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neoflect · 2 days

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sharing some of my disorganized jojo musical thoughts now that ive had a week to sit on it and ive rewatched it several times over. i intended to wait to publish something like this until a subtitled version was available, but im not seeing any indication that thats happening any time soon so for now youll have to deal with my loose interpretations from my extremely rudimentary and rusty japanese… so take what i have to say about the finer points of characterization with a grain of salt. gratuitous spoilers below obviously, both for the original source material and the changes made in the stage production

my feelings are OVERWHELMINGLY positive. of course there are things i can criticize or that i would have personally done differently but oh man… i have literally not thought about anything besides this fucking show for a week. im 100% confident in saying this is a better adaptation of the source material than the tv anime. sorry to the davidpro staff, i respect their hard work and their love for jojo and their dedication to what is by any metric a pretty difficult property to adapt off of the page, but i dont know if i can ever forgive them for leaving half of the first episode’s storyboard on the cutting room floor in order to fit a standard half-hour tv slot, especially considering that what they cut is some of the really crucial character-building stuff. happily those scenes are not only reproduced in the stage version, some of them are expanded upon!

with the quick disclaimer that i’ve only managed to get my hands on the final 4/14 performance with shotaro arisawa and yoshihisa higashiyama, from what i’ve seen the casting is perfect. i’m sure there’s a rip of the 4/13 performance somewhere (i’ve seen clips) but i haven’t been able to find one… every single performer knocks it out of the fucking park, the cast chemistry is incredible and even the minor characters are loaded with charisma. and mamoru miyano… my god… mamoru miyano i owe you an apology. i was not familiar with your game. of course hes been killing it for decades at this point but i had soured on him a little bit recently because i felt like he was overcast in everything and i just didnt connect with his dnt reinhard at all, so when the casting was initially announced back in august i was underwhelmed, and of course my standards for the dio role in particular were astronomically high… i’ll go more into detail later in the post because i have so so many things to say about dio’s characterization here but mamoru miyano’s performance is like, life-changing. i had impossible expectations and he exceeded them.

sorry if im gushing. i am a hater by nature. its unusual for me to be so thoroughly pleased with something. im not even a musical theater guy. these are strange new feelings for me.

just to balance things out i’ll talk about a couple of the things that didn’t really work for me: first of all, the music is just ok. my initial draft of this post called the music “bad” but three additional viewings later i have warmed up to some of the songs. i don’t know if this is a shortcoming by dove attia as the composer or if it’s just me, as i said i’m not a musical guy and a lot of the genre conventions of musical theatre are not really the things i look for in music that i enjoy, but like… even at their worst they are serviceable. nothing here is sonically unpleasant to me. high points are “resolve of the ripple” (zeppeli’s hamon training song, a jazzy swing number - it’s simply catchy and fun to listen to) and the closer “phantom blood” (a sweeping ballad that reprises the earlier “light and darkness”/”golden spirit” leitmotifs into an epic duet between jonathan and dio as they join hands and walk off into the darkness together… made me cry! i wont lie! on every single one of my numerous viewings this one got me misty eyed!)

wait i forgot this is supposed to be the part where i’m being critical. ok my most loathed song in the musical is “dio’s world”. sorry dio nation. it doesn’t really work for me. i think this might be a case of my standards/expectations being too impossibly high because it’s not even really the worst song in the whole thing. and of course miyano eats it up so it’s not really his fault. i just find it kind of underwhelming… i find the melody a little grating, it’s kind of just a generic rock number, it’s just missing a particular je ne sais quoi…. the essence of dio isn’t there… lyrically though i am obsessed with the premise of dio recruiting his minions by selling himself as a kind of social revolutionary who is upending and inverting the brutal hierarchy of post-industrial victorian society with zombie blood magic. you win some you lose some.

the second sticking point for me is the costumes. they’re perfectly serviceable… adequate… but i mean when it comes to jojo “serviceable” and “adequate” costume design obviously falls well below what’s expected, right? a lot of the outfits have kind of a boxy, almost flat-looking kind of unflattering fit on the actors, which if i wanted to be generous i could attribute to the challenge of bridging the gap between these frail slender musical theater twinks and the two-meter-tall 250lb roided-out beefcakes theyre meant to be embodying. (bearing this discrepancy in mind a lot of the insane martial arts stuff in the second act doesn’t really land with the oomph that it should, but i also understand logistically why this kind of casting is not practical, and all things considered i think shotaro arisawa does a really incredible job of embodying jonathan joestar even though he kind of looks like i could snap him in half over my knee like a twig. he’s very cute. so i’m not mad about it.) of course, again, logistically, i understand that in a stage musical production, where actors only have minutes to complete costume changes, some sacrifices have to be made to the creative vision in the name of practicality. nevertheless this is jojos bizarre adventure!! i want to see some fucking baubles!!!!!!

which is all to say that… after carefully considering it for some weeks… i still have extremely mixed feelings about dio’s grink ass feather bathrobe look. it’s not that i dont think its something he could wear (the concept of dio lounging around in his gothic vampire palace doing re-animator style body horror experiments on the local wildlife in this “officer i have no idea what happened to my husband”-ass nightgown is nothing short of hysterical to me) but then he wears it into combat and i felt a little disappointed… it has the same unflattering fit issue as the other outfits in the show, and it is just such an un-araki-like design… where are the gaudy color combinations? the bizarre geometric patterns? the tease of an exposed boob/thigh/midriff? erina gets a stage-original dress design that i have fewer issues with because the excessive pleats and ruffles have more of an araki-esque sensibility, but every time i look at dio’s robe it feels like there’s something missing. i’m going to choose to be nice about it because it’s not at all a deal breaker and, again, mamoru miyano devours the look. it’s fine. it’s always fun to have a new dio outfit. if anything, the fact that the blu-rays are being marketed as “2024 cast version” gives me hope for the possibility of a future production with a new vision for the costume design. (although the fact that this was such a difficult production - with stunts and pyrotechnics and moving setpieces - that its entire first week was cancelled indicates to me that the prospects for a future production from a different company are impossibly slim. i guess there’s always hope?)

