eddie whispered back, giggling softly as he mocked your nickname for the other boy.

Steve rolled his eyes, smile creeping onto his face before he shut off the bedside lamp and closed his eyes.

*

The first day that Steve was gone was a hard day for you. You hadnt been without him for very long in the year you'd been together, and knowing you wouldn't see him for an entire month made you so sad.

You were on the couch, curled up in a ball fast asleep when Eddie got home from work. "Princess, wake up, I have something for you" Eddie said softly, watching your eyes flutter open. He could tell you had been crying a lot, and that made his heart sink.

Hey Eds," you say as you become more aware. "What the fuck is that?" You giggle, noticing an obscenely large stuffed bear poorly hidden behind Eddie. "THIS, is Sir Stevenson" Eddie boasted, setting the bear next to you on the couch, "he can be Steve's cuddle stand in until he gets back, we can put that ridiculous yellow sweater that you like so much on him, and he'll smell just like your Stevie" Eddie grinned, watching the joy spread across your face.

You lept into Eddies arms, placing kiss after kiss after kiss all over his face. He was grinning so wide, happy to see you in a better mood. He quickly moved "Sir Stevenson" off of the couch saying, "he definitely does NOT need to see what im about to do to you" eyes full of lust as he layed you down.

Eddie never got the opportunity to fuck you the way he wanted, not with Steve being so controlling of him when all three of you were in bed together. He had waited for this moment for a long time, and he was beyond thrilled. He quickly undressed the both of you, trailing kisses down your body when he had finished.

He swirled his tongue around your nipples, hardening as you moaned below him. His hands grazed down your body, stopping at your core. He looked at you with blown pupils, before shoving two fingers inside you. "Fuck princess, so wet already" he growls, as he works his fingers around your walls.

Your back is arching, intense pleasure taking over your body, before you can feel an orgasm working up you feel Eddie remove his fingers, sliding them into his mouth and groaning.

Once he's licked your juices off of him, he takes his erection in his hand, teasing your entrance with his tip.

"Eddie, Steve will get mad" you squeak, realizing he was about to fuck you raw. He just chuckled before pushing his full length inside you, bottoming out with a loud moan from both of you. "Steve isn't here is he princess? Your all mine this month" he whispers in your ear as he starts thrusting at a steady pace. You wrapped your arms around Eddie as he pounded into you, knowing he was going to fill you up repeatedly, not daring to miss his chance to do what HE wants while Steve was away.

*

Its been 4 weeks since Steve left for Florida, he was coming back in seven days, needing to stay longer due to an unforseen hiccup. You and Eddie fucked like rabbits the whole time, both sore and aching, but unable to contain yourselves. The box of condoms Steve bought Eddie remained unopened, a detail Eddie knew Steve would notice, but didn't particularly care enough to do anything about it.

It was 3 days before Steve was supposed to come home, and you were not feeling good at all. You had missed your period and were throwing up almost constantly. You knew you needed to get a test, so you sat on the couch waiting for Eddie to come home so you could tell him.

Of course Eddie was petrified when you told him you needed a pregnancy test, but he happily ran down to the store and grabbed you a few boxes (just to be extra sure)

"Its positive Eddie" you say, almost unaudibly. Eddie stood next to you frozen. Steve's going to fucking KILL me, he thought to himself, before another feeling set in and replaced his fear. He was going to be a fucking dad, YOU were having his baby, and he couldn't help but feel intense pride and happiness.

He quickly wrapped himself around you, giving you reassurance that everything would be ok. "Princess its okay, I'm not going anywhere, we're gonna be okay." Tears started rolling down his cheeks as he listened to you sob, but unlike yours his tears weren't in fear of what was going on, but in joy." (And maybe a little fear)

*

As soon as Steve got home he knew something was up with you and Eddie. He didn't think much of it until he was putting his toiletries away and noticed the unopened box of condoms. Steve got furious, stomping into the bedroom, where Eddie was cuddling you.

"Get the fuck up Munson" Steve spat, tearing Eddie away from you. "Steve what the fu...." you started to ask before Steve harshly slapped you in the face. "You let him FUCK you raw, while I was gone, DIDNT YOU" Steve screamed, rage filled eyes flickering between you two. When he doesn't get a response he slaps you again, even harder. You immediately started to cry and that's where Eddie lost it.

"You don't fucking touch her like that Harrington, not when she's growing MY baby in there" he blurts out accidentally. Steve's eyes go wide, anger consuming him as he punched Eddie in the cheek.

"You fucking got her pregnant?!" He yelled, tackling Eddie to the ground, "After what I fucking told you?!"

"Steve please!" You beg. A tiny trickle of blood running down your cheek from Steve's heavy hand. He looks up at you and notices the damage he'd caused, and quickly backs away from Eddie. "Im going for a fuckin walk" he spits, chest heaving as he yanked the door open. "We need to have a talk about this...........relationship..........when I get back" he adds shooting Eddie a look before slamming the door behind him.

"Fuck" Eddie says, quickly moving over to embrace you. You sobbed into his chest, terror of what's to come eating you up. Eddie kisses the top of your head before softly whispering, "Its ok princess, I'm not gonna let anything happen to us, to our family, that's all that matters now" "I've got you"

*

*

*

A/N: this was ridiculously fun to write. Now I want to do a part two. Lemme know in the comments!!! Also I just hit 400 followers!!! How amazing is that!! I adore each and every one of you!!!

#fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie the banished #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie the hero #eddie the brave #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve the hair harrington #king steve #steddie #steddie x reader #anon ask #send me asks #asks and replies

[chaos-grimlin]

Intro:No one truly knows what happened that night in Woodsboro, California. All the public knows was that two teenage boys, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy. That the boys killed with no motive, that it was a case of crazy and peer pressure. Sidney Prescott, the "girlfriend" of Billy Loomis,Y/n L/n, the girl both boys were deeply obsessed with, and Gale weathers, a news reporter, where 3 of 5 witnesses that were willing to talk and tell their sides of the story to the public while Dewy Riley, the deputy sheriff of woodsboro, and tennager Randy Meeks refused to talk to law enforcements at the time. All the stories told to law enforcement seem to differ from person to person, but...in this tale, we will focus on Y/n, the obsessions, side of the story

Marked (Poly!Billy loomis and Stu macher x reader)

Word count: 1777

Chapter 10🌶 - Love and lust

(🌶= spicy stuff close to smut but theres no sex

🔥= full on smut like sex and all)

^^^3rd person P.O.V^^^

Weeks passed... 4 to be exact..since Y/n had founf her best friend Casey becker dead, hanging from a tree with her organs hanging out of her body.

Y/n had tried to go to school the day after finding her friend... But everything was overwhelming... Between Stu and Randy making jokes about it to the feeling of Casey's blood on her hands....ever since then.. Y/n had been out of school.

She stayed in her room, laying around, crying, or scrubbing at her body till her skin was red.

No one really cared to come and check on her other then Randy and Dewy.

Every since Randy figured out, thanks to Billy, that you were close with Casey, Randy hasn't stopped coming by after work.

Hed always come by with a new movie for you two to watch and take out food since he knew you haven't been eating.

Dewy came over but not nearly as much as Randy did. Dewy came over to make sure you were okay, and to make sure you haven't harmed yourself due to guilt.

Normally when Dewy came over he'd bring you a little something, it might be a book he thought you'd like or a donut that he got from the police department. And after a while, he started to bring Randy something too since he was always there.

You thought it was sweet of Randy and Dewy to come and check up on you since hardly no one else did.. Hell you didn't even see Sidney, Tatum, Billy, or Stu other then when Stu would see you through your open window and wave at you like.a crazy person.

You let out a sigh as you sat up from your bed and fixed your loose button up pajama shirt.

Today you wanted to get up and not look like a mess.

You stumbled into your bathroom and shut the door behind you. You looked at yourself. You had slight bags under your eyes, your hair was messy and you had slightly gone paler.

You let out a sigh and turned on the sink and started to get yourself togeather.

By the time you were done you heard knocking on your window and a small smile graced your features.

You stepped out of your bathroom, still in your loose pajamas and walked to your window, and on the other side you saw the friendly face of Randy Meeks...

^^^Y/n P.O.V^^^

My heart fluttered when I saw Randy at the window. I quickly unlocked it and pushed it open, allowing Randy to climb in.

"Hey Y/n" Randy said as he fully got himself in after almost falling.

"Hey Randy...looks like im not the one sneaking through windows now" I said with a soft smile as I sat back on my rather messy bed "yeah true..its kind of fun". "  Anyway What movies you got today?" I asked him, my eyes slowly going to his left hand which held a white plastic bag.

I saw a smile pull at the edges of Randy's lips. "Oh I didn't bring movies today" he said as he walked over to my bed and flopped down beside me.

"Well what did you bring?" I questioned, tilting my head to the side. "Oh just a shit ton of snacks and two bottles of beer" he said as he looked at me. "You okay with that?" He added. I looked at him and nodded with a smile.

Over the past 4 weeks I have grown a crush on Randy.. He was the only one other then Dewy that I think actually cared about me and he cared about keeping my mind off of Casey..

Randy pulled two bottles of beer from the bag then dumped the rest of the contents onto my bed.

My eyes scanned over everything that laid on my bed and smiled brightly. It looks like Randy had bought one of everything at the store.

I looked back at him only to meet his eyes. "Your the best Randy" My voice came out in a low whisper as I looked at him..

^^^3rd person P.O.V^^^

Randy felt his heart swell at those words.

Randy felt himself stop crushing on Sidney and start crushing on You.

He felt captivated by you... His crush on you was diffrent from the crush he had on Sidney. With Sidney.. It was a want, he realized he liked the thought of having sex with Sidney rather then dating her... But with you..he wanted to date you, he wanted something serious and intimate with you..

You were almost like a drug to him... He felt a need for you rather then a want... A need that grew stronger each time he saw you, each time he heard you, and each time he thought of you...

"Randy.. You okay?" You asked as you had noticed Randy had spaced out.

"Oh yeah" he said with a shake of his head, making you giggle. Randy pulled a small bottle opener from his pocket and opened yours and his beer.

