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reverieblondie · 7 months

Text

The Dare

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Stealing Stuff, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Degrading, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Hair Pulling, Fingering, Reader is called Slut.

Summary: Hobie takes the dare game up a notch. Unexpected events ensue...

A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever so please be kind! If I missed any warnings or my grammar and spelling sucks please just let me know. I thought this idea was funny so figured I would share!

Word Count: 5,757 (still working on my editing skills so warning)

Hobie casually struts into view, wearing Peter's favorite pink robe. He has a smirk on his face. He obviously was successful in the dare.

You, Hobie, Gwen and Ben were passing time at HQ by having a friendly game of daring each other to do things, you all recently got done with a mission so it was perfect to kill time, Gwen had suggested truth or dare but Hobie said that dares only would make for a better game. It started innocently enough like reading the last text message you sent your crush, drinking a bottle of hot sauce but you can’t drink anything else for 10 minutes, and going to dance in the cafeteria to no music to see if anyone joins you, but it quickly diverted to more dangerous dares.

“I can't believe you were able to get that” Ben laughs out as Hobie strikes poses while Gwen and you cheer him on

“Oh this was nothing mate, I do believe that is your turn for a dare Miss Y/N”

You look at Hobie with a smirk, if he was trying to scare you it wasn't going to work. “I can handle whatever you throw at me Hobie, all these dares have been a cakewalk so far”

Hobie smirks, “Why don't we get you something challenging then, hm?”

You shrug feeling confident “I'm not scared of any dare”

“Any dare?”

“Yep!”

“No backing out aye?”

“No backing out” you grin, feeling that he wouldn't be able to think of anything too crazy, but you forget this is Hobie, and he loves to push the limits.

Hobie thinks for a moment, his face contorted with thought, and then a wicked smirk flashes on his face, he looks at you and leans in knowing he had a perfect dare.

“I dare you to steal a pair of Miguel's underwear” Gwen and Ben exchange shocked looks then look back at you, brows furrowed mouth agape you are equally as shocked by the request.

“What?!”

Hobie goes to repeat but is quickly cut off by you interrupting him “Eh…Please don't repeat it I heard you.” This causes Hobie to laugh

“So are you game?”

you think for a moment, that stealing Miguel’s underwear…this was definitely a challenge and a bit of a gamble on your life. But you would never hear the end of it from Hobie if you backed out now. Face riddled with concern you look up at Hobie, a fire in your eye blooms not wanting to be beaten.

“I'm game!”

You and Hobie shake hands the dare is on, no backing out now.

You first had to think about a game plan to get Miguel's underwear. It's not like you can just walk up and ask the guy, he was the big boss he could crush your head like a peanut. Plus it didn't help that you had a fat crush on him, and now you have to nab his underwear.

Taking a deep breath you headed to Miguel's room in HQ. You ducked around corners and made sure you were not being followed or looking too suspicious, though that wasn't easy to do considering you were sweating bullets. Miguel's room was known to be located at the top of HQ, being the leader and founder of the Spider Society means you get to have a penthouse suite at your job you guess.

You had only ever been to the door of his room once, you had forgotten to give him your mission reports on time so you had to hand deliver them one night at Miguel's irritated request, you remember that night having to rush the paperwork over and banging on the door, for Miguel to reveal himself in sweatpants and an oversized shirt hair lose from a recent shower. Seeing him in such a casual state had worsened your crush. Miguel just gave you the same furrowed expression he always seemed to have glued to his face, looking you up and down before he took your reports without uttering a word to you.

After that night you couldn't help but fantasize about Miguel doing more casual mundane things, like grocery shopping or maybe telling jokes to you, the guy was in a consistent state of stress so thinking about him relaxed made you excited. People might think it would be weird but hey it's your fantasy, not theirs.

Finally making your way to the top you peek around a corner looking at his door. There is no one around from what you can tell, so you check your watch. Perfect it's still afternoon, Miguel, the workaholic he is, never leaves his office early so you still have plenty of time. Sneaking over to the door you try the handle, and to your surprise…it's unlocked? Huh? Miguel should lock his room. There are some real weirdos out there, the current weirdo being you. Then again what idiot would be dumb enough to sneak into Miguel's private space? Oh yeah thanks to the dare, you!

Through the door you steadily walk in, the living room is huge, nicely lit, minimalist design, and very clean, a total opposite to Miguel's office which is dark with all kinds of clutter. A nice large sofa and a TV that hardly looks like it's ever been used decorate the space, attached to the vast living room, a kitchen with a sleek-looking island and very modern appliances, some you can't even recognize. As you go further and further in his suite, you tiptoe around looking at everything, if you didn't know this was Miguel's place you would have never thought that anyone lived here, so devoid of any kind of personality. Maybe he's just a minimalist?

As you quietly walk through the impressive suite you hear a noise that stops you in your tracks. You look and see a door that is slightly cracked, you examine the door cautiously slowly making your approach. Another noise draws you in closer, a grunt?

Thanks to your careful steps you manage to sneak to the door and peer inside without making a sound. Peering through the slit of the door you lean in to survey what caught your attention, your eyes widened at the sight and your breath instantly halts.

There he is Miguel, your leader, your crush fully nude standing in his master bedroom, head thrown back eyes screwed shut, fangs fully extended, moaning in pleasure as he tightly fucks his cock with his hand. His hips are jutting forward slightly, his angry red tip leaking glistening precum that only aids in his feverish fucking. His muscles are tense and rippling, each moan makes his massive body shake. You are mesmerized by the sight, you're sure your jaw is on the floor. You are watching Miguel O’Hara fucking his hand chasing any kind of release.

Continuing to watch his relentless pursuit, your excitement builds as you watch. Mouth dry and wanting to desperately attach yourself to his cock and lick and suck till your thirst is quenched from his release. Your thoughts run rampant, you shouldn’t be watching this, it's wrong, but you can’t take your eyes off him. His tanned skin glowing with the subtle sheen of sweat, his moans egging him on and equally you.

The whole display has you tightening your thighs together, your arousal ls pooling in your panties. He starts to move with more sloppiness, slipping incoherent words in Spanish to the air and he gets close to his high. Then to your pleasure, sticky white ropes escape him and cover his large hand painting him white. He continues to pump for a few more moments, slightly shaking as he does. He then opens his eyes, grabs a towel resting on his bed and cleans himself, as he’s cleaning he gives a small sigh looking more relaxed during his come down and takes a deep inhale from his nose. Then he stops and his face contorts to confusion, taking another whiff of the air again he looks towards the slightly ajar door.

You jump quickly backpedaling from the door, did he see you? Shit you need to hide, you quickly tiptoe to the next door finding yourself in what looks like a home office. You look around the room quickly scanning for a place to hide, a desk catches your attention, this will have to do. Quickly hiding below it you hear Miguel walking slowly into the room looking around. Heart beating rampant you place your hand over your mouth and steady your breathing, you can not get caught he will kick you out of society or worse kill you!

Miguel scratches his head and gives a slight “huh” before leaving the room and going back to the bedroom. You wait a few moments before you poke your head out cautiously. Looks all clear, you quickly go to make your escape, but then you stop the dare…you got to get that underwear, it was just a stupid game but your pride was going to get the better of you and you didn’t want to be subjected to Hobies teasing of how you couldn’t hack it after all your big talk. You swallow down your fear and turn towards the bedroom door.

You approach the door hesitantly and place your ear to it, you hear what sounds like a shower, Miguel must be doing some aftercare for himself. Taking all risks you gently open the door and peer inside your spider senses helping to guide you through feeling no immediate danger. Peering inside you see the room is empty. Walking in you look for a dresser but with no luck, the only thing you see is a large bed and nightstand, ever the minimalist huh Miguel? Your eyes go to the door on the side of the room where you hear the shower being used.

This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid! You're going to get seen! Thinking to yourself as you slowly crack open the door to the master bathroom. Looking through the crack you see a silhouette of Miguel in the shower, the glass is steamed over from the intestine heat of the water he is cleaning himself with. It’s so hot that as you carefully crawl in you feel the heat and humidity in the air thick and making it hard to breathe.

Miguel is something else to take such scouring showers. You look around, eyes darting all over the floor for any chance of dirty clothes and then to the fogged-up shower making sure he is still blissfully unaware of the invasion of privacy. Your eyes catch what looks to be another door that you are betting to be his closest, you quickly crawl over and sneak into the closet carefully shutting the door behind you.

Looking around the closet you see a variety of different clothes ranging from tee shirts and jens to luxury suits and jackets. Your attention falls to a leather jacket that you can’t help but touch, imagining how wonderful he must look in this jacket, what you wouldn’t give…you quietly slap your hands to your cheeks trying to refocus. you're on a mission here!

Surveying around your eyes lands on what seems to be a dresser. Quickly rushing over you open the first small drawer, socks in various neutral colors. Okay, drawer number two, you open and bingo! There they are Miguel’s assortment of underwear, boxers or briefs? He’s a brief man.

Eyeing the underwear you feel a tinge of embarrassment and guilt looking at his underwear, this is pretty perverse, you already watched him masterbait now taking his underwear? Well, it's only because of the dare that makes it less perverse right? You did get excited from watching him, do you have a problem? Too horny maybe? You shrug that’s something you will ponder another day, today you have a mission. Plunging your hand in the drawer you take the first pair your hand falls to, navy blue. This will have to work!