in terms of the writing and the changes that were made from the original narrative, honestly i don’t really have an issue with anything that was cut. sorry if there are any diehard stans of Poco’s Unnamed Sister out there who are steamed that their favorite minor late phantom blood character got the axe, i kind of understand how you feel because i’ve been malding over david pro cutting the Danny Lore for eleven years, but i think it was the right choice and the story flows so much better. the real juicy meat at the core of phantom blood as a narrative and the thing that brings it head and shoulders above so much of the rest of jjba is the character-driven drama - that deliciously pulpy victorian gothic family tragedy - and the relationship between jonathan and dio. the musical beefs up the character drama and slims down the action-driven second half by trimming out the extraneous battles. the only real downside i see to this is that the absence of tompetty and his prophecy makes zeppeli’s arc and death feel INSANELY abrupt, but tbf that’s not a deal breaker for me. sorry zeppeli. you were born to die.

okay. okay. i think 1500 words into the post is enough fucking around so let’s talk about the real reason why you and i both know we’re here

musical dio is SO fucking sad. he’s positively wretched, you guys. he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and forced to eat cement when he was six. he cries even more than he does in the source material and even when he’s not crying he frequently delivers his lines as though he is moments away from bursting into tears. back when the musical first opened i was snooping on the reactions on jpn twitter and one commenter said they could see miyano’s tears and snot from the nosebleeds even without opera glasses, a remark i initially assumed was hyperbole but that i now think probably was not. araki’s dio is certainly tortured and a deeply pathetic crybaby beneath all the cruelty and posturing, but changes in the musical and miyano’s embodiment of the character bring this pathos to the fore. he is literally haunted: dario’s ghost lingers, a manifestation of all of dio’s traumas and insecurities that emerges from the recesses of his memory to taunt him with the reminder that he will always be his father’s son, all the way up until the very minute that jonathan breaks down the door to his vampire lair. i am OBSESSED with this - not only for the obvious reason that i delight in dio’s suffering personally but also because kong kuwata is a delight and he fucking kills it every time. also lends itself to a category 10 leitmotif moment at the top of the second act when dio emerges from the charred ruins of the joestar estate singing dario’s theme and calling out to jonathan - if i had to pinpoint this is probably the moment when this musical stuck for me as the Real Deal. they Get It.

the first solo number in the show is dio’s disney princess I Want song (amazingly, simply titled “dio”) where he weeps for his late mother and his wretched lot in life, and then - in a creative decision that made me clap my hands and hoot and holler at my screen in real life - there is a reprise of this number (delivered, naturally, through tears) when dio is almost arrested for murder and decides to become a vampire instead. so there’s this amazing hopeful uplifting inspirational orchestral music accompanying the onstage action of dio ruthlessly slaying jonathan’s dad and then getting pumped full of lead by a bunch of cops. it is brilliant. 10/10 no notes. it’s moments like this that i think really sell the “softening” of dio in the stage version for me, even though i am historically Not A Fan of fanworks that take a similar angle - like, yes, he is sad, but specifically he is narcissistically obsessed with the spectacle of his own suffering, he is boiling over with bitterness and rage for everyone around him who (by his own estimation) could never hope to have suffered as much as he has. this sensitivity and self-pity he wallows in are not expressions of a guilty conscience or a desire to change - they’re entirely the opposite - every cruel and monstrous deed dio commits is always justified to himself because he is simply the saddest little boy who has ever existed. he has been done wrong by the world and so there is no limit to the depravity he may reasonably respond with. i’ve seen several commenters describe this as a drastically different interpretation of the character from araki’s dio (and someone told me on twitter that mamoru miyano himself has also said this, but i cba to go digging for an actual source so take it with a grain of salt?), but i… dont think thats the case! dio’s obsession with his own weakness and his self-perception as the eternal underdog (as compared to jonathan) are certainly more exaggerated in miyano’s performance, but i don’t think this is an angle to the character that’s been manufactured out of whole cloth. the genre conventions of the stage musical force the melodrama up to eleven and dio’s incredibly repressed angst is the most rich vein to mine for that. hair-trigger sadist dio is still here, it’s the same guy, he’s still killing people mercilessly, you’re just getting to see him sing a big ballad about his feelings instead of confining those to an internal monologue.

if anything, the exaggeration of dio’s pathetic/cowardly/crybaby traits combined with his megalomaniacal aspirations and bottomless well of cruelty is just right. it’s perfect. fucking around, finding out, and then trying to weasel his way out of the consequences with crocodile tears just so you don’t see him drawing his knife to cut you clean open… yeah. thats the stuff. thats my one true blorbo. sad to say i will love him for ten thousand years.

i think that might be all i have to say… or at least all i feel like saying here… most likely ill come back and edit this post later. i certainly have some additional thoughts and some more esoteric/controversial takes but they’re not suited for a public blog. real ones will understand. im keeping my eyes peeled for somebody to translate this thing but to be frank i am kind of enjoying this little corner of fandom as it is right now: just the asians and the true hardcore phantom blood phreaks. i have not had this much fun in jojo fandom in almost a fucking decade. as soon as somebody publishes an english version my timelines going to get flooded with all the most deeply annoying “kono dio da” “speedwagon waifu” reddit guys and 15 year olds and my suffering will proceed. unfortunately this is my lot in life and i am doomed to be here forever because dio put a worm in my brain

#⚰️#jjba tag for blacklisting purposes but i dont want this in the main tag

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 hours

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Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡

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Two lovely people asked for my NSFW Simon headcannons and I'm happy to provide!!

Just a disclaimer, these are my headcannons. If you have ones that are totally different, that's okay!

He's fictional and can be whatever you want him to be <3 (except a rapist. We don't do that here.)

If you have any COD thoughts or requests, my inbox is open!!

~ Fi 🐝

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I'm a soft!Simon truther until death.

There's not a single reality in which I can see him ever being too rough with you, let alone hurting you.

First of all, he has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's maybe had sex 2-3 times in his life and I don't think any of them were memorable or good.

I'd wager that all of them were hookups, encouraged by other soldiers to "let off steam". But Simon just can't do it, it feels so wrong. To give himself so fully to someone he doesn't even know.

There needs to be an emotional connection in order for him to feel comfortable and good. He needs to trust and love this person before he can do anything with them.

It's gonna take a while for him to open up, but once he does everything is smooth sailing.

(I also don't think he masturbated excessively. He probably jerked off, everyone gets horny, but especially if we say he's on antidepressants, his sex drive is pretty low. He's either too tired or just doesn't care)

Your first time together was fueled by a, not so uncommon, make-out session on his couch. It'd usually end with you grinding on his thigh or rubbing yourself over his clothed cock until you both reached a satisfactory end.