"Now let's drink, snack, and talk shit" he said as he grinned from ear to ear.

~~~Time skip~~~

^^^Y/n P.O.V^^^

3 hours had passed and Randy and I were laughing at the most stupid shit as we finished off the last bit of the candy.

"Oh has today been fun" I said as I looked at him. Randy looked at me. "Im glad I could make it fun" he replied.

After that... The room feel silent, a comfortable silence with just us looking into each other's eyes.

I slowly moved closer to Randy and he did the same. I saw his eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, a movement that made my heart cut flips in my chest.

Randy leaned down and crashed his lips onto mine.

I let out a noise of shock and Randy pulled away as quickly as he had pressed his lips onto mine.

"I'm...im sorry..i..i-"

I cut off his rambling by cupping the side of his face and pulling him back to me, letting our lips touch once again. Sparks erupting in my stomach as oxytocin pumped through my veins.

Mine and Randy's eyes fluttered closed as Randy snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him to the point I was almost in his lap.

Randy bit softly at my lower lip as if asking me to open my mouth.

My lips parted without me even thinking about it and before I knew it, Randy had his tongue in my mouth, deeping the kiss.

I wrapped my arms around Randy's neck, intertwining my fingers in his hair as he rubbed his hand up and down my waist as his other hand rested on my ass.

My lungs started to burn and I pulled away from Randy's lips.

My eyes fluttered open and where met with Randy's grayish blue eyes.

I smiled softly at him before going back in to kiss him.

As we kissed I felt Randy slowly slip his hands up my loose button up. The feeling of his hands against my bare skin made goosebumps rise all over my body.

Randy's fingers traced shapes onto my skin as he made his way to my stomach, then he pulled away from the kiss, a string of Saliva connecting us.

Randy pulled his hands out from under my shirt as he slowly reached up to the top button of my shirt, then stopped and looked at me, as if asking for my permission.

I nodded to him and just as i did, he slowly unbuttoned my top, the pads of his fingers gingerly bushing against my skin as he did.

As soon as he unbuttoned the last button, the loose fabric slipped off of my arms, fully exposing my breasts and torso to him.

I heard Randy's breath hitch in his throat as he eyes wondered over me.

"God... Your so beautiful..." He muttered as he moved his head to the crook of my neck and slowly started to kiss, lick, suck, and bite at the tender skin.

I let out a soft moan as I moved my hands to his shirt and moved my hands up it, my hands graced over his torso.

He wasn't built, but he had very faint muscle, he was more thin then muscular..but i didnt mind it.

I moaned as his mouth sucked roughly at my neck, slowly moving down to my collar bones.

I moved my hands from his shirt and rested them on his thighs as he continued the assult on my neck and upper body.

Randy soon pulled away from my neck and pulled me into his lap. He wasted no time pulling his shirt off, then kissing me again.

I couldn't get enough of how his lips fit perfectly against mine as they moved in unison with each other.

I pushed myself closer to him till my bare chest touched his.

I felt something push against my inner thigh as I moved myself closer to Randy.

Randy's hands grabbed at my breasts and his fingers fondled with my nipples as he stuck his tongue into my mouth.

Our tongues danced as his pinched my nipples between his fingers, causing me to groan into his mouth.

I slowly started to grind my clothed cunt against his bulge as he moved his lips from my mouth and to my jaw, leaving tender kisses.

Randy moaned out as I continued grinding on him.

Randy stopped kissing me and picked me up from his lap and laid me down on my bed.

I looked up at Randy with hooded eyes only to see his eyes filled to the brim with lust and love.

I felt loved and wanted my him and he worshipped every inch of my body that was exposed to him. He started at my face, then my neck, to my shoulders, then my breasts, then my stomach, then... My waist line.

Randy looked at me as his fingers latched onto the waist band of my pajama pants.

I nodded to him and bit my lip as he egarly pulled my pants off my body and gently put them on the floor.

Randy rubbed my thighs..but... As soon as he did... The phone on my desk rang loudly...

(i know this is a poly! Billy and Stu fanfic but trust me! The Randy and Y/n stuff is setting up for other things)

#randy meeks #randy meeks x reader #randy my love #i love randy #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream #ghostface

[ughgoaway]

Heyyyyyy! I’ve been off tumblr since the holidays and just wanted to check in and say hey! How’ve you been? Happy new year!

I was using the sunflower emoji to sign off my previous asks (I always signed off with three emojis) and noticed over the break someone else adopted it (literally no worries at all — I can’t even keep track of what’s claimed and what isn’t lol) so I’m going to adopt 🔮🔮🔮 from now on lol.

Anyway just wanted to let you know the most recent blurb w/ Annie meeting her brother is eeeeverythinggggg to me and I need more. It was nice coming back on tumblr and catch up on the blurbs I missed. The teacher!au is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever read and I’ve missed the little family!!!

Also — I saw you’re post about how you’ve always thought Annie to end up with a character from another fic on tumblr and it just got me wondering what Mattys reaction would be to Annie dating/getting into her first relationship when she’s older. lol I can see him being really excited for her but also freaking out and wonder what you would think?

Lots of love!! - 🔮🔮🔮

hi my love!!! oh it's so great to hear from you!! this year has been a little shit so far, but its getting better for me! how about you???

I'm so sorry about the emoji mix up! although, you have chosen a very good replacement imo. for future reference for everyone, I have a list of claimed emoji anons in my pinned post so people know what's taken and what's not :)))) (i'll add you to it now <3)

omgggg I'm so glad you enjoyed the blurb, it was so fun to write. I love thinking about their little family growing :)))) it's so lovely to have you back and I hope you enjoyed your catch up!!! teacher au is one of your fav fics ever??? I am actually gonna cry??? oh I love youuuuuuu!!!!

oh yes... Matty's reaction would be interesting to say the least.

(rambles below the cut as usual <3)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

I think he would start off just in complete denial. He refuses to believe that his little girl has a CRUSH?? or even worse, SHE'S DATING SOMEONE????

obviously, he wants her to be happy and find love, but in his head, she is a BABY. like, no, she is not 14 years old. She was born yesterday, actually.