Still hearing the shower you are thankful he seems to be taking his time. Going to make your escape you head for the door, then just your luck, the shower turns off, fuck. Quickly backtracking to the closet you hide yourself leaving a crack so you peer out to watch.

Miguel wipes the fogged-up glass of the shower revealing his damp hair cascading down his forehead, the water rolling down his chiseled physique, you feel your heat dripping down as you watch. Note to self find an excuse to pour water on Miguel so you can see him dripping wet again. You watch with intrigue as he swiftly wraps his towel around his narrow waist drawing attention to his deep v.

It takes everything in you to not drool and melt away into a puddle on his floor. Every movement of his routine made you desire him more and more, you were down bad. Miguel brushes his hair back with his hands and that has you almost losing all sense, why is everything he does so sexy? You need to get a grip. Studying him you wait for an opportunity to make your escape without getting caught, just have to be patient now. He's looking at himself in the mirror looking at his jaw and inspecting his face, he then widens his lips to reveal his teeth and fangs on full display.

The sight of his fangs has you holding your breath. That’s right if you get caught he would have no problem using those things on you, actually, that’s not a terrible idea…no! Too horny, get out of here!

Miguel opens a drawer at the sink and pulls out some floss, he tentatively pulls a long string out and begins to floss around his teeth making sure to go carefully around his fangs. Why is this oddly adorable? Scary Spider man adorably flossing, and very cute. Miguel gets done flossing and licks his teeth, then something you never thought you would ever see. He smiles to himself in the mirror before quickly going back to his permanent neutral state. Too bad he doesn't smile more often; you often try to make him smile when you get to interact with him at work. Telling jokes, funny stories, smiling and waving as you pass him but nothing has ever seemed to work out for you.

Miguel sighs and shakes his head going away from the mirror to his bedroom. Okay, enough daydreaming you need to get out of here quickly. You decide the best way to sneak out is to crawl on the wall, you start scaling the wall crawling on the ceiling. He left the door to the room open so you peek your head in, and it’s all clear. You crawl through and go to exit his bedroom as you are about to get down to open the door. It swings open causing you to quickly flatten yourself to the ceiling. Miguel walks in with a bottle of water in hand still in a towel from the shower. As he is right under you he stops and sniffs, shit shit! Why does he keep doing that? Do you smell? You took a shower this morning, you should not be smelling.

As Miguel whips his head side to side you quickly and quietly slip out the bedroom before he has a chance to get wise and look up.

You quickly get down from the ceiling and start making your pursuit to the door. You did it! You made it, you got the underwear! Oh, the look on Hobie’s face is going to be priceless!

Suddenly, as you are about to reach out to the knob and make your escape, feeling the high of success you are pulled back and swiftly turned around to be met with a crimson-eyed Miguel, and he looks pissed. It’s in this moment you wish to see Miguel who was smiling but you're not getting that side of him you're getting Miguel burning with rage. “I thought I fucking smelled you…” okay wow, ouch? Do you smell bad? Before you can say anything his hand grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks “What are you doing in my room?”

You stare at him, lips puckered and eyes wide, this is how you die…

Miguel squeezes you harder “Answer me…” he growls, he’s so close to you, you can feel the vibration in his chest, his heat burning your skin his smell invading your senses, it’s intoxicating being this close, he's not wearing a shirt and only in those familiar sweatpants, you can’t help but notice your panties getting soaked. However you can’t get lost in the fantasy right now, you’ve been caught and you need to focus on not losing your life.

“I’m sorry” you mutter out as best you can. Miguel continues to stare daggers into you, he wants more of an answer than that.

“I didn’t think you would be here”

Miguel releases your face and now keeps his hands on your arms pinning you to the nearest wall. “Why would you even come in here?” He looks you up and down for a moment and that’s when he sees what’s in your hands, his eyes widening in surprise “Is that…”

“Wait! Miguel, I can explain! This isn't what it looks like!”

Miguel tilts his head at you, “Yeah? Because it looks like you're a nasty little perv”

His derogation sends shivers down your spine and makes your sex even more wet.

Miguel studies you seeing your flushed features, can he sense that you're getting turned on? The answer is yes, “I should have known you were here, your sweet scent tainting the air.”

Okay, what the hell? You furrow your eyebrows at him “Do I smell? You keep saying that I smell?”

Miguel lifts an eyebrow at your face still stern but not so much angry “I can smell your arousal pooling in your panties” he grips you tighter “I may not have that little danger alarm like the rest of you but that doesn’t mean my other senses are not heightened. And right now I can smell just how excited you are, was this your plan? Watch me, take my underwear, and get caught? Or is getting caught just a pleasant surprise for you?”

Miguel lends down whispering in the shell of your ear, his warm breath causing your skin to tingle “And don’t try to deny it”

Your breath hitches for a moment “I didn't mean to watch it was an accident”

“What about you getting so turned on?” He stares intensely at you, you feel your face flush with embarrassment and clench your thighs together. You are turned on, desperately so. His voice is so sultry, even him bullying you is causing you excitement. Looking into his red eyes his face seems less of rage and more of fascination.

“I-I couldn't help myself.”

His hands slowly slide down your arms to your waist, and he buries his head in your neck, smelling you taking you in. The feeling of his breath fanning over your skin makes you think you will instantly melt. Your eyes flutter, closed breath becomes heavy and he rubs his nose slowing up your neck. Finally, he moves away from your neck and looks at your blown-out eyes and flushed cheeks, he smirks, oh you're in danger.

Miguel suddenly turns you around pressing your chest and face to the wall, his hand grazes your ass before roughly spanking you, causing your hips to buckle forward releasing a high-pitched yelp. His weight leans on you and his knee drives up into your wet cunt, the slight friction makes your head jerk back and clit to tingle. Miguel chuckles and he brings his face into your hair smelling you before reaching and grabbing a handful of hair, pulling slightly. His lips slightly graze your ear as he speaks.

“You're a bad little slut aren't you?”

“N-no'm not”

Another spank smacks across your ass “Oh, I think you are though. Sneaking in here watching me and taking my stuff, good girls don't do that.” He purrs

He leans more into you and you can feel just how big and hard he is. Miguel's hands find the zipper to your suit slowly zipping it down “Tell me to keep going, tell me how much you want it”

Pushing yourself from the wall you nod your head, your mind hazy from the desire to be touched more. Forgetting all about pride, forgetting all about the dare, your only thoughts are your desires.

Miguel tsks at you and stops unzipping your suit “Use your words Cariño or I will stop”

“Yes, I want it! Please!” You whine slightly rubbing yourself on his knee desperate for any kind of friction.

“What are you bebé?” Releasing the zipper of your suit that now reveals your bare back to him, He swiftly brings a hand to tug your hair, he's going to make you beg and plead, isn't he? Biting your lip you feel him shove his knee further into you, his other hand going to your hip to help guide you as you rub yourself practically riding his knee like a bitch in heat as he continues his torment.

“Your needly slut! Please just take me Miguel!”

With that Miguel releases his grip from your hair and hip peeling down your suit revealing your naked body to him, he eyes you for a moment drinking in every curve and dip of your soft skin slowly running his hands down your sides whispering incoherent filth in your ear before he quickly turns you around and scoops you in his arms carrying you to his bedroom.

He practically kicks his door in tossing you on the bed, before you can get your bearings his hands are on your ankles dragging you closer. He stares intensely at you like a predator about to devour its prey.

Miguel crawls on top of you, his breath fanning over your lips, he carefully takes his thumb and swipes it over your bottom lip. “Soft…” is all he mutters before he kisses you, softly first then quickly heating up to a sloppy ravenous hunger to taste you. His hands paw all over your body squeezing all over and grabbing handfuls of you desperately. When you break away for air he can't help but

lick wet stripes on your neck then give you slight nips, his fangs slightly grazing you careful not to break your skin.

He trails down peppering kisses down your heated body, your bra is quickly tossed off of you causing your breast to bounce before him letting out a yelp to the suddenness of his action. Miguel stares for a moment watching your nipples peak, He just smirks and massages them before latching himself to your peaked nipple, first lapping with his tongue before biting with a tug. You moan and whimper at his teasing, playfully biting and licking one as he pinches and pulls the other.

He travels lower, his eyes staying on your face watching each reaction, he's studying you, he wants to note what every kiss, bite, lick, and tug does to you. When he finally reaches your heated sex he examines your panties, soft blue with a very noticeable dark spot, he rubs his middle finger across your wet panties taking in how your body shakes at his touch and you push yourself into him more. The hard-on in his sweatpants is aching to be released, but he wants to punish you for your perverted behavior.

“Look at what you have done to your pretty panties princesa, acting like a dirty slut has ruined them” his finger rubs on your clothed clit digging into your folds and ruining your underwear further. You can only moan and plead for him to continue, your cunt aching to be filled with anything, getting impossibly wetter as he continues his teasing. Rocking your hips faster on his finger desperate for friction on your clit, you really are needy.