Simon thinks he could live an entire relationship with only sticking to dry humping, but in reality he's just terrified of the intimacy of real sex.

It's not too romantic, none of that rose petals lit candle stuff. It's not that Simon hates all of that, but I just think it'd be too much for the first time.

He's already so nervous (so are you probably if we're honest) and all that extra stuff would overwhelm the fuck out of him.

(He will spoil you with rose petals and candles another night, even if it just ends you with you falling asleep in eachother's arms <3)

Eventhough it's soft and sweet, you're both still very horny and basically rip the clothes off of the other.

Foreplay is important!!! (For all my girlies who don't drip down their thighs)

Not only for you but for him too. Even if he's rock hard already, he wants to enjoy himself, maybe be a tease. He will always make sure that you're okay and ready (and so will you bc he deserves it).

Would literally eat you out to calm himself down. He probably has fallen asleep while licking your pussy, it's his personal meditation.

Your taste, the way you feel on his tongue and the fact that he was two perfectly good pillows wrapped around his head made it easy for him to nod off.

Also, he prefers it hairy. (Fight me.) (pls don't)

I know it's cliche but he's like 2 seconds away from just coming inside of you the second he pushes in. Not only does he feel good but when he looks down he sees you and he could cry from how happy he is. He just loves you so much.

Can we please put the "You only take half of him" bullshit to rest??? Thank you. We all know Simon as BDE but let's keep it on the real side okay. He couldn't give less of a shit if you can take him to the hilt or not.

(Some gals physically can't bc if your vaginal canal is too short, then it's impossible. You don't want a bruised cervix, so don't be stupid) I do think when he's more comfortable about it and a little more desperate and rough, he'll play into the size kink.

He probably has a huge size kink anyway but he would never make you feel bad if you couldn't take all of him. (Especially if you're giving him head bc let's be real that thing is not going down no one's throat okay)

He has the prettiest moans. I JUST KNOW IT. they're more throaty and deep but they sound good. I honestly don't think this man is capable of whimpering (like physically. Not with that smoker lung) sorry babes.

Simon isn't too loud, but just enough to make you that much hotter. He will try to pull more moans out of you, like a little challenge for himself.

NONE OF THAT "10 rounds Riley" SHIT. (Have any of y'all ever had an orgasm before like?? Who the fuck is going ten rounds??? Not me that's for sure lmao) it really all depends on your guys' mood and neediness on that day.

I do think he can and wants to go a couple of rounds but it's probably more on the rare side and never more than 4.

He knocks out immediately. He's always tired anyways.

I think his favorite positions are missionary, prone bone, and cow girl. He likes the closeness, wants to feel every part of you and kiss it like his life depends on it.

The further you are into your relationship, the more new stuff you can try out. He's always gonna be hesitant at first but if it's not too out there he'll try it.

Simon will tell you if something is a hard no for him and he expects you to respect, just as he would for you.

Would 100% make you ride his face. Wants to he smothered in it okay. (Simon said sit, so sit.)

Simon would be down to tying you up (one condition; you're never tied to anything. In case of emergencies)

You won't get him to be tied up though, that's a real hard no.

I think the closest you'd get to a submissive Simon is if you order him around.

He's sitting on his knees before you and you tell him exactly what you want him to do (one thing Simon Riley can do is follow orders) and he'll pretend to let you be in control and maybe you are for a while, but deep down he's always in control (not necessarily sexual or possessively, he just needs the security)

He loves to get head (not as much as giving it tho) but he will never ever force his cock down your throat, even if you begged him.

He can't do it, won't do it. Has he had the urge and fantasies?? Sure, but it goes against everything he promised when you got into a relationship.

Sweetly suck on his tip and stroke the rest of his length and he's happy as a clam <3

His absolutely favorite thing is when you ride him in the morning. Just lazy and sloppy circles of your hips while you sit on top of him. He loves the sight.

Simon'll gently hold onto your hips and guide you if need be. It's even better if you're laying flush against his chest and the both of you are snuggled under the blanket.

Bonus; he loves to make-out with you. It's an unhealthy obsession that has led to too much lipgloss/lipstick ingested just bc the fucker couldn't wait 2 minutes for you to take it off.

Kissing you is his number 1 way to show you how much he loves you since words aren't his strong suit.

Needless to say, he's head over heels for you, and the sex is great. <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you lovelies enjoyed it!

More of my works --> 💫

#bumblebeesfromvenus #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

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yioh · 1 year

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these make me think about kaeya and diluc honestly it’s so heartbreaking 🥲🥲

#also made me think abt me and my brother i may have cried HA #anyways back to dilu and kae #it’s so bittersweet knowing how they had such a good relationship before things were revealed like they look so so sweet together #the kind of brothers who do EVERYTHING together and are equals in every way and u just can’t have one without the other #i wonder how diluc feels as the older brother who broke his younger brothers heart #that last quote talking abt the responsibility of an elder sibling.. i wonder if it breaks his heart that he couldn’t exist in that way for #kaeya for the longest time #also the way their outward personalities kinda switched around #i think they maybe wanted to keep a piece of eachother within themselves #there really is no person out there that could replace what a sibling is #how strange of a connection filled with comfort animosity annoyance love and safety #like your other half ??? someone who is linked to you but is so uniquely another person #someone who shows you another perspective of the world #i wonder how kaeya felt after he no longer could savour the safety net his older brother provided him #feeling so bare against the thorns of the world now that his brother isn’t there to hold him in his arms #how identityless he must feel to have someone who was there since the start to be ripped away

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moenmomentsthemoe-en · 1 month

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so sane. and normal.

tw // existentialism , derealisation , suicide ment , bright colours (?) for the drawing under the cut

(please dont read the text below too if youre not in a good state of mind)