Annie tells you about it first. I think she wants your help her break it to her dad because she knows he will have... mixed feelings. so you sit down together to tell him, and it's just... silence for a good few seconds.

"Huh? no, no. say it again, think I misheard you, sweetheart. "

"I said I have a boyfriend"

"Oh. okay, definitely heard you right then"

but being the good dad he is, he puts on a brave face for her, "That's great peanut! what's his name? how long have you been together?"

Annie gets all shy and blushy when she explains, she doesn't give his name, but she does tell him they've been together for a month now. matty nearly does a spit take at how long he's been unaware, but holds it in and just coughs awkwardly instead.

"I'm so happy for you baby, just make sure he treats you good, yeah?"

Annie nods and assures her dad she won't let him be a dick to her (matty would normally scold her for swearing but he can't muster the energy right now), and she runs off giggling upstairs because the boy in question has just rung her.

and he is genuinely happy for her, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make him feel ancient, "dating. she's dating. oh god, I think I'm officially old. i have a DAUGHTER who is DATING???"

you comfort him and laugh lightly at his reaction, which only makes him groan and bury his face in your neck. "m'sorry baby, your reaction was just too funny. from what she's told me, he seems lovely. even writers her notes in class"

matty then shoots back and eyes you suspiciously, "Wait. you already knew? she told you before me?" his voice is squeaky as he processes the betrayal.

"Sweetheart, you can't blame her! girls always tell their mums these kind of things first. she just wanted my help to tell you anyway." That soothes matty a bit. The fact that Annie wanted to share this part of her life with him at all was something he valued massively.

"Wait. she said he sends her notes. Did she show you any?" You nod, and matty immediately starts grilling you for information.

"I can't tell you anything, Matthew, girl code!" Of course he pouts and tries to get you to crumble by pressing kisses up your neck. but you stay firm (mostly) and don't tell him ANYTHING.

now, who is Annie dating? I like to think it's someone with a connection to the boys, not baby hann - those two are more like cousins. and in this universe, George and Ross aren't parents yet. so maybe a nephew from one of them?

I think her and George's nephew could be VERY interesting... especially when those two find out about the romance lmaooooo

#so nice to have you back angel!!! #also other sunflower anon- do not worry at all!! its very easy to get confused lol #but annie dating is going to be so fun to explore #especially if its with George's nephew... #🔮🔮🔮 anon #anon! #teacher au!

[quodekash]

"why did you take me to a deserted building? you're a cop. why didn't you take me to a police station?" because hes a gay cop

PLEASE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

HE TOOK HIM TO HIS ART STUDIO

GBIOREKLBNGSD

HSDFHSHS

HHHHH IM CRYING FROM HOW HARD IM LAUGHING

IS THIS A FANFIC???? THIS JUST FEELS LIKE A FANFIC

what was that gay-ass look

also: gay ass.

I HAVE NEVER LAUGHED HARDER

HES SO STUPID

IM LAUGHING SO FREAKING HARD ALL MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY ARE CONCERNED AT THIS POINT

omg bonding?

OMG BONDING

hes so cute

minus the "-r skill"

huzzah

now kiss.

yeah, the quality in his di-

he's also the First.

i like to think im funny

IM-

YES

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE FOLKS IN THE BACK who are doodling on their pages instead of listening to their lectures GUYS LISTEN, YOU ARE ARTISTS BECAUSE YOU DO ART. ART IS ART, NO MATTER YOUR FIELD OF STUDY, IF YOU DO ART, YOU ARE, IN SOME CAPACITY, AN ARTIST

AND THIS APPLIES FOR ALL TYPES OF ART, NOT JUST PAINTING ETC, IF YOU'RE AN ACTOR, A SINGER, A DANCER, A MUSICIAN, IF YOU ARE CREATING ART IN ANY KIND OF WAY, YOU ARE AN ARTIST

Y E S.

HIS SMILE IS SO CONTAGIOUS

THE WAY I GASPED-

JUST KISS AND BE BOYFRIENDS ALREADY

(preferably, for your first (FIRST) kiss, kiss once, pull apart, and then kiss again, because then ill have an excuse to edit the bad buddy rooftop kiss music over the top of it)

AAAAAAAAAAA

THE WAY HES LEANING???

gawin has very pretty eyelashes

i keep nearly missing what hes saying because he has such pretty eyelashes and i keep getting lost in them what the hell

KiNKy????

"arrest me if you want. im up for it. do it." and then he takes his hands. and holds them. and stares into his eyes??? "What if i don't?" WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

THEY KEEP STEPPING CLOSER TO EACH OTHER AND THEYRE ALREADY IN SUPER CLOSE PROXIMITY AND ITS MAKING ME THINK THEYRE GONNA KISS BUT THEY PROBABLY WONT BUT I REALLY WANT THEM TO AND THEY KEEP GETTING MY HOPES UP

BRO. BRO. BRO. BRO.

now im simultaneously thinking of paint me (the song from firebringer), and also "jack i want you to draw me like one of your french girls" and im-

AAAAAAAAA

he technically already did but anyway

PLEASE THEYRE SO IN LOVE

IM DYING AND SCREAMING AND FALLING APART AND LOSING MY MIND AND GOING INSANE AND GOING FERAL AND IM TEARING DOWN THE WALLS OF THIS HOUSE AND DESTROYING EVERYTHING IN MY PATH THEY ARE KILLING ME

jeez this is a long post. if you made it through all this, well done bro

#quodekash watches not me for the first (FIRST) time #not me #not me series #not me the series #not me yok #not me dan #danyok #first kanaphan #fluke gawin #first kanaphan puitrakul #fluke gawin caskey

[mcalhenwrites]

I'm low on spoons right now and mostly just want to play Coral Island (doesn't hurt that it's fun), but I did get more editing done today. I managed to edit three chapters of Geckos, Automata. I'm very excited about seeing a physical copy in my hands in a few weeks! I got emotional while editing one of the early chapters and almost cried. The only reason I didn't cry is that I have trouble producing tears. Been that way for a while, but I'm realizing now... yeah that might be Sjogren's. I'll finally get to ask for testing for Sjogren's on the 15th when I go in for my appointment. Hopefully I like this pcp or I'll have change out. I needed to find a new one before I moved anyway, because my old one retired. (The one I had after that, I had an appointment months later to see her for the first time, and I ended up moving so I had to cancel it.) ("You wait too long for healthcare in countries with universal healthcare!" Wahhh have you been to the fucking US??? I waited in the ER to see someone for hours, and then they ended up admitting me to make sure I didn't fucking die. It took years to get a fibro diagnosis. Meanwhile, my Canadian friend told me they went from going in about a headache to diagnosis to surgery on a tumor within six weeks' time.) Anyway, I am afraid I do have Sjogren's. I don't really want to have the autoimmune disease that dries out my skin and eyes and mouth and also sometimes does that to