He slaps his hand down on your clothed cunt causing you to jump and moan at the bullying. “No, rushing me princesa” he's making sure to go painfully slow, he wants you to beg for it.

He slips your panties off slowly, watching your sweetness leak out of you, your needy pussy is clenching around nothing desperate to be filled. You are a rambling mess of pleading and whimpering as Miguel tortures you with his slow lingering touches. Miguel slowly dives his face into your cunt and nose pushing your clit making your body jerk and moan, he takes in your smell getting drunk on your sweet secretion. He lifts his head and leads his head on your thigh “Such a sweet-smelling slut, you know how long you have been teasing me?”

He starts to run his finger through your slick folds “walking around me all aroused, making me have to smell you without getting to taste you”

He Plunges his finger into you, his large finger going knuckle deep and curling slowly in you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit making your vision blur from how deep he is. As you wetten he slips in another finger filling you up, your breathing becoming desperate, back starts to arch, and hands flying to your hair. He continues his pursuit moving his fingers around your gummy walls searching for that sweet spot of yours. When it's finally found you're seeing stars and clenching tightly on his fingers, your hands flying down to hold his wrist as he continues to make you ride his hand. Miguel just watches as you approach your high “Do you know what all that teasing does to a man?”

He suddenly pulls away as you are reaching your peak. His fingers are glazed with your wetness. Smiling down at you he puts his wet fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean, eyes never leaving yours. He takes them out of with mouth with a pop “Makes a man hungry Hermosa”

You have tears pooling in your eyes being robbed of your orgasm, you start begging him to continue whimpering and flustered as he just watches you beg.

“You're such a needy little slut huh?”

Nodding feverishly you agree to everything that leaves his mouth

“You know? I think I know how to correct your bad behavior”

Standing from the bed he removes his sweatpants, his hard cock flicking up to hit his stomach leaving precum in its wake. Staring intently at you he starts pumping his massive cock throbbing for friction. All you can do is watch him wide-eyed sure you saw it earlier but now it's going to be inside of you. His length and girth are so big you don't even know if it would fit in your tight pussy, but you are aquiver to try, whimpering at his display.

“We got to fuck it out of you Hermosa, you want that? You want me to fill up and teach you a lesson?”

You nod and spread your legs wider for him. Miguel slips out a moan, eyeing your spread open sex. All for him, begging for him, he almost can't help himself from immediately thrusting into you.

“Words?” he says, still pumping himself, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes I am bad, teach me a lesson! Fuck me, ah please Miguel!”

Miguel Grabs your face and laughs at you “No need to beg, such a desperate thing” he shakes his head. Teasing still makes your skin tingle and nipples to perk evermore. Truth be told he loves your begging, he's getting drunk off your eagerness for him.

He watches as your cunt clenches around nothing begging to be filled. He lines up and slowly rubs his length between your folds gathering your slick before slowly inching in his tip. His cock feels like fire as he slowly stretches you open, heating your soft slick walls. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep from clenching allowing him to slip in.

“Mm, that’s right, fit it in Hermosa”

The initial pain quickly becomes pleasure as he splits you open, heating you slowly going inch by inch stretching you deliciously. Your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and you close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over you. Suddenly Miguel slams his full length into you, filling you instantly and bullying into your cervix, the head of his cock nudging your g spot. The sensation causes your eyes to shoot open, you digging your nails into his shoulders and the air in your lungs to escape you.

“Keep your eyes open and on me”

Following his demands you watch him, eyes glaze over as you get cock drunk on his relentless rutting. Miguels just laughs as he rolls his hips back and slams into you again and again forcing you to stretch open and take him in. Usually, he would warm someone up a bit more before he starts fucking them so forcefully, but you've been a little pervert so you need to be taught what happens when you're bad. All you can do is moan and shake as he bullies your tight cunt making it form to his shape.

“That's it, baby, take it”

He continues to rut into you pulling back to the tip before slamming back in, thoroughly fucking you dumb. Eyes crossed and mouth hanging open muttering incoherently. Miguel leans down and kisses you sloppily still fucking you at a brutal pace, taking your jaw and making your mouth open wider he spits in your mouth.

“Swallow” he demains

Quickly following his demands you swallow and open your mouth again to show him how obedient you can be to him, you really are like a dog..

“Good girl” He rewards you by snaking his hand to your clit and rubbing it in circular motions.

You are quickly approaching your high toes curling, legs wrapping around Miguel's waist, and hands clawing into his back leaving scratch marks painting all the way down his back. Your walls start to clamp down on him.

“Ah, Mig ah Miguel I'm close, please!”

His massive cock abusing your sensitive spot has you seeing stars and pussy creaming all over him, leaving a white ring around his cock finally cumming around him. He continues chasing his release as he helps you ride out your orgasm. His cock continues to fill you pulsating as he reaches his orgasm. The sounds of your wet pussy and the slapping of skin fill the room. His rhythm becomes sloppy and pounding harder into you

“You hear that? Ah, such a needy pussy. Where do you want it huh? When does my dirty slut want my cum? Her stomach? Ah, Face? Mm inside?”

“Inside!” You beg, approaching your second high.

“Oh? Do you want me to fill you up? Such a greedy slut aren't you?”

You begin to see white, his relentless pace making your head empty.

“I said, Aren't you!” he pounds harder, making everything shake and you scream in pleasure.

“Yes! Im so fucking greedy!” you're practically sobbing at the pace he's set. You think you're going to break as he takes your legs and pushes your knees to your face, making him slip what you thought was impossibly deeper. Miguel angles himself that has you clamping down on him squirting out on his cock.

With that Miguel stops moving, hips completely flushed with you, his body shakes as he releases his hot thick cum inside of you giving out a moan that vibrates through his wide chest. His hot load warms your insides, mixing in with your release causing you to shudder. Miguel looks down at you and smiles still staying in you, he leans his massive body over you and kisses you while pulling out. The emptiness makes you whine and he quickly goes to look at his handy work.

He holds your ankles out so you have to be stretched before him, your abused clit red and sensitive, your hole filled with his sperm leaking out. Quickly taking his thumb to the escaping mess he pushes it back into your hole causing you to shake with overstimulation.

“Mm, Such a pretty mess baby.”

Miguel gets up and heads to his door, he turns to look at your tired body glowing with sweat.

“I'm going to get you some water, when I get back you better prepare yourself, I'm not done punishing you.”

You close your thighs together, his words sending a shiver of anticipation back through you as you bite your lip watching him leave.

You will have to thank Hobie later for picking this dare.

---

Miguel laughs, “So you came here to steal my underwear for a dare?” You look over at him with a smirk admiring his nude body in such a relaxed state and giving that smile you have been so desperately dreaming for.

Eventually, you told him all about the dare game and how you ended up here. You're searching all over the floor for your underwear in the mess of bedding that found its way to the floor in a messy heap.

“Look I am not going to back down from a dare, now where are…”.

Miguel whistles and you look up at him as he's holding up your underwear; you reach to grab them from him but he pulls them back causing you to crash down on his bare chest. His other hand instantly curled around you to hold you to him. Once red eyes now dulling down to a brown as he just holds and smiles at you.

“Take mine, do what you need to do and I will keep these” He balls up your underwear and holds them in a fist behind his head.

You give him a suspicious look “Why do you want to hang on to them?”

Miguel chuckles and looks back at you “To make sure you'll come back”

---

Later you find Hobie, Quin, and Ben sitting down chatting, you march up to the table and throw the navy blue underwear down on the table. They all look at you stunned at the item of clothing in front of them. Your hair was disheveled, lips red and swollen from being kissed, and cheeks still painted with a bit of blush. Hobie raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down noting your appearance, then he smirks.

“And what took you so long?”

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1K notes · View notes

messiahzzz · 5 months

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thank you sm for the ask!! 💕 i’m glad you enjoy my posts and it is not a strange request by any means!

note: this is merely my read on gale’s sexual preferences/kinks. i don’t want to police anyone on their headcanons or claim they are “incorrect”. since the game doesn’t provide too much detail, many things remain up to interpretation. (and lest we forget fanfiction has always encouraged the exploration of dynamics that may not be present in canon.)

gale is a character who isn’t interested in walking the straight and narrow route. he is all about new experiences, favoring non-traditional means, putting his own spin on things, and the thrill of seeking the forbidden. the sheer romance of the uncharted and the unknown. he is enthusiastic in almost every aspect and possesses an infectious zest for life. in regards to his sexual preferences, this translates into an eagerness to explore, witness new sensations, and reach new heights together. while approaching the topic of sexuality with a generally playful, adventurous attitude.

if you’re looking for harder kinks, however — i don’t believe gale is the character for you. and in case it needs to be said again: there is nothing wrong with being vanilla.

initially, i see gale as a switch, who gravitates more towards assuming a dominant role, due to his ever-present desire to give and to impress. i do think he enjoys giving up control, yet you still have to actively convince him to let himself go and be spoiled for once. his first focus will always be to fulfill his partner's needs and drown them in his all-encompassing love and adoration. i also believe that gale will grow more comfortable with being the center of attention, once their relationship has reached a point of total security (and he had ample opportunities to show in just how many ways he can wow them). gale is not a strict dom, nor a sub. in his ideal relationship roles would be discarded entirely, deeming them too restrictive in his expression of intimacy with a trusted partner. it’s all about variety and ridding oneself of the shackles of the worldly, after all. melting into one perfect whole, not knowing where he ends and his partner begins.