#vent art #derealisation #ive been told how this story ends and im still naively hoping for a better one like the fool i am #sorry . god sorry i know i should be normal and better than this #thank you ghost and judas and em for grounding me through this insanity with the convos im #ripping my hair out . im going to get coffee so i can properly think about this and then promptly ignore it #more derealisation in tags #more vents ahead cause i cant fucking. fuck. if i dont present this somewhere itll be forgotten and wiped off by force #if theres the chance that one person sees this or that its etched into the internet - then theres no point in forcing to erase it off so i #get to keep this process #okay more vent ->#okay im 19. nothing much has addressed It. so that means i should live my life as I have #ignoring It completely right?#if It was a crucial part of my life; surely something about It would be mentioned by now. surely.#so it doesn't matter if It stares at me for every waking moment. it doesn matter if It plays a crucial role in what I am and how I exist #it doesnt matter if once It is ripped away #so will my existence #It doesn't matter that its Incomprehensible yet I am forced to comprehend it in every waking moment #it doesn't matter that It is extremely tied into my existence. it doesn't matter that if It is gone - i will be too - and it doesn't matter #that its logical to assume that #its logic and it makes no sense #none of this makes any sense #but im 19 now. nothing has associated itself to It. nothig resembles It.#i should ignore it #me when the incomprehensible horror makes me go insane if i dont acknowledge or process it at least once a week I Am Doomed As A Human Bein #i will never be able to feel connected to living. i will never be able to feel connected to other people #pathetic ass life i need to get better at living actually AUAUUAAAAAAAAAAA

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scrambledslut · 11 months

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how fucking dare you insert yourself into my life and then leave without so much as a goodbye

#did i really mean that little to you?#my last words to you were literally about how much you mean to me and that i would be by your side no matter what #i told you not to shut me out #if you had just told it to me straight we could’ve put this behind us and moved on #as if i didn’t stay up all night just to talk to you a little longer #there’s so much i told you that i’ve never told anyone else and it feels like i’ve been slapped in the face with it #you had my loyalty and even this wouldn’t change it but then you just disappeared #becuase of that i’ll just have to assume you lied about everything else too #i wasn’t lying when i told you that you were my best friend (pathetic i know)#i have never had close friends but you made me feel seen understood and prioritized #i deserve closure and i wish you could’ve given me at least that.#never felt lonelier #knowing what it feels like to connect with a person and then having it ripped away fkn hurts #vent cw

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coffee-bat · 8 months

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i cant fuckign move

#screaming shitting crying etc #personal #cw/ medical #hi did you knowvthat connective tissue disorders make it so your abs will split down the middle sometimes for no reason #bc the tissue between them rips #mine always split in the same spot (under navel) and it hurts so fucking bad genuiely #i have a small adipose hernia there bc of it #it feels simultaneously like pulling a muscle and being stabbed #and you dont realize how much you use your abs until you cant fucking move or even breathe properly bc of one fucking spot in the middle-#-being torn #i cant lift my fuckkng arms #it happens like once every 2 months and i know itll pass but its so fucking annoying #like i didnt do anything to warrant this. i got up and went to pee thats it thats what made my abs fucking tear #and my mom wants me to go walk the dogs but i fucking cant bc i cant stand up straight much less hold a fucking german shepherd on a leash #and mom is annoyed bc it looks like im faking/making excuses bc its not a visible injury but i just genuiely cant fucking do anything-#-until it passes

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babisawyer · 1 year

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very brave of the yellowjackets writers to be like 'hey, what if eating your friend was a bad thing?'

#🐇#yellowjackets #I appreciate it though loved the opening scene love the aftermath of last week #I don't understand nat though like rip jackie you might be what helps us survive the winter #like maybe if you had kept some leftovers but you gobbled her up in one sitting #the whole bird thing happened but I doubt nat will make the connection there like lottie surely will #I'd also imagine now that ben can finally eat because of the birds but he might be passively suicidal like jackie was #and we know how that went. he should've quit his job and had indoor heating someone that loves him and gay sex #I still really hate the adult timeline. I love jeff and lottie's stuff is getting interesting but that's about it #I'm kinda wondering if lottie will start the cannibal rituals now after the hive vision at the end #idk I think I'm traumatized from other shows trying to shock people so I need to make theories #and I think maybe with this show the simplest explanation is the answer so I'm trying not to make theories #even though I think antler queen jackie would be so fun like it's probably just lottie #also needs to be said I dislike misty and showtunes even more now the girls should have probably had them for brunch already #and also I'm like convinced that shauna has a personality disorder like I won't say she didn't have feelings for jackie #but like she wanted to be jackie more than she wanted to be with jackie #there are many other reasons but yeah totally sure of it now #anyway I could probably say more but I have to start packing! so goodbye for now!

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centrally-unplanned · 10 months

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We (somewhat rightly) mock the 2000's era fansub translation notes for their otaku fixations and privileging of trivia over the media, but they should be understood as serving their purpose for a bit of a different era in the anime fandom. Take this classic:

Like, its so obvious, right? Just say "pervert", you don't need the note! Which is true, for like a 'normie' audience member who just wants to watch A TV Show - but no one watching, uh *quick google* "Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne" in 1999 is that person. The audience is weebs, and for them the fact that show is Japanese is a huge selling point. They want it to feel as 'anime' as possible; and in the west language was one of the core signifiers of anime-ness. 2004 con-goers calling their friends "-kun" and throwing in "nani?" into conversations was the way this was done, and alongside that a lexicon of western anime fandom terminology was born. Seeing "ecchi" on the screen is, to this person, a better viewing experience - it enhances their connection to otaku identity the show is providing, and reinforces their shared cultural lexicon (Ecchi is now a term one 'expects' anime fans to know - a truth that translator notes like this simultaneously created and reflected).

But of course your audiences have different levels of otaku-dom, and so you can't just say 'ecchi' and call it a day - so for those who are only Level 2 on their anime journey, you give them a translation note. Most of the translation notes of the era are like this - terms the fansubber thought the audience might know well enough that they would understand it and want that pure Japanese cultural experience, but that not all of them would know, so you have to hedge. The Lucky Star one I posted is a great example of that:

Its Lucky Star, the otaku-crown of anime! You desperately want the core text to preserve as much anime vocab as possible, to give off that feeling, but you can't assume everyone knows what a GALGE is - doing both is the only way to solve that dilemma.

This is often a good guideline when looking at old memetically bad fansubs by the way:

This isn't real, no fansub had this - it was a meme that was posted on a wiki forum in 2007. Which makes sense, right? "Plan" isn't a Japanese cultural or otaku term, so there is no reason not to translate it, it doesn't deepen the ~otaku connection~.