vital organs that keep me alive. But I also have nearly all the fucking symptoms, and it turns out the sun exposure rashes I get might also be related to it. And it's often comorbid with fibromyalgia, which I already have a diagnosis for. I'm a little scared but I need answers. Anyway, until then, I drink lots of water and do lots of editing. It'd be nice to cry though, because I think Geckos is kind of a beautiful story at times, even with its fun chapter titles. Oh! I did rename one of the chapters from "Ghosts Live Out East" to "Uninvited Traveling Ghost Hunter" - sounded a little sillier. The next chapter is called "The Dead [Hopefully] Don't Pose Much Risk", which is actually a reference to the original story that Mortimer, Julian, and Simone are from. (And I took the necromancy from that story and put it in this one, along with a few other worldbuilding elements.) I'm excited that there are a handful of people interested in reading it. I've worked hard on it, and the story - like all my others - holds a special place in my heart. Agatha does. I hope everyone loves her. I hope this is the kind of story people love and recommend to others, haha. That'd be so cool?! But also, I just want to HOLD A PHYSICAL COPY I might do a giveaway if it sells a certain amount. I feel like it's too ambitious though.

[marshmallowgoop]

heishin for the ship bingo!

Them!! 😭

They are EVERYTHING to me: Okay, so, I've been familiar with Detective Conan for about a decade, yeah? Ten years ago is around the time that I first started watching the anime, and let me tell you: I don't remember caring for Heishin—or even Heiji!—like, at all back then. (The Reveal (Episodes 57-58) was fun, but I wouldn't say my feelings really went much deeper than that.)

But I've been rewatching, and getting way further than I ever got the first time around, and my fictional taste buds must have changed because these two have now absolutely destroyed me. I wrote my very first DCMK meta about them, and, well, I put this together for another post also about them that I've been working on, the intention being to highlight all the Heiji-Shinichi relationship analyses on my Ramblings page in order emphasize my utter infatuation with this duo, and... yeah.

Of all the Detective Conan essays listed here, 17/43 of them concern Heiji and Shinichi to some extent... and since I only update this page periodically, this list doesn't even include my last Heishin post, which would make the count 18/44.

So, nearly 41% of my writing about this series involves discussion on them... and one of these characters is only included in maybe 10% of the story.

They really, truly are so much to me.

They drive me crazy/insane /pos: Clearly! "Miss Mystery," Opening 33, has me screaming, crying, and throwing up with its depiction of their relationship...

And I flipped through the manga version of Episode 174 for the first time recently (Files 225-230), and the way that Conan imagines Heiji's smiling face when he fears that the worst happened to his friend utterly destroyed me (File 228)...

And one of my GIFs (from Episode 277) got passed around some more a bit ago, and I was once again reminded of how gently Heiji places Conan on the ground, how careful he is regardless of the minimal distance, and I once again felt like the pleading face emoji...

And have I mentioned "Conan's Dream Vacation" enough yet?

I could go on and on and on. (And considering that I've, uh, written a whole Heishin masterpost, I guess I kind of already have.)

Relationship goals <3: They've got problems, absolutely, but the way they just... sync? The way they Vibe? #Goals for sure.

They get each other. Immensely. They finish each other's sentences, come to the same conclusions at once—they both serve as a reminder to the other that they're not alone.

It's easy to meme on this panel of Shinichi in the manga (File 520), but it is beyond sweet to me that he's so eager and excited at the notion of someone just like him.

Heiji and Shinichi are genuinely a place of comfort for each other, and that is the definition of "relationship goals."

I need a 30k hurt/comfort fic on my desk by Monday: Detective Conan seems all but entirely disinterested in depicting its heroic men as vulnerable. Heck, if the "Murderer Shinichi Kudo" case (Episodes 521-523) is any indication, there's the message that a person like Shinichi would never do something like cry. He's too "strong" to.

Needless to say, the sentiment leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Relying on others and crying aren't "weak" things but human things, and one of the biggest draws of Heishin—for me, anyway!—is that Heiji and Shinichi do allow themselves to be vulnerable with each other. Shinichi admits to some of the trauma he's suffered in as soon as his third encounter with Heiji (Episodes 77-78); later, he completely opens up about the pain of hiding his identity from Ran, and he even asks Heiji for advice (Episode 189). Heiji, similarly, isn't too afraid to reveal that he cares deeply for Shinichi to Shinichi's face. He easily conveys how haunted he was by a nightmare in which Shinichi dies, with minimal prompting, in Episode 118. In Episode 479, he also lays his insecurity bare in Shinichi's presence and asks if all the criticism and mockery he's received is warranted.

Canon gives us these crumbs. Fanon can take it so much further. Shinichi spilling out details of how scared he is to Heiji, trying desperately not to freak out or cry, all while Heiji tells him that he can cry when he feels like it, just as Shinichi told Ran when they were in preschool (Episode 854). Heiji actually working through his unhealthy tendency to make everything a competition with Shinichi's help and support.

I think the focus of my last Heishin post, about how the nasty attitude Conan gives Heiji on occasion stems from his resentment that he can't be Shinichi when they're together, also lends itself well to hurt/comfort fic. What if Heiji calls out Conan's cold behavior, and he doesn't act like it's a joke or a minor nuisance for once but really communicates that it hurts to be treated like that, and Shinichi reveals the truth? Or what if Shinichi has a moment of self-reflection and regrets his cruelty when Heiji winds up seriously injured or dead on his behalf?

If you throw in potential romantic feelings, other possibilities open up. It kills Shinichi that he can't hold Ran in his arms (FUNimation's English dub for Episode 42), that he can't tell her he loves her with his own voice (Episode 3), but he doesn't think Ran's aware of his predicament. With Ran, Conan can put on an act and lie and pretend like none of his romantic feelings for her exist, and maybe that provides relief.