gale: we are all sensual vessels. illusory magic lets us sail farther, and feel more deeply.

gale: [..] i could use the weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning.

based on what we know about gale, these could be some of his kinks:

lots of praise (this is non-negotiable), sensation/temperature play (waxplay, electrostimulation/all the many perks magic has to offer), sensory deprivation, light restrictions and bondage, the occasional roleplay, katoptronophilia (self-explanatory), altered mental-states (hypnosis, psychedelics), orgasm control & denial, body worship, olfactophilia and given his propensity towards verbosity: narratophilia and some very inventive dirty talk. as for my own self-indulgent take: due to the recurring emphasis on hands during his romance, as well as his being the main tool in how he shapes and navigates the world: quirofilia.

nodecontext: flustered, standing in front of his romance partner in bondage gear. not necessarily uncomfortable with the bondage aspect, just trying to stay focused.

now, what are gale’s hard-limits?

gale, after the player received loviatar's blessing: your hide, your choice. not quite my cup of tea though.

while projecting your own kinks and fantasies onto fictional characters is fine and well, disregarding and ignoring the source material (and the character's stated boundaries) is another matter entirely. fanon!gale is rather ooc and very different from his canon portrayal, which is something that tends to irk me. although this remains a common fandom phenomenon.

personally, i don’t see gale as someone who enjoys pain of any kind, be it giving or receiving (with the exception of spanking and light choking, if a certain mood strikes. although it is kept mostly playful). contrary to what fandom may claim, having self-worth issues, being loquacious, emotionally expressive, and vulnerability-seeking (as well as being commonly perceived as arrogant and insufferable) doesn't automatically equal having repressed masochistic tendencies. he could be convinced to dip a toe into sadism, but only upon his partner’s insistence. although i doubt he himself would find enjoyment in that.

the same applies to degradation/humiliation. i doubt that a character who is still very much struggling with inherent self-worth issues and a general feeling of being defective/not worthy would derive sexual gratification from being degraded. yes, it can certainly be healing for some, but gale doesn’t strike me as someone who would find particular enjoyment in that. quite the contrary, actually. nor would he like to do the degrading for that matter (he would vehemently refuse. all he wants to do is sing your praises.) gale wouldn’t enjoy being leashed and/or collared in any way either. the prospect of being tied up or restricted is rather intriguing, cause it serves to center one’s vulnerability while also allowing for more intense sensations. anything that taps into the puppy play/slave territory tho? he would find it demeaning… and, quite frankly, silly.

gale is also not a voyeur, nor a cuck. the entire scene with the drow twins leans way too much into dub-con territory for my tastes. the only way you can get him to participate at all is by rolling a persuasion check with DC 25. in every other dialogue option, he immediately (and explicitly) declines. even if you do manage to pass the persuasion check, he is still very hesitant about participating.

gale: i might enjoy watching you tangled up with the drow, as long as i was five paces back.

he then immediately runs from the room, because sending a simulacrum in his place was the only way to somewhat remove himself from the situation while still being able to please tav. because of course he wants to please and clearly this is important to tav so he might just… have to discard his reservations and... just go through with it?!

gale: well i suppose it would do no good to back out now. let us begin this little anthropological study, if we must.

i am aware that fandom uses the fact that his “orb lit up in telltale excitement” as a justification that persuading him was the right choice, as well as confirmation that he was secretly into it and “just needed a little push" to explore his desires/get out of his comfort zone. that implication alone is very suspect and goes straight into the sort of logic abusers often use. you can be physically aroused by certain scenes, images, or sounds, even while being visibly uncomfortable with the presented scenario. it is a natural response that you can’t often control. which is what he is showing throughout the entire scene: discomfort. he was coerced into this situation, without any prior discussion or an opportunity to talk about his boundaries. furthermore, this is what he has to say if you approach him after the threesome:

gale: ahem. i hope you're not here to ask about our recent, erm, activities. i'd rather those were consigned to the footnotes of our romance, if it's all the same with you.

since he is strictly monogamous, any arrangement involving another person is also a no. he made this rather clear when tav sought him out after receiving halsin's proposal. him being monogamous isn't solely rooted in his trauma, it isn't something he has to “overcome” in order to heal, nor does it mean that their relationship is any less fulfilling. call him greedy, stubborn, or old-fashioned, but he cannot comfortably agree to that.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #now what do i even tag this as?#coercion cw #degradation tw #humiliation tw #will have to do some more thinking about the whole “gale has a breeding kink” take #as of now i don't believe that it is a kink nor a squick of his #as long as there's no actual risk of pregnancy involved that is #btw guys i love answering these #if you enjoy reading my long ass posts feel free to clutter my inbox #it speaks

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 3 months

Note

Um, hi! Regarding that other anonymous asker wondering about the comic's enjoyability, I actually WAS one of the people who voted "I've never watched the show but I do read the comic" in that poll; all my prior knowledge about Steven Universe was from passive osmosis. I don't know anyone personally who likes it either, my baseline is limited to, like, the premise and 'hey I think that one's a major character?' every now and then (this was most recently Lapis Lazuli. Peridot I'm prettttty sure is canon, but I didn't recognise her right off. Betting that Sea Glass isn't. No clue about Jasper).

So if it's of any help, from my experience I do think that your comic is fairly accessible to folks outwith the Steven Universe fandom! I read long-form fanfiction for media I know nothing about on a regular basis, and it does a good job of explaining the core concepts required for the plot to hold water; it makes it much harder to spot foreshadowing that I feel may have been more obvious to experienced readers (e.g. I didn't get anywhere near working out Earl's issue because I didn't know that A. White Diamond could do mind control, or B. what societal role Pearl-class gems (is that the term?) hold relative to the Diamonds), but the actual narrative itself holds up well so long as you're willing to put the thought in. Actively following your blog helps a bit too, I've gotten extra context clues from the FAQ and asks you've answered.

My one warning would be that reading a long-form story for a fandom you don't know is a very different experience. The best way I could describe it is akin to reading Arthurian stories or folkloric retellings without studying the source material: while the main narrative is comprehensible, you become distinctly aware that certain parts are name-checking their original culture in a way that the author expects to be apparent but isn't, not to you. I spend a lot of time faintly baffled when I'm not cross-referencing between multiple fics for commonalities to reverse-engineer (also do that regularly, would recommend), which is fine! It's fun! Might not be for everyone, though.

I just want you to know I love this ask, and I was enraptured reading this. It's a very cool insight! Especially as someone with the exact opposite reading philosophy, this is extremely valuable.

It's neat to also get a confirmation about the fact that a lot of over-the-top stuff that was meant to echo the original show might not get pinged by those who aren't familiar with the original. Though to be fair, people didn't quite pick up on what was happening with Earl even when they knew what White Diamond's powers were.

I also find it hilarious to realize that Jasper might not be a recognizable original-show character to most outsiders. DEMOTED!

#chekhov answers

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jaynovz · 8 months

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In discussions about the finale of Black Sails, one of the things I often see is folks hard-focusing on Flint's fate, in an either-or binary fashion, usually presented as "Which do you believe-- that Silver killed him? or sent him to the plantation?"

Now, for posterity's sake, gonna mention a few things-- first off, that's simply not thinking broadly enough. There are farrrr more than two options here and I've come up with my share of the reallyyyyy bad ones for sure. Whatever your mind chooses, none of those are happy endings anyway, there are bittersweet, bad, and worse endings all the way down. (They are paused, they are in a time loop, and also all endings and no endings are happening simultaneously)

But also, the more cogent point is that, it doesn't actually matter what happened *to Flint* The story is... not actually about him at that point. We have transitioned from Flint as protag to Silver as protag, setting up for (the fanfiction that Black Sails has ended up making of, ugh, king shit) Treasure Island.

And so, I just, don't find it to be of particular interest exploring what we think Flint is actually doing or if he's alive for real. What is EXTREMELY interesting to explore though is how Silver's speech at the end to Madi is sort of giving Thomas back to Flint as a pacifier/comfort object, but how... Silver is giving Flint that thing in his own mind as his own type of pacifier/comfort object.

That's the REALLY chewy bit. What actually happens to Flint is not the purpose of that scene for me, of Silver's recounting of events to Madi. It's more about... projection. It's about how Silver is dealing with whatever happened to Flint/whatever he did.

And I just feel like it's missing the point to focus so hard on if Flint is alive or not.

He is the ghost of the story regardless, that's what's important. He's going to haunt the narrative for the rest of everyone's lives. No one has been untouched or unscarred by coming into contact with Captain Flint; he has a forever legacy. I'm not the first to call him this, but he's Schrödinger's Flint and he's staying that way.

But this?