Which, I know, I'm explaining the joke right now, but over time I think many have grown to believe that this (and others like it) is a real fansub, and that these sort of arbitrary untranslations just peppered fansub works of the time? It happened, sure, but they would be equally mocked back then as missteps - or were jokes themselves. Some groups even had a reputation for inserting jokes into their works, imo Commie Subs was most notable for this; part of the competitive & casual environment of the time. But they weren't serious, they are not examples of "bad fansubs" in the same way.

This all faded for a bunch of reasons - primarily that the market for anime expanded dramatically. First, that lead to professionally released translations by centralized agencies that had universal standards for their subs and accountability to the original creators of the show. Second, the far larger audience is far less invested in anime-as-identity; they like it, but its not special the way its special when you are a bullied internet recluse in 2004. They just want to watch the show, and would find "caring" about translation nuances to be cringe. And since these centralized agencies release their product infinitely faster and more accessibly than fansubs ever did, their copies now dominate the space (including being the versions ripped to all illegal streaming sites), so fansubs died.

Though not totally - a lot of those fansub groups are still around! Commie Subs is still kicking for example. They either do the weird nuance stuff, or fansub unreleased-in-the-west old or niche anime, or even have pivoted to non-anime Japanese content that never gets international release. But they used to be the taste-makers of the community; now they are the fringe devotees in a culture that has moved beyond them. So fansubs remain something of a joke of the 90's and 2000's in the eyes of the anime culture of today, in a way that maybe they don't deserve.

#may have said this before - it be that way sometimes #anime culture discourse

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murdrdocs · 6 months

Text

BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE. miguel o'hara

description. if you're not his to have, why do you look like the one he has loved? why do you spread your legs and whine and moan for him?

includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, DUBCON & CNC ELEMENTS (it's complicated fr), SMUT 18+, slightly angsty but mostly filfthy smut, fem!reader, massive size kink, dacryphilia, p n v, oral (fem receiving), animalistic miguel (fangs and claws included), possessive miguel, reader is a variant of miguel's late wife, reader's miguel is dead, slight dumbification, power play, cervix kissing, brief mention of paralyzing reader unwillingly, told from miguel's pov (still 2nd person), creampies, like 3 spanish pet names (author does not speak spanish)

wc: 5.5k+

fanart creds to @shuploc

→ kinktober masterlist

He stalks his prey from the window.

The house looks the same. There’s not much dust anywhere, there’s still four seats at the kitchen table and the still slightly cluttered island, the couches are the same worn in set. He can’t tell what the floorboards are like from outside, but he figures that there’s still the scratches from young Gabriella, or the times he dragged his luggage across the living room instead of picking it up like you wanted him too.

He wonders if the kitchen has the one mixed matched knob on the furthest left cabinet like his house does. He remembers the time he underestimated his anger fueled strength, leading to the custom made knob being ripped off the wood. He remembers how upset you were for a second, mourning the loss, and then the flare of lust in your eyes as you looked at him.

You look the same.

A little thinner, clothing a little more muted than before, but you’re still you.

Even though he knows you’re not the woman he married.

And he’s not the Miguel you married.

But you’re still his wife.

He notices you wear your wedding ring, the band accompanying it, and he notices you’re wearing the necklace he got you for your first anniversary. So much is the same that he finds it hard to believe he’s in a different universe. He’s finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t supposed to be here.

But the confusion on your face when you open the door quickly reminds him.

It takes a while for you to calm down from the hysterics. He makes you your favorite tea, marveling, because this is the same, too. He rubs your back when you start to inch more towards him than away. He coos in your ear lovingly, calling you the sweet pet names that you always responded to.

And when your cheeks are dried just enough, Miguel’s lips are on yours.

He meant to lead more up to it. He didn’t even think he came here for this. But you smell like you and you look like you and you feel like you and Miguel just couldn’t take it anymore.

You stall in the kiss, freezing against him, but Miguel continues. He knows you love him. He knows you’re as eager to see him as he is to see you. And he knows you want him as much as he wants you.

You kiss him tentatively at first, and Miguel slows to let you set the pace. He follows your lead, gently connecting his lips with yours, a hand rising to cup your cheek. He slides his palm towards your head to stick his fingers tips in your roots, digits separating around your ear. It’s shocking almost, how his hand envelopes your entire cheek; fingers spread close to your eye all the way down to your jaw.

And it’s with this –– and your hands going to his shoulders –– that Miguel realizes just how much bigger than you he is. He almost dwarfs you in comparison, having both stature and structure over you.

The thought makes him animalistic.

He groans into the kiss, his other hand cupping your other cheek, and he can’t take it slow much longer. He kisses you aggressively, noses smashing together before he tilts his head, and even then his nose digs into your cheek.

You hum, slightly apprehensively, and Miguel feels your eyebrows furrow. Your hands lay over his, and he thinks you’re going to push him away. He prepares himself.

But you don’t.

You keep kissing him, movements still slow so you don’t move in time like you should.

But Miguel’s forgiving.

He takes one of his hands away to slide it down your back, rough palm rubbing against the worn in fabric of your crewneck. It fits you a little big, Miguel remembers from when he came in, and he wonders if it’s his. The him from here, smaller due to the lack of necessity to go out in a Spiderman suit.

The envy that he feels makes him aggressive. This time he growls.

Miguel fists the back of your shirt, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer, and it’s with this movement that you pull back.

He chases your lips, and you let him kiss you once, twice, and Miguel goes for a third time until your lips pull from his with a smack.

“Miguel …” you say, voice uneasy, a little shy. Not like his wife but he remembers that you’re not his wife.

He’s instantly apologizing, fear rising in his chest. “I’m sorry. Am I too much?”

Your smile is soft and comforting. Miguel quickly feels at ease and he suddenly wants to cry. Just the effect you’ve always had on him.

“No. You’re never too much for me. I’ll always want you. Always.”

And that’s the same too. His eyes soften for a second, widening as his eyebrows lift. He searches your gaze for the look, the one that tells him you want this, that this is where you want the night to go. Because he doesn’t know if that’s what you mean.

But you smile gently, you nod, you bite down onto your bottom lip, and Miguel knows.

His body engulfs yours.

You lay there, small in structure, but also in nature, too. You look shy, timid, intimidated by the large man above you. Which does nothing but hardens the prominent length between Miguel’s legs.

He likes that he has this above you. He likes that your safety, your pleasure, your comfort, all relies on him.