But Heiji is well aware of Shinichi's predicament. There's no playing a completely separate, unrelated child with Heiji; Heiji's already broken the illusion, and there's no going back to it. When Shinichi's by Heiji's side, he's by someone whom he can be himself around, whom he can't be anything but himself around, and that's got to make the impossibility of a romantic relationship a pain that festers like an open sore. There's no putting a Band-Aid on this one. No separating himself from the situation. No covering up the sting with an invented personality.

Okay, maybe that's more hurt no comfort, but there is so much potential here, I swear! Heiji isn't just the goofy, silly comic relief guy with the Osaka accent, and his relationship with Shinichi deserves more serious exploration and treatment. I think there's especially a lot that could be done with Heiji's jealousy, and—in my eyes, anyway—it stinks that canon plays Heiji's obsession with one-upping Shinichi's confession to Ran as a joke rather than the sad, insecure thing that it comes off to me as.

They're going to be the death of me: I bought a movie guidebook for The Crimson Love Letter, the 21st Conan film, which I haven't even seen yet, purely because I liked the cover art (and included poster) showing Conan and Heiji being unabashedly happy together...

And I am so tempted to get this Heishin mug set...

And I'm looking to add some Treasured Selection Blu-rays to my largely DVD-comprised DetCo collection, and while I don't believe the Treasured Selection Blu-rays for traditionally animated episodes really increase the quality that much, I'm still thinking I'll get #5 because it has The Boys on the cover (and also includes one of my favorite cases, Episodes 277-278)...

And there's also that merch from Carddass...

If nothing else, these two might be the death of my wallet!

(It's maybe also worth noting that I mostly store my DVDs for this series in 6-DVD cases, so only a select few covers are actually displayed. I purposely ordered things in a way to display the majority of the Heiji-and-Conan covers—5 out of the 7 that I own. I'm love them.)

They,,, kimss,, holde handss,,,,: I used to be like, "I don't really ship them; I just like their relationship!" And got, "Sure, Jan" in response.

But heck with it—while it's never, ever my intention to undervalue platonic bonds, I do like romance, and I'm tired of being ashamed of it! Shinichi and Heiji should open up their own detective agency and also kiss and hold hands, yes.

Which can absolutely be platonic, too! I love them either way.

#replies #tangentiallly #anonymous #ramblings #gifs i made #i'm sorry this is ridiculous ^^; #tl;dr i love them a lot! #thank you for the asks! #heishin #detective conan

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread] Night 66: Holy Palace's Aladdin

It almost feels weird to return to Aladdin right now

Weird thingies

Idk, just that giant head is kinda silly

Also, damn, Aladdin's wobbly legs

Nvm, they aren't Schehe's clones. But it still confuses me a little, cuz I feel like it's sort of implied later on that they are? But I might be misremembering thing - I'll comment on it when I get to the Magnostadt Arc. For now it's just a bit ?? Like, it's a real possibility Ohtaka didn't plan that far ahead yet.

You look really sad about it for a guy who nearly murdered him in blind rage

Ok, to be fair, I can imagine him feeling bad about it after calming down. Still, weird choice to want to explain Alma Torran to Judar instead of, idk, Yunan for example. I feel like it would have made the whole dying-and-coming-back-over-and-over-again a little more bearable. To actually know the point of that. Bc when Aladdin and Yunan talk, Yunan admits that Ugo'd never explained anything, and in that form (the blob, probably) form he couldn't ask. So. That fucking sucked.

Anyway. Giving Solomon's Wisdom to Judar? Really? I think you're putting too much faith in that guy.

F

I... forgot that's what happened. I remembered they were the same guy, but that magic turning into one? Tbh, cool.

Pretty!

Hello there, characters nobody cares about, least of all Ohtaka

Don't worry, grls, I've got u.

Look at this annoyed Alibaba, lmao

F A T E

I mean, I jest, but it's pretty cool. Fate is one of Magi's main themes, that for sure, and to have it explained the way it is, I think it really works.

Black Sun

Honestly, I just love it being explained like that. Things becoming inverted, distorted.

Idk man, there's not much I think I can say about it. The explanation is solid on its own, and it's pretty damn cool.

Tho later Ohtaka will come and try to convince us that maybe falling isn't so bad after, yeah, sure, all these brainwashed people are a good proof of that...

That's... yeah. I was thinking about it lately, cuz I was thinking about the Kou Empire Arc.

Maybe that entire becoming more powerful god than the other guy then that guy becoming more powerful than you and then you becoming more powerful than him... etc didn't come out of nowhere here, bc Hakuryuu's falling feels kind of like that. Abra is fallen, so she works against fate, so she fucked up the fate for Hakuryuu, who then proceeded to, idk, +2 to that by also falling, and, since he's not returning things to the actual fate's course, he just makes even bigger of a mess... Which is ironic as fuck. He tried to destroy Al-Thamen by literally doing what they wanted to - sowing more chaos and disasters all around, which at worst could have led the world to an end (given Judar could cause Il Illah to descend, apparently). Idk man, put some make up on to the clown music, you fucking moron.

Like, don't get me wrong, I like Hakuryuu for the most part, but Jesus Fuck he's an idiot. This is why he's constantly painted as immature. Because he fucking is immature. He never thinks things through, has no patience to speak of once he snaps, and ends up just making everything worse for everybody and himself, and wakes up with a hand in the pot, because turns out he has no idea how to handle the aftermath of his stupidass choices, because he was too busy fucking up people's minds to consider what happens after the war.

Ok rant over.

Foreshadowing

(soon) RIP Alibaba

Honestly, that's such a cool moment.

It kind of looks cute

Idk man, awesome moment all around. The fact that all of these blobs are helping him up is really cute, too

That crying Aladdin : (

Also, not gonna lie, this feels like the theme of this arc, among other things. And I'll definitely talk about it more. It's about losing the people you love, but at the same time meeting new ones, too. Of course they won't replace them, but the point is simply you're not alone.

;;;

Honestly, it just looks aweosme

#saya's magi reread #magi #aladdin #ugo #ren hakuryuu #listen i add character tags usually when i talk about them more & i kinda went on a small rant in the middle

[drac-onion]

Finished P5R

Bunch of words under the cut, honestly I'm just ranting. Figured I'd spare your timelines of a massive wall of text.

Real talk, though. I cried for like 2 hours. From 2/2 all the way to the end. I would cry for a little while, and then stop for a bit. Then I would get to a cutscene or something and the waterworks would start back up again.