"No. I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. The man you know could never let go of his war. For if he were to exclude it from himself, he would not be able to understand himself. So I had to return him to an earlier state of being. One in which he could function without the war. Without the violence. Without us. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past... and undo it. There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be. He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own. It was a strange experience to see something from it... so unexpected. I choose to believe it... because it wasn't the man I had come to know at all... but one who existed beforehand... waking from a long... and terrible nightmare. Reorienting to the daylight... and the world as it existed before he first closed his eyes... letting the memory of the nightmare fade away. You may think what you want of me. I will draw comfort in the knowledge that you're alive to think it. But I'm not the villain you fear I am. I'm not him."

This is the speech of a man who is self-soothing, who is spinning himself a tale, who is projecting, who is coping.

and THAT is just, way chewier, innit?

#Now that's just from a canon point of view #once we start to delve into like fan fiction #Because fic must necessarily change the story and change canon because it's creating something new #so of course then figuring out what you want to do with flint post canon is necessary #but for me fanfiction is a different realm than canon only based meta conversations about the show #black sails meta #long post #black sails #john silver #james flint #thoughts #black sails spoilers #I was coaxed into writing my group chat meta into a post by the Committee mwah

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schala-la · 2 months

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One thing about the Emperor romance I love the most is the concept of a beautiful, interesting and admirable mind.

I love the idea that their romance is not about physical appearance or sex appeal but rather about the state of your/Tavs mind.

Even when refusing the tadpole, the Emperor comments on your conversations he enjoyed and that you are an interesting fella. Obviously with mental limitations but still, admirable.

Not even once he comments on your physical appearance which, let's be honest, would be an easy take when trying to manipulate you, since everybody spends 3 hours in the character creation and all my Tavs are pure divine!

But naaah, that's just not his flirting style, he enjoys every wrinkle of your brain though and he's telling you about it.

When you take the special tadpole he calls you "Exquisite!" but again, this has nothing to do with your black-teeth-and-black-eyed-half-illithid-self but with your evolved mind which became even more interesting to him.

He loves your mind, your thoughts, the power you have with it and also the bond he can share with you, now that you are more "compatible".

I think this bond between two beings beyond their physical form is such a beautiful and interesting concept.

Also to know someone in such a deep and profound level is indimidating but also thrilling at the same time.

I love it and I love those few Emperor/Tav fanfictions which focus on this concept. You give me LIFE!

I even think this is the concept I love the most in BG3.

Oh, to be loved by someone only for your exquisite wrinkled mind.

#bg3 emperor #baldursgate3spoilers #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldursgate3 #bg3 dream visitor #bg3 dream guardian #the emperor bg3 #wrinkled mind #beautiful mind #my tadpole makes me beautiful

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hanetea · 2 months

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Flowers in the Winter

| Persephone retelling but make it Gojo Satoru x Reader! | Part 1 | part 2

Summary: 6 months of the year I am technically married to Satoru Gojo; and the other 6 months, well... I still am married to him. Word count: 1.3k CWs: Teen!Gojo, he's a warning in itself..., Timid!reader, Reader!POV Canon compliant till I say so, rom-com, slow-burn, how slow? maybe like 3 chapters slow, fluff, angst, eventual smut a/n: Hi everyone :D this is my first fic back into fanfiction, currently there is no beta reader and this is mildly edited, hope you guys enjoy regardless

6 months of the year I am technically married to Satoru Gojo; and the other 6 months, well, I still am married to him.

"But where is he?" Suki with a mouthful of chips asks as I play with the ring on my finger.

"Hes in Tokyo" which gains an audible gasp and Ohs by my group of friends.

"That's so far!!"

"So he's a city boy?"

"How do you guys talk to each other?"

‘We don't really talk at all when we are far away actually.’ I thought nervously rotating my ring more.

"6 months and we can go back to our normal lives " his back is turned against me as he ruffles his hair trying to undo the hair gel that was keeping his unruly white hair slicked back for the ceremony.

I jump at his loud groans and sighs as he tries to loosen his Kimono, trying to be comfortable inside his room. Honestly, probably ready to slip booty naked with the way he reached for his oversized shirt as if preparing to change. The problem was that I, the recently wedded bride, was also in that space.

‘Moreover, what does he mean by 6 months?’

"This is so tacky, honestly those oldies just do whatever they want" he grumbles under his breath, huffing and puffing around.

But all I could do was hold a small smile, too nervous to say anything.

'Satoru Gojo is not a kind man' my mother and her teachings engrained how much of an insult to empathy Satoru Gojo is. She made sure our interactions before the confirmation of vows was limited to zero. This was the first time I ever interacted with this man, and first time to be in his presence without my mother as well. If I didn't vomit from sheer nerves during the ceremony, there's certainly nothing stopping me now.

"MAN!! tradition sucks absolute ass!" His voice bouncing off the walls without a care of his vulgar language nor his tone.

The Gojo clan, whose strength is only possessed when a child with the 6 eyes and limitless technique is blessed into the family, has a tradition of getting married young. Satoru Gojo, blessed with both, was forced into marriage at 15, to a wife of their choosing.

While I, however, possess no cursed technique, and contain an abysmally low supply of cursed energy, The Gojos must see something in me as to why I was chosen right? Maybe they think me and the young heir could get along because of our similar ages-

"Are you mute or something? Staying quiet like that isn't going to make my mood any better y’know"

Ahhh this man is so rude.

"6 months is a lot of time away from each other though" Tsukasa says while fixing her empty bento box, ready to put it away.

"We aren't exactly talking during those 6 months" I said while sipping my tea as I got pitiful eyes from the two of them.

"Like... zero contact?" Suki asked, to which I nodded.

They both groan in unison, typical for 16 year old girls who have only been in an all girls school. Who wants nothing more but the excitement of a budding romance.

Unfortunately for them, there was nothing exciting, or romantic about yours.

"That's so lame! And he doesn't call you at all?" Tsukasa pushes

"He does, he calls the night before I visit him" which the conversation only contains with 'you coming?' 'Yes' 'okay see you then' . Not that I ever looked forward to it anyways since it's always at 12am on the dot.

"But you usually visit him at their family home right? So this will be your first time visiting him in his new Tokyo school." Suki points out. Gojo recently got accepted into the Tokyo technical school, the students there are supposed to dorm within school grounds, so instead of his family house I'll be staying with him on campus.

That is, if he's even staying there at all...

"I don't know, i don't even know which station to go..." I couldn't even eat the past 3 weeks just thinking about it.

"WAIT you're telling me..."

"No way..."

Because Satoru gojo refuses to contact with me during the 6 months,

I don't even know where I should be staying for this visit.

–

“Baby…” my mother looms at my bedroom door as I’m crouched to the floor, packing what was the last of my personal items before disappearing from her sight for 6 months.

This was the second year after my wedding doing this bizarre arrangement. Not a day goes by with her constantly reminding me of how many months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds I have left before I leave, But I know that it never gets easy for her to see me go.

“Must that child continue to torment me by hogging you all to himself?” she says with venom in her voice.

But it never gets easier how much she hates Satoru Gojo.

“Since Gojo is a student for Jujutsu technical school, I doubt I’d spend a lot of time with him… him being a sorcerer and all…” I said meekly hoping not to fan her anger even more.

She turns away with a scoff, “I'd very much like it if he didn’t show his face to you at all” she leaves with weight in her steps and a temper that could cook an egg.

“But…” a marriage where the couple avoid each other even as far as living so far away, is not so unheard of in jujutsu society. After all, you can force a marriage all you want but you can't force the couple to like each other. Then again most sorcerers, if given the choice, wouldn't bother with getting along with their wedded partners and would rather choose a life of avoidance from each other. You can't exactly miss someone you don't know.

‘But I don't want a marriage like that’ I sighed inwardly,

A little thud rang inside my room as I turn to see a picture frame plop face flat. “Ahh I hope it didn’t crack-” it was a picture of me, and a picture of my husband, Satoru Gojo. It was our wedding picture.

Our faces were very monotonous, most wedding pictures are usually done without any smiles. But ours however, shined juvenile unease. Mostly coming from me. I caught myself smiling a little, as I carefully touched the picture. After all, despite me being so obvious with my nervousness, the one who really takes the cake is the man blessed with the six eyes pouting. I sure do hope it's not because he's mad that he’s married to me-

RINGGG

The picture frame leaps from my hand at the noise, and I barely caught it mid flight. I turn around to see a bright flashing of light coming from my phone, with the contact name ‘Satoru Gojo’ displayed on its screen.

‘Shoot! It's already 12??’ I internally scream, scrambling to grab my phone. It's a ritual for me to walk around my room to wait for his call, just to not sound jumpy, I mean after all this is my first time hearing from him in months!

‘Ahh will he get mad that I made him wait?” I tap the phone on my chin pondering,

RINGGG

I mentally scream as I click the answer button, I'll worry about panicking later.

There was light shuffling on the other side, I crossed my fingers hopping I don't get yelled at for not answering fast enough-

“Hello? Were you busy? You took a while to answer the phone.” suddenly I felt everything around me stop for a second

I carefully looked back at the caller I.D., But it clearly displayed the name ‘Satoru Gojo’

“I’m sorry but who’s this?”