Most of all, he likes how your legs spread for him, even though your mouth says something different.

“Miguel, I don’t think we should do this. You’re not my husband, you—“

“I’m not?” He dips down, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s just his front ones this time. He licks the spot, kisses it. “Am I not your husband?”

Your head shakes and your hands go to his shoulders.

“N … No. You’re not my Miguel. You’re not the father of my child.”

Miguel hisses and his chest flares with anger. He didn’t need the reminder, not at a moment like this. He fists the sheets beside your head to calm himself, but when he nips you this time, it’s with his sharp canines. It’s not strong enough to pierce your skin, maybe not even strong enough to sting.

You suck in a sharp breath anyway, realizing you did something wrong, and you’re quick to apologize, leaving Miguel to shut it down.

“Don’t apologize, cariño. Just be good for me, yeah? Let me feel you.”

His free hand slides down between your legs, forcibly cupping your mound, pushing the heel of his palm into the area where your clit resides. You hiss, your back arching, but your hands push at Miguel’s shoulders.

“Mig, this isn’t right, this isn’t—“ but he’s cutting you off, tired of hearing your excuses.

His lips kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks, his mind racing with how soft your skin is, and how thin the layers truly are. If he wanted to, he could easily sink his fangs into you, claiming you forever.

He considers the thought as he chooses to gently press his lips into your skin instead.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Missed you so much, beautiful. I need you.” Your sounds are soft, little breaths, almost mewls whenever Miguel sucks harder in a spot.

It’s all music to his ears. It does nothing but fuels his desires more and more. He wants you louder, he wants you to whine and cry for him.

And Miguel has always been determined. He’ll do anything to reach his goal.

His middle and ring fingers separate from the rest on your mound to press between your lips, the pinky and pointer fingers spreading them so his middle fingers can settle between.

Your mouth falls open.

Miguel can tell when he hears the clearly audible breaths you let out that sound a lot more like panting than breathing.

“You still make those pretty little noises, too, yeah?” He pulls his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you head on, brown eyes searching yours. If he’s reading you right, he’s noticing it all. There’s shock, some guilt, maybe a tiny bit of fear, but Miguel can clearly see the arousal in them.

He can’t help but smirk, smug and overconfident as he tilts his head. “I wanna hear everything, okay? I need to hear how good I make you feel.”

He leans down, forehead pressing against yours, and you’re so warm, nearly sweating even though Miguel has done absolutely nothing to bring you true pleasure. Your eyes close while his stay open, and Miguel takes a second to admire just how gorgeous you are.

He takes in all of the similarities; from your eyebrows, to your eyelashes, to your nose, to your lips. But it’s beside your lip that he notices something not right. You have a scar, deep enough to be visible, clearly healed, but it’s there. His eyebrows furrow, he gets possessive, he gets angry, because you weren’t protected. You’d gotten hurt, and he knows that if he were here, the Miguel above you not the other one, this wouldn’t have happened.

So when Miguel presses his lips to yours, it’s soft at first. Gentle for a few moments as he tries to communicate the fact that this Miguel, while he might not be your husband or the father of Gabriella, is willing to be your protector all the same.

He wants to be more gentle with this entire ordeal, but you start to kiss him back and he loses it again. He starts to devour you, face a little scrunched as he pushes his lips against yours, moving with a pressure and pace that overwhelms you.

Your smaller hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, bunching the material up at his shoulders, pushing at them but Miguel barely even moves. Miguel understands that your reaction comes from the way he’s attacking your lips, but the more illogical part of his brain reasons that you want his shirt gone, so he pulls back long enough to yank the fabric over his head with one hand.

It’s thrown off and into one of the clean corners of your bedroom, Miguel’s eyes quickly taking in just how clean the room is. He notices the lack of anything belonging to him, save for an old pair of sneakers that sit in the vicinity of his shirt.

Sadness overtakes him for a second, but then he hears your soft “wow” and he turns back to you. Your eyes are tracing his exposed body, taking in his physique. Your hands reach out, hovering over his biceps before they rest fully upon them. It’s amusing to Miguel, the way you squeeze the area and your eyes widen more.

Your heart starts to beat faster, Miguel can hear it in the silence of the bedroom, and when your eyes look at his again, he sees a bit of fear in them.

He tries not to have a positive reaction to the emotion, but he can’t help it. He’s entertained, thinking of how you’re finally realizing that Miguel is bigger than you. So much bigger. He can do whatever he wants at this moment, and you have to take it.

He doesn’t know if you’re aware, but you fucking whimper. You sound like a terrified pet, facing danger inescapable to them.

Miguel reaches his free hand out, cupping your cheek just as his occupied hand starts to rub up and down your slit. Your lips part, your eyebrows push together, and Miguel smiles.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it.”

You know the code word, Miguel made sure of it before you reached the bedroom because he would never hurt you. Not if he could control it.

You just stare at him. Not saying anything. And Miguel subtly feels your hips shift to push further down, more into his touch.

He takes it as his go ahead.

He sits back on his haunches, all six feet and nine inches of him, his chest rising and falling with shallowly taken breaths as he eyes you beneath him.

Stripped of your shirt and shorts, wearing nothing but a clearly loved bra and a pair of printed cotton panties. There’s no manufactured bow in the center of them, and Miguel briefly wonders if you still have those. He thinks back to how you’d always pull them out for date nights, or nights where Gabriella wouldn’t be home, and when he’d comment on them, hinting that you were surely expecting something, you said nothing, gently smiled, and turned towards the bathroom.

Miguel doesn’t realize it, but he’s gotten lost just staring at this single garment. Your wiggling hips breaks him out of the trance and he slips his thick fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your panties and he starts to pull them down your legs.

The movement is awkward, a product of your refusal to work with him. Your legs are spread too far, you won’t close them enough to let Miguel slide your panties down, it fucking frustrates him. He’s holding back a growl, his lips clamped shut in a thin line so he doesn’t snarl.

“Baby, just close your legs a little, let me–” but his words are cut off as Miguel grips one side of your underwear with both hands, and then the fabric is broken into two.

A sharp gasp from you and your legs clamp shut. But Miguel’s not having any of that. His hands, palms rough against your soft skin, grips your knees, muscles barely flexing as he easily pulls your legs apart.