Man, I just...6 years ago, I played the original Persona 5. I finished it on May 27th, 2017, a little over a month after it released. I'm kind of impressed as to how I was able to marathon the whole thing in a month while balancing college and work (although I didn't have a whole lot of time dedicated to either at the time, so whatever).

It took me nearly three years to get around to finishing Royal. I got it on launch on PS4, played it for two weeks solid, and then...sort of fell off. I blame quarantine and going a little hard in the paint on playing it every day since I had nothing else better to do, but that doesn't really matter. I was also dealing with quite a bit on my plate at the time. From my car dying (and it being entirely my fault), to losing my job, to...well, I'm not going to make this about that. I could, but I'd be here for ages if I went over everything that's happened in my life.

I just want to say how special this game is to me. The characters, the story, the music, everything just sticks with me. Even after all this time. Even after I dropped the game for three years and picked it back up on PC after transferring my save (worth the money I spent on getting my saves decrypted, if I'm honest), I never stopped loving it. I just...had some other stuff going on. Between Royal coming out and now, since I've finished it, so much has happened. It's wild to think about how much life can change in three years. Hell, how much life can change in the 6 and a half years since I finished the original. So much has happened.

Perhaps it's a little "cringe" to think so fondly of a piece of media like this (enough to shed tears). A piece of fiction. Something, at its very core, not real. Fake. Made up. But there is something about it that's real, and I can't even put it into words. But, you're just going to have to take my word for it. If you know, then you know. If that makes me cringe, then so be it. I think any piece of media can have a message, and I've always found the messages in the games I enjoy motivating. "Time never waits, so find your own meaning to life's struggle, with your heart as your guide", "Be true to yourself, no matter how painful it may be", "Stick to your values, no matter how tough things are, and change the world for the better in your own way", "Once you're at rock bottom, the only way to go is up". I wish I could apply some of these messages in my own life. I suppose the only thing stopping me is me, right? That's how that works.

God, I can feel myself wanting to cry again, but I just don't have any more tears. I think this was the emotional release I've been looking for during the last couple months. Things aren't so good for me right now, and they're about to get a lot worse now that the holidays are coming up. I...don't like this time of year, to put it simply. This will likely come up in my writing in one form or another. (Write what you know, I guess?)

Anyway, I had more stuff I wrote here, but I got waaaaaayyyy off track and into some personal places, so I'll stop myself here.

Persona, as a series, has always been so special to me. I hope that the series continues to grow in the best possible way. Can't wait to cry like a bitch when I eventually finish Persona 3 Reload!

Aaaaahhh...yeah, that one is gonna be rough, even when I know it's coming. Yep.

Well...all that said...my journey with The Phantom Thieves of Hearts isn't over quite yet...I get to ride out yet another journey with these guys...not to mention P5T coming out in around a month. I'm glad to be able to spend more time with these characters. Now, then...

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #rambles

[withmyhonesty]

Seven Bridges / Hate Control - Chapter 14

Writer: Akira Season: Summer

“... I wonder if there are things that only girls can communicate with each-other after all.”

<Same time, near the ES building [Tanabata Festival] Venue 6>

Tsukasa: Huuu, I can hear that damn crying from somewhere?!

Ritsu: Don’t say “damn”. Behave. The “Tanabata Festival” has started and the whole area around us is getting noisy, you know, so I’m sure the puppies and kittens are all excited and making a lot of noise.

Tsukasa: The scale of this year’s “Tanabata Festival” is unprecedented, isn’t it? With the exception of SS, which is held all over the country annually, this year’s Event will be one of the largest of its kind in Japan.

Ritsu: I assume... Anzu had some interesting ideas. Originally, the “Tanabata Festival” was an event that only took place on school grounds. Even if it was just an S1 live where guests could be invited from outside, it was still something that was contained from inside Yumenosaki. However, Anzu has improved the “Tanabata Festival”, or should I say “Neo Tanabata Festival” so much, that it’s become a large-scale festival that involves the entire community.

Arashi: Why did you have to rephrase it in such a lame way?

Ritsu: Weh, Nacchan is in a bad mood today. Grumpy grumpy Nacchan*.

*(TL Note: Ritsu calls Arashi “Piripiri Nacchan”, piripiri is onomatopoeia for something spicy or like a burning sensation, meaning she’s in a bad mood, but the sound can also mean a tingle sensation like when you open a bottle of soda lol.) 

Arashi: Can you stop calling me that like I’m a soda fountain or something?

Ritsu: It’s more my style though. That aside, Anzu can not let this “Tanabata Festival” go through hell.

Tsukasa: The main organiser and general manager of the “Tanabata Festival” was Anzu-Oneesama, you know? The entire project was already in motion before we got involved, so it’s not like we could just forget about it.

Ritsu: Yeah, I’m aware. This whole thing is just an harassment attack by the “Peace Party” or whatever they call themselves who are against Anzu, for whatever reason. Anzu is always brilliant, and she was going to be screwed over by them.

Tsukasa: Fufun ♪  So the plot is that us “Knights” will dashingly save her in such a terrible predicament as her knights, right? 

Ritsu: We were kind of pushing this onto Anzu, though. Plus Nacchan’s been unusually picky and said she didn’t want to participate in the school’s “Tanabata Festival”. Thanks to that, the school’s “Tanabata Festival” was nearly unable to put together a line-up of performers, and I doubted for a minute if it were able to even be a viable project.

Arashi: ......

Tsukasa: Don’t say things you don’t mean, Ritsu-senpai. As the King of “Knights”, I’m proud to say that I think I made the best decision of what was presented to us at that point in time. It is not Narukami-senpai’s fault. Of course, I am fully responsible for the course of “Knights” actions, and you have my blessing as King. I’ll always take the blame for that, rather than have someone steal the crown from right under my nose.

Arashi: Tsukasa-chan is always a good child, isn’t he?

Tsukasa: Describe me as a good king, not a good child!

Arashi: C-u-t-e ♪

Ritsu: Good king ♪ Good king ♪ Nice king ♪ Good looking guy ♪

Tsukasa: Don’t make fun of me! I’ll get super angry!?