“HUH!?” for the voice in the other line belonged to a 16 year old Gojo, who’s voice dropped a few octaves making him sound like a completely different person.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fandom #haneblurbs #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n

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bloodblanks · 1 year

Text

punishment

ft: eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, ben drowned, slenderman

author's note: this fanfiction will contain dark content, including abuse, violence, gaslighting, kidnapping, ‘yandere’ tropes, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

eyeless jack

jack isn’t that much of a sadist.

that much.

however, he’s still not someone you would want to risk upsetting. not in general, but especially not as his captive. because while he doesn’t enjoy it that much, he still enjoys it far more than he likely should, far more than you would want him to.

but why wouldn’t he?

how could he resist the soft whimpers that’d leave your lips as your eyes watered up, starting to fill with the tears that oh so delightfully trickled down the sides of your cheeks at the sight of his blade? how could he resist the way you’d cry out, gasping and hissing as he ran it along the surface of your skin, occasionally applying a bit more pressure for good measure? how could he resist the delectable scent that’d overwhelm his senses, the scent emanating from the precious droplets of blood that would start to bead up in thin, carefully carved red lines? how could he resist the shudders of your body as you trembled in fear, squirming in place but unable to escape as he pressed his tongue along your freshly made wounds? how could he resist the feeling of you flinching reflexively each time he licked at the injury, greedily lapping up every last drop?

that’s right—jack’s idea of punishment is to bring out his favourite and most signature instrument, the scalpel.

not only is it a highly effective way to remind you that you’re at his mercy and that alone, but it’s also undeniably delightful for him, with the way that he can indulge in both your reactions as well as the taste of your blood that would drip out with each precise incision he’d make.

but sometimes, that wouldn’t be enough. sometimes, you’d really misbehave, pushing the limits of his patience.

in those cases, then he’d show you just who, or what you were messing with.

he’d do everything he did to you with the scalpel, but in his demon form.

he’d strap you down, nice and tight against his operating table, make sure you’re unable to move an inch, and then he’d lick his lips, with all three of his forked tongues as he showcased the row of shark-like fangs he possessed.

the fear in your eyes when he did so—he couldn’t get enough of it.

but that wouldn’t be the end of it, oh no, he had a lot more planned in store for you.

he’d rake his razor sharp teeth against your delicate skin, easily slicing it open. he wouldn’t cut too deep with them, because he was only just beginning. he was saving the best for last, after all.

he’d have his fun, scratching you up like a lottery ticket as you tried helplessly to struggle against your bindings, anything to relieve the pain you were experiencing.

but when he’d eventually tire of it, he couldn’t help but then bite down, plunging each of his fangs inside the tenderness of your flesh, sinking his teeth in as deep as he could, listening to the sound of your screams echo in the empty operating room. screams that gradually quieted down into choked sobs as he finally pulled his teeth out, drinking up the blood that had streamed down the sides of your body and spilled onto the metal table.

of course, when he eventually finishes, he’ll make sure to disinfect every wound of yours, whispering words of praise, comforting you as he undoes your bindings, even though you’re too exhausted and tormented to even want to move at that point.

“i know, i know it hurts.”

“you’ll be okay soon.”

he’ll kiss away your tears, bandage you up with such gentleness and care that you’d struggle believing that he’s the same person as the one that had mercilessly mutilated you mere minutes ago.

because in those moments, he’ll almost seem like a guardian angel, but that would be nothing but a façade.

a façade masking how much of a monster he truly is.

masky

things are very simple and straight forward with tim—you misbehave, you get hit. easy as that.

tim is violent and impulsive and very much does enjoy hurting you. it doesn’t take a lot to anger him, especially if it’s along the lines of disrespect. tim has a short fuse, and his horrible control of his own emotions combined with his sadistic nature makes him more than dangerous to upset.

although, it was more than that. tim also is a control freak, he wants to assert his dominance and he wants you to know that you have absolutely no power, and no choice. it’s either his way or…

or he’ll backhand you across the face, knock you to the ground, before picking you up by your collar just to throw you across the room and slam you into the wall behind you. or he’ll wrap his hands around your fragile little throat, and squeeze all the while you’re desperately clawing at his wrists, prying at his fingers as your vision turns hazy—he loved your feeble attempt at trying to stop him, it only made him feel more powerful. or he’ll rough you up with his switchblade, slicing up the surface of your skin, or just holding it to your cheek and threatening to mutilate your pretty little face.

his favourite was easily the belt though. he’d use the metal end.

there was nothing more delightful to him than having you face the wall, hands pressed to the cold cement as he struck you with the belt, angry red markings instantly appearing on your skin from the impact.

he couldn’t get enough of your reactions. it only spurred him on more whenever you’d cry, and he’d make that blatantly obvious, telling you how much it just made him want to continue. but holding back your tears wasn’t an option either, because then it’d just make him want to beat you until you finally broke.

there was no winning with tim.

sometimes, if he hadn’t had enough after all the physical abuse he’d inflict upon you, he’d starve you or deny you access to water. if you hadn’t already been begging him to stop hurting you earlier, you’d start now, pleading for him to please just give you something to eat or drink. he loved the power trip he’d get from seeing you kneeling in front of him and apologizing and begging for him to just have mercy on you, just this once, desperately promising that you’ll never do whatever it was that you did again.

tim loved the look of you chained or tied up, and sometimes he’d make sure that you couldn’t move an inch if you had dared upset him. it wouldn’t matter if your arms or legs were cramping, if you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore from the blood flow being cut off in your wrists, he didn’t care. if anything, he liked it.

but sometimes he’d purposefully leave you untied, just so he could watch your pathetic efforts at defending yourself. oh, his favourite was watching you try to crawl away from him and escape.

he had no problem just leaving you there, curled up in the fetal position and crying after he was done with you, but eventually, he’d return.

he’d return, and he’d cradle you ever so gently in his arms, taking your smaller fingers in his own and clutching them tightly, or cup your face with his hands. and then words and excuses would start pouring out of his mouth.

“oh, princess, i didn’t mean to hurt you, i shouldn’t have.”

“i just can’t help it, it’s just so hard when you misbehave.”

“i want to be good to you, i really do.”

he’d never say the words ‘sorry’, but he did intend it, still.

hoodie

brian is fairly different from the others. his idea of punishment isn’t violent, nor a result of anger.

to him, it’s done out of necessity.

during usual circumstances, brian would tend to spoil you. surprising you with cute presents, buying you nice clothes, allowing you comfortable bedding and luxurious shower products, the list goes on.

since he treated you so well usually, he wouldn’t need to hurt you initially. instead, he’d first revoke all the privileges that he had so graciously allowed you.

you’d go from strawberry cake and fine wine, to water with a piece of stale bread. from nice, long, hot showers, to a five minute limit and a bar of soap. from chocolates and roses to well, nothing at all.

it was truly a shame. after all, brian wants to spoil you, he enjoys treating you well, he does his best for you to be happy and feel loved. but sometimes you don’t always get to do what you want, and he realizes that. sometimes he’d have to enforce punishments on you, and even though he loved you, he would have to hide it temporarily behind a mask of apathy, the once warm energy he’d give off disappearing.

and it’s jarring, the change of attitude he’d have, enough to usually scare you into regretting your actions.

but if it doesn’t?

that’s when everything changes.

brian isn’t a sadist, he wouldn’t ‘hurt’ you, so to speak.

instead, he’ll deprive you of your senses. he’ll keep you locked up in your room, with nothing but a bed and a thin, flimsy blanket. you would be free to move around within there, still, but you wouldn’t do anything besides sit in bed.

why? because he’ll rob you of your sight, putting a blindfold on, covering your pretty eyes. he’ll put in earplugs, eliminating any sound from reaching your ears. he’ll switch out your once diverse range of tastes with nothing but bland, vanilla meal replacement drinks. enough to keep you alive and well, but not enough for you to actually feel like you were eating.

and just like that, he would leave you like that for hours, sometimes even days. still, that wasn’t too bad; you could endure that. but if you did, if you persisted and refused to behave still, then he’d see no other option but to keep it up for longer, from days to weeks to even months if you dared to resist.

not that you would, because the both of you knew for a fact that you couldn’t handle it.

brian wasn’t sadistic, no, but he couldn’t deny that he found satisfaction in watching you finally break, watching apologies tumble out of your mouth, pleading for him to forgive you and allow you to go back to normalcy.

ticci toby

patient, violent, sadistic, unpredictable. toby embodies every quality of someone you wouldn’t want to anger.

toby was already keen on hurting you even if you hadn’t done anything wrong. he wouldn’t do it though, he figured it’d lose effectiveness if he just tormented you for no reason at all. so then instead, he’d wait. he’d patiently wait like a vulture ready to devour its prey, patiently wait for you to mess up, make a mistake.

as soon as you did, you’d instantly regret it, and if not, he’d make sure to change that.

toby was volatile, and he enjoyed switching things up, so that you would never know what to expect as punishments. and therefore, you would be unable to prepare for it, either mentally or physically. not that any amount of preparation could really help with what was to come next.

there are times where he’s feeling relatively nice, and he’d be happy just to tie you up, chain you to the wall until you couldn’t feel your extremities anymore, and your body would go numb, falling asleep. however, he isn’t usually feeling too kind, and more often than not, on top of just restricting your movement, he would take away your basic needs, refusing to feed you, give you water, or even allow you to shower and bathe yourself. but none of that was as enjoyable to him as it was to injure you, striking you across the face, pulling your hair, beating you purple and blue.

it would always be random, though, or at least that’s what he’d want you to think. how bad your punishment was depended on multiple things—his mood, your reactions, the colour of the sky that day. really, you never knew.

he was cruel, it was more often than not when you thought that you had gotten away with it or that your punishment was finally over, that he’d do the worst to you. which also happened to be the most delightful to him.

there was nothing that toby loved more than breaking bones. everything about it was euphoric for him, from the sickening crunch of the joint to the screams that would escape your lips, and the way your pretty face twisted in absolute agony, it was nothing but pure bliss.

his favourite? the fingers.

he’d take his time, snapping each one of them so torturously slow all while cupping your tear-soaked cheek with his other hand oh so gently, oh so lovingly, whispering sickly sweet words into your ear.