He briefly wonders if the lack of resistance comes from your own personal will, or if he’s just that much stronger than you. Either thought has Miguel feeling a little dizzy, his blinks slowing as your opened legs reveal a slickened cunt.

Pretty, glistening with your juices, evidence of how much your body wants him. He starts to salivate a little, his enhanced nose picking up on the aromatic scent coming from you.

Miguel barely realizes that it’s happening, but suddenly he’s leveled with your cunt and his breath is fanning against the most sensitive parts of you.

You jump, moving a little further up the bed and away from him, your escape futile when large hands drape over the tops of your thighs, pulling you back to him and pushing you down into the mattress simultaneously.

Miguel’s sure that the sound that escapes from your mouth would’ve been a whimper if he hadn’t decided that now was the time to lick a long stripe from the lowest point of your cunt, to the clit.

It’s slow, a little torturous on his end, but it’s worth it with the reaction you give him.

Mouth dropping, eyes widening as your eyebrows attempt to meet in the middle, your hands fisting the sheets, your hips trying to pull away from him and get closer at the same time.

How reactive you are does nothing but excite Miguel.

He launches forward, head burying in your essence, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep inhales. He gets lightheaded for a second, the dizziness coming back, but he reminds himself to breathe when his nose bumps against your clit and he hears you take a deep inhale.

What follows is Miguel O’hara behaving in a way that can barely be akin to a man, more akin to a beast, as he tries his best to devour you. The sounds are sinful; Miguel’s saliva combining with your wetness, his tongue uncoordinated as it plunges into your walls and comes back out to slurp the surrounding area.

This isn’t his best work, and he wants to correct his technique to bring you more pleasure, but he can’t get enough. He’s like a man starved, attempting to consume a meal as if someone’s waiting to take it away from him.

Briefly, he’s reminded that someone could take this all away. He can’t stay for long, or else your universe could collapse. He shouldn’t be here in the first place. But his greed, the very thing he’s displaying now, brought him here, completely on selfish desires.

Guilt attempts to cloak his being, but you whine and Miguel’s right back in it.

He lifts his mouth to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucks, once, twice, flattens his tongue to swirl the bud around, and then he bares his teeth, turns his head to the left, and his right fang gently connects with the sensitive nerve ending.

A little gasp comes from you. “Fuck,” you whisper, and Miguel wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

It’s a positive reaction, he figures, so he does it again. And again. And one more time before he has two fingers plunging into your walls, inching further in even as you heave.

“Not used to this, are you? Your little fingers haven’t been cutting it. Need something bigger to fill you up.”

Miguel lifts himself again, arm going to rest beside your head, body hovering over yours once more.

You don’t say anything, but Miguel’s fine with that. The pads of his fingers are deep inside of you, they’re massaging your walls, curled and reaching for the spot that Miguel still hasn’t forgotten. He finds it after a little too long, and you try to stifle the sound by biting onto your bottom lip, but Miguel can see the pleasure.

It shows in your wide, pleading eyes. In your raised eyebrows. In your flared nostrils.

He smirks, proud of himself, and pays special attention there.

“That’s it. There it is. ‘S all the same.”

He kisses your cheek and his fingers slowly pull out, only to thrust back in, finding the area of that spot over and over again. It has you mewling, your legs spread, your body clearly enjoying it even though you pretend the opposite.

“Mig, Miguel, please, I … I’m, it’s all…” You’re saying so much but so little. Little jumbles of words that preface something that never comes. He can’t tell if you’re begging him to keep going or to stop. He doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to.

Not with the way you’re so obviously close.

One of your hands fling to wrap around Miguel’s wrist, and he fucking laughs when he sees that your pointer finger and thumb is miles apart, on opposites sides of his wrist.

“Don’t know how you’re gonna take this cock, baby. So fucking tiny beneath me. ‘M gonna split you open.” The words are whispered in your ear, meant as a warning, maybe even a promise, but it feels borderline threatening coming through his bared teeth.

Your head turns away from him, your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re practically intelligible when you say, “‘M close.”

It’s like Miguel’s been presented with a goal that could alter everything. He needs to make you come, this time being the first of many tonight.

He has a thirst that can only be satisfied by feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around his fingers.

He kisses your temple, his fingers speed up, and he’s encouraging you.

Not even a few moments later Miguel’s fingers are constricted. His hand lifts with your hips, his ears drink in the sounds you let out; little moans and huffs of air that you’re clearly trying to keep hidden. Which Miguel is fine with for now, because he knows in due time you’ll be screaming around his cock, not even aware of the sounds that you make as you reside in complete ecstasy.

You’re barely calmed down, the occasional twitch still in your legs, before you’re looking over at him.

He stands off to the side of the bed now, eyes on you as his thumbs dig into the elastic of his gray sweatpants. He tugs them down, watching your eyes trail down his body. He exhales, abs flexing with the breath, and your eyes get just a little wider.

But when his sweats are on the floor, and he’s stepped out of them, your eyes are low, lidded not just from the directional change, trained on the way his cock is straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs.

He steps closer, hand cupping your cheek, head dipped as he looks at you.

“Would you like to do the honors?” A phrase he’s uttered frequently to you in this setting. Usually a wicked smile, and eager hands is your response.

Now, you tilt your head, assumingly letting the words translate in your head, and Miguel realizes that it’s really been a while since you’ve had your Miguel.

When you understand, your hand reaches out to his boxers, but then it stops midway.

Miguel nods. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Then your nails scratch at his lower abdomen, beginning to stick under the elastic.

“There you go.” His eyes turn down, watching his crotch, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric. They flutter shut when you wrap your hand around him.

The first touch is always the best for Miguel. He shudders, the feeling translating to a shaky breath.

He wants to keep his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of you starting to timidly stroke him, but he feels eyes on him, and there’s nothing Miguel loves more than your eyes.

So he looks down at you, he watches you as your hand trails to the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum along the circumference to give you better slip.

Your hand glides up and down the expanse of Miguel’s cock, feeling him up, working him slowly.

It feels nice. But it’s not nearly enough.

Miguel takes the liberty to pull his briefs down his hips, the garment meeting the same fate as his pants.

Your hand is still around him, but your grip falters just a bit when his cock springs free.

Miguel watches your eyes size him up, taking in the sheer length and girth of him.

He can already predict what you’re going to say before you go.

“Miguel. It’s not gonna fit.”