Arashi: Ufufu. Anyway, the “Tanabata Festival” was guaranteed to be a total failure, but Anzu-chan did her best to make it work out nicely for everyone. She’s got guts, I knew she was that kind of girl.

Ritsu: Mm. “Trickstar” is like a monster, a beast that’s capable of transforming into something bigger and coming to life the more it’s cornered. I’d like to learn more from her. I feel like I tend to give up too easily.

Tsukasa: Yes, at best. Let’s learn more from our Rival.

Arashi: But... Anzu-chan, why are you so excited all of a sudden? It feels like your encounter with NEGI was the catalyst of this all -- do you really like her that much? ... I wonder if there are things that only girls can communicate with each-other after all.

Ritsu: Nacchan’s an idiot. Unusually stupid.

Arashi: What was that all of a sudden?!

Ritsu: Anzu might’ve liked this NEGI person, but I’m not sure. She’s not the type of girl who lets her likes and dislikes affect her emotionally, unlike Secchan. I won’t stop using “Secchan” as a bad word. That’s just my guess, though. Maybe Anzu saw NEGI and thought “I’ve never seen anyone like this guy before” She said she was just like her, so maybe it’s best in that way, for women to make the best of their lives in this male-dominated society. There are so many people out there who are fighting hard, up on their feet and not giving in, not losing, no matter what. I think that’s why. I think that’s what inspired me, too, thinking that I also can’t lose either. I’m not Anzu, and she doesn’t talk much or says how she feels, so it’s just my interpretation.

Arashi: I see... Anzu was encouraged thanks to NEGI. That’s wonderful. No, it’s frustrating. NEGI has become Anzu-chan’s idol. They encourage each other, help each other, push each other. They make each other feel positive and smile. Having someone like that in your life makes it shine. With song, dance, performance. It’s a way of life I can relate to, and it reminds me I’m not alone. I want to be that kind of person for Anzu-chan, for everyone in the world who needs that kind of person. Hey... Ritsu-chan, Tsukasa-chan, I want to be an idol.

Tsukasa: What are you saying?*

(TL Note: He says this in a “this is so obvious/of course you’re an idol” joking kind of way but I wasn’t sure how to make this come across well in English, so I thought I’d add a note explaining in-case it feels blunt)

Ritsu: We all feel the same way~, Nacchan. That’s why we’re together, as one unit.

Arashi: Oh, right you are. Fufu, I’m not going to sulk anymore. I’ll go back to the basics, hone my skills, and do my best with you all. (... I’m sure that the person who was by my side and departed the world, also fell in love with that version of me.) (...)

#c: narukami arashi #c: sakuma ritsu #c: suou tsukasa #s: event #w: akira #!! era

[memes-saved-me]

Okay now I've seen it all I'm scared for everyone's reactions so I'm just going to give my thoughts on that scene

I nearly threw up from crying. Like sobbing to the point I had to walk away at the end of the episode. Even though I have not felt physical heartache like that in quite some time I kind of liked it??

I loved the letter. The part where she said they could have been friends, real siblings and the sign off. I'm gonna cry just writing about it. It was perfectly Max to me. Not too sweet but just enough. Now. When I heard his voice I paused it and had to process the letter before continuing. And yeah I expected him to appear like that. I was pessimistic going in so I'm not like disappointed. It felt realistic to the plot and Dacre sold that shit. Sadie deserves all the awards for this season and that scene alone for sure.

The fact he was more alive than all the other dead people used to scare the targets stood out to me. And that tear!!! What was that?? A bit weird... but anyway I really enjoyed S4 so far. It had its moments *cough* Steve and Nancy *cough* but overall they kind of smashed it. I know some of you will hate it and disagree withe me which is fine of course but I just hope we can take what we want from this and make it our own. I already have lots of ideas lol.

I think part 2 has a lot in store and I'm excited for it

#like damn intense #stranger things spoilers #feel free to send me asks on what I think #I'm in rant/theory/praise mode lol

[violet-amet]

owl house spoilers, and thinking back on what could had been. so yeah. rambling again. but, i will say, i loved it, and it left me an emotional mess. not as much as ffxiv's shadowbringers and endwalker, but still p good without comparison.

i enjoyed the ending tbh. i love titan-luz esp. there was a lot of things i found interesting in the world building, that i wish that if the series wasnt cancelled, could had been properly explored with time, and king can unite with his father, but unfortunately... yeah. but you know, despite all the good, i do feel that having the big bad have so much mystery, but no time to explore makes his death a bit weak.

like it feels good to have him beaten down as he was, and killed straight up, but i wish i could had learned more about his backstory. his reason to be there. yes luz caused him to get where he is, but like, thats only one piece to a bigger puzzle that is the big bad's story.

i wish i could had learn more about the collector's kind. what really happened to them and what happened to the titans. i wish we could had learned more about the collector as well, because giving just three episodes to the other big "bad" isnt enough, imo, to grown attached to him. but i do think he is adorable. just a kid with too much power and too little guidance. its a shame really.

thing is, im just a viewer, not a writer, and so idk what happened or what the creators were thinking to make what they did, but i still enjoyed it. there was too much that disney missed out on, and honestly, i wish the owl house existed when i was a kid. it would make me feel proud to not only be hispanic, like i always wanted a hispanic heroine, but also glad to be weird and different. im glad that this show exists for kids that exist today.

but it is what it is. im not angry at the mouse, im more angry at the people who direct the mouse. the mouse isnt to be blamed here.

anyway thats just summoning up my thoughts on it, and i nearly did cry at the end, to see a proper happy ending after so long. i havent finished steven universe, because i heard that the ending for that is p bad, and like, honestly, i just watched a few episodes of future, and felt content with just finishing it off pre-movie. but i know that even su suffered a lot from corp meddling. it sucks.

still, despite corp nonsense, im glad these shows are being made today, and for future gens to enjoy. i hope to see more shows like these continue to be made, despite corp nonsense. i want to see more good stories.

#blah blah blabbity blah #its not perfect but i didnt really expect it to be perfect. #its great. imo. #hehe~. #the owl house #the owl house spoilers