“oh, doll, this is for your own good.”

“if only you just behaved…”

“you know i’m only doing this because i love you, right?”

toby also enjoyed psychologically tormenting you, when he’s not telling you things like how all you needed was to be a good girl for him and he wouldn’t have to hurt you again, he’s hissing threats through his teeth, speaking of all the abhorrent things he’ll do to you if you repeated the same mistakes. ranging from cutting out your tongue so that you’d never be able to talk back to him again, to sawing off your legs so that you wouldn’t even be able to dream of escaping, to lending you to masky and hoodie and letting them have their fun with you.

the last one, though, was the only thing he said that was an empty threat, not that you would ever know.

still, though, if there was one thing for certain, it was that you were his and his alone.

jeff the killer

unlike most of the others, jeff doesn’t do punishment for the sake of remodelling your behaviour. while that was a pleasant side effect, he mainly does it because you misbehaving would anger him.

don’t get me wrong��jeff does like his darling fiesty. he likes it when his darling puts up a fight, trying to struggle or escape from him, and even more so if she retaliates. he finds their efforts to be thoroughly entertaining, even cute, the way one would watching a baby animal try to bite, but only able to gently nibble on your finger. after all, jeff knows he’s stronger, more powerful than you. any fight you put up being merely child’s play to him.

so in that regards you’d be lucky to be with jeff, seeing as he wouldn’t be upset and punish you for what many of the others would.

however, that didn’t mean you could get away with anything, because there was one thing that upset jeff more than anything else.

rejection.

for a psychopathic serial killer, jeff is surprisingly sensitive. it’s probably because of the trauma he suffered through, but he doesn’t take rejection well at all.

so if his darling acts cold towards him, in ways such as refusing to speak to him, or look at him even, that would anger him greatly.

and jeff isn’t good at dealing with his emotions. he’s almost like a teenage boy in those regards, rather than an adult. he’s immature and temperamental and explosive. and usually, he tries to run away from his feelings, hiding them behind a cold, hard wall of apathy. but then there’s you, and you made him feel more than he could handle.

so, he’d snap.

he’d be quick to lose his temper, and slap you across the face, or pick you up by the collar and slam you into the wall behind you. he usually wasn’t too heavy on the physical abuse, instead he preferred to take out his favourite weapon, the knife, and hold it up to your throat. he preferred to drag it along your jawline, trace it alongside your cheeks, all the while telling you how pretty you would be with a smile just like him.

he liked that he could scare you, and he loved your petrified expression, your pretty eyes widening in horror and your bottom lip quivering as you pleaded for him to stop, as you desperately apologized, saying sorry for your behaviour.

he never felt too good for it afterwards, though. when the initial pleasure of seeing the tears running down your face and your frail frame trembling in fear wore off, he’d be left feeling surprisingly guilty for what he had done.

but jeff wasn’t good with feeling guilt, either. he’d try to ignore the feeling, but you could still tell in the way that he acted that he felt sorry.

he’d be quiet, surprisingly quiet for the next while, and far less aggressive or touchy as usual. he’d mostly leave you alone to do your own things, and he’d only return to normal once he felt like you had recovered from what he had done.

that was the only way he knows how to express that he’s sorry, but it’s not like you could really ask for more.

ben drowned

as far as violence goes, ben isn’t too bad. he’s not the type to easily get angered or upset, but if you did frustrate him, he won’t exactly be too understanding either. still, he’s not the type to carelessly dish out punishments; he has a sadistic edge to him but prefers to play around rather than do any actual damage.

but if you insisted on testing his patience, you’ll quickly find yourself strapped to a table, tied down with whatever cables that he could find, with a cloth over your face.

that’s right—ben’s favourite form of punishment was waterboarding.

not something that would surprise you, though. it’s quite fitting of him, if anything.

pouring the water over the cloth, and knowing that you were experiencing the horrible suffering that he had once gone through, it was satisfying for him. but what he liked more, was removing the cloth, asking you if you wanted this to be over with, and watching you furiously nod your head yes, tears dribbling down your cheeks and merging with the water that was already splashed over your face. oh, nothing satisfied him more than when you apologized, begging for him to stop the torture.

but if you were still adamant on misbehaving even after the waterboarding, then he’d switch tactics.

perhaps he could just continue the waterboarding for longer, but he didn’t think it would be that effective, nor did he want to risk actually injuring you somehow. although the biggest reason would just be that he didn’t have the heart to prolong the torment, because while there was some satisfaction in it for him, it wasn’t enough to justify how much pain he was putting you through.

and so, he’d turn to isolation. he’ll keep you tied up, then throw you into a closet or some other small space, leave you in the dark with nothing to do or anything to ease your mind with.

he’ll also threaten to forget to bring you water, or feed you, but the most he’ll do is deprive you of it for a day or two, just enough to scare you.

he wouldn’t want to do it, but if that wasn’t enough, then he’ll keep you isolated, keep you tied up. he won’t speak a word to you, the most interaction you’ll ever have is just him putting pieces of bread in your mouth, and letting you sip from a water bottle. your body would be sore and cramping, and your mind would eventually fall to loneliness and boredom.

he’d keep you there for as long as he needed to, but it would be both a relief to you and to him when you conceded, and he could finally let you out.

slenderman

slender is a gentle soul.

he’s older, more mature. over the years, he’s learned how to control his temper. unlike many of the others, he’s not prone to violent outbursts, nor did he have a penchant for sadism. while he is known to be ruthless, he showed you a different side of himself, a side different from the ones he’d show his proxies or other victims, a side he reserved for you and you only.

and that side he showed you was loving, it truly was. he did everything in his power, which was quite vast and all-encapsulating, to treat you well. to make you happy. to provide you with everything you could ever want.

which was what made it all the more frustrating for him when you decide to act up, to be disobedient, to lash out at him.

because slender could tolerate a lot. even outside of his relationship with you, he was generally quite patient, but his love for you made him tolerant and understanding on top of it, too.

he understood, he really did—he had known from the beginning, even before taking you that this wouldn’t be easy on you. that this would be difficult for you, that it would take a lot of adjusting to and getting used to. so he really did take it easy on you, he tried to provide you with as much care as possible without suffocating you; he knew you were still confused, still uncomfortable, still afraid.

but there was still a line. there was still a line that you shouldn’t cross, and if you had crossed it, if you had the audacity to overstep despite all his efforts to keep you comfortable and safe—

then he’ll have no choice but to react accordingly.

and then all of a sudden he’s no longer kind and compassionate, no longer warm and loving. he’s cold and ruthless and the special treatment you once received from him was over, the side he reserved for you was gone.

he’d be an entirely different person to you.

and you’d be no different from one of his typical victims; your head is throbbing, static is ringing in your ears, clouding your vision. you’re bent over coughing your lungs out, blood dripping from your nose.

he’d pray that this would be enough. that this was the extent he’d have to go to for you to understand not to do it again.

but if you still chose to repeat your behaviour?

then you’d start forgetting.

it’d be mere minutes at first. then later hours, and eventually days. just like that, entire chunks of time, entire events would be missing from your mind. although slender did keep the limit to a week, any more than that and he’d be afraid that he’d permanently scar you. but he would make sure you were aware still of just what the consequences of your actions entailed. he’d allow you access to a calendar, or even just subtly hint at the time that’s passed, the time that you don’t remember at all.

and it’d scare you, just like it was meant to do. the fear of the unknown was a primal, powerful fear, and god knows what you had done, or worse—what he had done to you during those times that you no longer remembered.

the fear of the unknown was a primal, powerful fear, one that would keep you from ever repeating the same mistakes again.

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joukaiweek · 4 months

Text

JouKai Week 2024

January 19, 2024 - January 25, 2024

💜 Prompts

1/19 - star || dragon 1/20 - stranded || shadow 1/21 - alien || charm 1/22 - gravity || flight 1/23 - repair || transform 1/24 - journey || chosen 1/25 - free day (aka Jounouchi’s birthday! 🎉)

This round of prompts was inspired by common tropes and motifs found in sci-fi and fantasy stories. That doesn't mean you're limited to only creating works in those genres though! Each prompt can be interpreted in any number of ways, so let your imagination run wild.

If you're looking for inspiration and suggestions to get your creative juices flowing, check below the cut for some example interpretations of each prompt.

💙 Day 1

star nova • wish upon a star • movie star

dragon dragon rider • pet dragon • slay the dragon

❤️ Day 2

stranded crash-landed • shipwrecked • "no man is an island"

shadow shadow magic • dark side of the moon • the shadow self

💙 Day 3

alien alien races • foreign lands • alienation

charm good-luck charm • put a spell on you • charm their pants off

❤️ Day 4

gravity black hole • trapped • the immense gravity of the situation

flight escape from peril • flight of fancy • skydiving

💙 Day 5

repair mechanic • break up then make up • home renovation

transform alchemy • mutation • makeover

❤️ Day 6

journey interdimensional/time travel • hero's journey • going home

chosen the Chosen One • lottery • "I'll always choose you"

💙 Day 7

free day 2023 prompts • 2022 prompts • Jounouchi's birthday

💜 About

❤️ When does this event take place?

JouKai Week for 2024 will run between Friday, January 19th and Thursday, January 25th, 2024.

💙 How does this work?

This event is open to anyone who's a fan of Kaiba and Joey.

A pair of prompts is provided every day. Feel free to pick and choose, or combine both prompts in your fanworks. You can make as many pieces as you want for any given day. Feel free to participate every day, or just on the days where you feel like it.

You can start working on your fills as soon as prompts are posted, but please do not post your finished works before the event starts.

❤️ What can I make?

Create whatever you're inspired to—fanart, traditional long-form fanfiction, poetry, crafts, mood boards, ship playlists, or headcanon posts.

The only stipulation is your work should primarily focus on Jounouchi and Kaiba. Otherwise, there are no restrictions on length or rating. Please keep in mind that it is common courtesy to provide ratings, warnings, and put NSFW or excessively long works under a "Read More" cut.

Go wild and have fun.

💙 Where should I post my work?

Wherever you want! While this event is run on tumblr, you're free to share your creations on tumblr, FF.net, AO3, twitter, etc. Mod will also reblog and share works that are tagged with @joukaiweek or #joukaiweek2024. Mod recommends doing both so your work doesn't get lost. Mod reserves the right to not reblog anything that does not fit the spirit of the event or is not properly rated/warned. Mod also requests you not share your finished creation until the day of the prompt.

❤️ I have another question not addressed here.

Send an ask, and Mod will get back to you ASAP.

#yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #kaijou #joukai #ygo #yugioh dm #ship week #fandom event #Jounouchi Katsuya #Kaiba Seto #Joey Wheeler #Seto Kaiba #joukaiweek2024 #event info

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 8 months

Text

With the last breath

Word count: 1577

Warnings: depression, suicide attempt

Part II

At first, I'm sorry for my English. It isn't my native language, so there are mistakes and maybe it wouldn't give sense. Writing this was a real challenge and it showed me my (language) limits😅

For the first actual fanfiction I post here I'd say it's quite dark. I wrote it after fight with husband as kind of distraction. Well, it served its purpose.

Declaration: I write just for fun✌️

One day you were on a way to deliver some documents to Rhysand. He sent a request to the library to look for certain information he urgently needed and when everything he asked for was collected, Clotho asked you to deliver it to him. As the only person who from time to time didn't mind to go out, you had a good relationship him and knew all of the members of the inner circle. You often worked with them and helped them as you knew the library so well as the back of your hand.

Entering the River House you headed to his office. Clotho had sent him a notice of your visit early in the morning, so you knew where to look for him. As you approached the office door you could hear his voice and the voices of two other males. He was there together with his brothers standing around the table with maps and papers on it and discussing something important. You didn't want to disturb them, so you silently walked through the open door and set the documents on a small table right next to the door. Spymaster's eyes met yours for a second as he was the only one facing the door and he noticed the movement. Finding out it's you, as usually, he lost interest and returned to whatever they were looking at together. Rhys noticed his eyes went up and he also turned to you with a big, kind smile.

„Is that the information I asked for?“

„Yeah, it should be all. I checked it several times to make sure,“ you whispered silently, but he heard you.

„Would you mind to stay for lunch since you've come this far? It would be just three of us, Feyre and Elain,“ Rhys invited you.

Your eyes hastily darted to Azriel. His jaw slightly tightened, but you didn't miss that small move. „I'm afraid I need to return back..“ you tried to smile little.

„Are you already going back? Don't you need escort?“ Cassian turned to you too, offering help.

He and Rhys were kind to you and seemed to be happy to see you whenever you met them. Rhys always asked you to join a meal with his family and sometimes you'd accept it. On the other hand, Spymaster has never bothered to treat you with more than a short look or few casual phrases at the best. Even though he didn't seem to be really fond of you, he tended to sit next to you on a sofa or hold a seat for you next to him at the table. But it was a long time ago. Maybe he noticed you eyeing him with interest and that was the reason his behaviour changed over the years from 'I can tolerate you' to 'such a nuisance'. He personally didn't do nor say anything bad to you. But you could feel it from him somehow. You hadn't much of magic in your blood, but you was able to read any subtle signs and understand how people around you feel. That's the reason you stopped accepting invitations and tried to cross his path as little as possible. In the moments like this it was impossible to avoid meeting him and he seemed to be fine with it, paying you minimum attention. But as soon as somebody asked you to join them for a meal or evening, you could feel a slight discomfort from him. You tried to brush it away, but still it hurt.

When you met him for the first time you were afraid of him. As you got to know inner circle better, you learnt there's actually nothing scary about him and that deep down he is a very kind person. His silent, calm and caring nature appealed to you and before you noticed you fell in love with him. You couldn't help it even though you knew you don't have any chance. Masking it as best as you could, you decided to suffer in silence. You knew about his feeling toward Mor and when Archeron sisters entered your lives you noticed his shift of interest to Elain too. You weren't ugly, but there was no way you could compete with such beauties as the two of them. And you were well aware of that. That's why you've never tried to approach him and talk to him properly and after feeling a kind of discomfort from him in your presence, you tried to keep your distance and avoid him.

You excused yourself as fast as you could and turned around to leave. When you were sure that Rhys and Cass turned back to the table, you allowed yourself a single glance to him over your shoulder. His features were relaxed. He was so painfully beautiful that tears welled up in your eyes and the painful hole in your chest got little bigger.

After meeting him you needed some time to calm down and bury those feelings back so deep that nobody could notice them. You were walking around the city till you were sure you regained your peace. And just then you decided to head back to the library.

When you were climbing up the stairs you heard some muffled voices. You've never spied on other people, but this time you couldn't resist it and peaked to the hall to see who could it be. And there you saw them. Azriel stood with his back against the wall, Elain standing on her tiptoes with arms around his neck leaning into him. They started to kiss, slowly at first, but soon enough their passion took over. You couldn't stand it. Tears stinging your eyes once again, you left as silently as possible. When you were far from them and they couldn't hear you anymore, you run to your room as fast as you could. Closing the door you slid down to the ground unable to stifle your sobs. Knowing he has a thing for somebody else wasn't as painful as to actually see them together. It utterly broke your heart leaving you unable to breathe properly. Your life was pretty simple, you didn't have much. Your love for that male and a little faith you held were basically all you had left and the scene you witnessed totally crushed it all.

It took you hours until you calmed down enough to be able to stand up. You opened the door. You didn't know where to go, but you couldn't stand to be here anymore. Your legs took over the control, marching on their own. Suddenly you found yourself on one of the balconies heavily leaning on the railing. You slightly leaned over the edge looking down. The balcony was so high it made you nauseous. You pulled back to the safety. Spending most of the time in the library you've never gave much thoughts to heights at which you lived. You just occasionally had chance to stop and look out the window. Carefully you sat up on the railing back facing outwards. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down, to get through the pain and the shock. You tilted your head back watching floating clouds. As child you spent hours lying in the grass and watching clouds. It used to be so relaxing, but now you felt nothing, except emptiness. There was a bird flying high above you. You sighed. How beautiful it would be if you could fly. You'd took off flying far from this place, far from these people, far from him. What it must be like to feel so free and weightless. If you lean back little more, you could find out. It would be so nice to fly down, to never have to feel anything anymore. You knew you should be scared to even think about such things, but instead you felt numb.

The bird was getting bigger as it flew closer. You closed eyes and leaned back more and more. Suddenly you felt so light, flying like that bird. Small smile formed on your lips and you stretched out arms like wings.

Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind when he noticed somebody leaning dangerously on the edge of railing on one of the highest balconies. It was strange, but he was tired so at first he didn't pay much attention to it. He looked away just for a moment and the person disappeared. His throat tightened. He immediately plunged headlong down, but he wasn't fast enough. The person was only few meters away from a certain death. He had to winnow. Stepping into shadows he reappeared few foots bellow the person stretching out arms to catch... HER! There was no doubt. It was Y/N. What happened? Why would she do something so horrible? What if he tries to catch her, but she slips through his hands and dies? He'd never been so scared in his entire life. If something were to happen to her, he'd never forgive himself. All sounds of the world disappeared, he could hear only own heart racing in his chest. It took just mere seconds, but it seemed to take forever. The moment her body collided with his, the time had stopped. He squeezed his eyes, muscles tensing, wings spreading to stop their fall.

When he finally dared to open his eyes, there she was safe in his arms, pressed to his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief.

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

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