The fear returns to you. It shines in your eyes, flares in your chest, scrapes up your limbs and leaves goosebumps in its trail.

His head shakes. “It’ll fit, amor. I’ll make sure it fits.”

He wants the words to soothe you. He hopes the words will soothe you.

But as he situates himself between your legs, as he arranges your legs to lay over his, as he starts to line himself up, you look even more fearful.

You’re clenched tight, it’s showing in your entire body, so Miguel rubs his thumbs along your hips, and he gives you what he thinks is a comforting look. He hasn’t been able to contort his features into that look for a while now, and he’s sure that he’s out of practice, but it works.

Your eyes set on his face, they roam over his features, then they lock onto his eyes like meeting a target.

There’s an unspoken agreement for him to proceed.

So he does.

You’re tight. Miguel knew you would be, but it’s still slightly unexpected. He can’t help but hiss as the head starts to breach. You’re tight.

“Baby. Let me in. Breathe.”

You try to do so, but it’s like no matter how many calming breaths you take, you get tighter as Miguel continues to push.

It gets to the point where Miguel has no choice but to keep going, hoping that his attempt at soothing words work as he buries himself to the hilt. Miraculously, it’s only then that you relax, the feeling of loosening alerting Miguel of the change.

He looks at your expression, satisfied to see your features slack, starting to morph into pleasure once more.

He starts to move, slow drags out and even slower pushes back in.

They’re intended to allow you room to adjust, to cease your whines and provide you comfort, in an alarmingly discomforting situation. Miguel thinks it’s working. You go mostly silent, he wrenches his eyes closed in pleasure, but they peel back open whenever he hears sniffles.

It’s impossible for him to continue holding back when you look at him all pretty like this. Tears streaming down the sides of your face, pooling in your hair, salty liquid sticking your eyelashes together as you blink pathetically up at him.

Something tugs at him, telling him to give it his all.

So he does. He takes what he wants.

He takes what he deserves.

His snapping into yours with a force that sends you up the bed each time. He refuses to let you off the hook like this, hands gripping your hips, your soft and supple skin pinched between calloused fingers. You whine, crying out desperately as you push at Miguel’s hands.

He doesn’t let up, believing that this is the only way to keep you close to him. Even if it hurts.

He gives you some reprieve, however, taking away one of his hands to slide up the back of your thigh. He hooks your limb over his hip, encouraging you to dig your heel into the dimples at his lower back. It’s something the you that belongs to him would’ve done, and there’s a split second of fear in his chest as he anxiously waits for you to do it now.

Whenever you do, the heel of your foot pressing into the skin right above his ass, he snarls. It’s unfiltered, an accident, but it’s real and raw.

His claws come out and they swipe at your skin accidentally. A gasp from you, then a wince, alerts Miguel of the mishap, and his heart stops. His hips stop. He’s hurt you. He’s done the thing he swore he never would.

You look at the bleeding cut, then at him, and Miguel doesn’t see hurt in your face. Instead, you pull him closer, arching your back, pushing your hips into his and grinding as best as you can against him.

You go from stoic and pliant to untamed, your own nails digging into his forearms, your hips lifting off of the bed in what should be an unattractive motion.

Yet there’s nothing that you could do that could be unattractive in Miguel’s eyes.

He’s sworn to love you forever, despite the Universal difference.

He licks his lips, and with the motion he feels his fangs. Sharp, pointy, ready to plunge into whatever flesh he can reach. He once again considers it for a second, sinking his teeth into your thigh and rendering your limbs useless. Keeping you stuck to the bed for him to use and abuse however he’d like.

But you’ve been behaving so well tonight. So he finds no need.

Miguel angles his hips differently and you whimper, the sound sweet and small and soft from you. It resembles a “hng”, tailoring off into a gasp towards the end that has Miguel grunting in response.

“Acting like you’ve never been fucked like this before.” His voice is rough, lacking any romanticism in the tone. He could barely care less.

“Maybe you haven’t. Has no man taken you like this? This sweet, supple body, left unused for this long. You know that’s not your purpose. You’re wasting your potential, honey. This is what you’re made for.” He punctuates his statement with a piercing thrust, hitting a spot that makes you gasp sharply.

“Made to give men like me pleasure. Not many can take what I can give, but you can, right?” You nod eagerly, seemingly attempting to prove your agreement by taking a deep breath and relaxing your cunt around Miguel enough for him to slide just a little deeper.

He smirks, hand reaching to your tit where he strokes your nipple with his thumb. “Such a good girl. Probably make a good little housewife too. Maybe I'll stick around. We could do this more often. Get this tight little body to take me 24/7 until it’s second nature. I can feel her struggling around me. Pussy’s too tight. Hasn’t had a big cock to fill it in a while. But that’s alright, we can train her. She’ll be as good as new in no time, yeah?”

It seems he’s fucked you too good, beyond any verbal or nonverbal responses from you. Instead, you’re a mess of whines and groans. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling at the corner just before it fills over and slides down your chin. It doesn’t bother you, or you have more important things to focus on, because you let it glide down until it sits in your clavicle.

Miguel’s ego inflates as he watches you fall apart like this. Earlier tonight you were the picture of perfection; a neat outfit, a neat home, your emotions and responses polished. But you shed all of that for him. Because of him.

In his mind, there’s no greater honor.

Especially whenever he slides his hand down to your clit, flicks your bud one, two, three, times, and then your back arches as your orgasm travels through your body.

He sees it start in your loins first. Your pelvis rocks against his ferociously, and then it stops, twitching every so often as your orgasm travels to your limbs then. Your legs lifting, hovering on either side of Miguel and twitching sporadically as he continues to fuck you despite your feeble hands pushing at his shoulders.

He’s bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and he knows what’s best. He knows your body better than you do. He knows you can handle another.

He knows you need another.

So he continues.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and starts fucking you to a second round of completion.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tensing as you brace yourself through the pain. But Miguel tuts.

“None of that, baby. Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this way.” It takes you a second. You huff, your eyebrows push together.

Miguel rolls his eyes. He lifts one hand, taps your cheek with enough force to have your eyes snap open, and then he grips your face. “I said: Look at me.”

You do as told now, fear flashing through your eyes, and Miguel grins. He likes the power. He likes this feeling.

“There you go. That’s it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now give me another. Just one more, my love.”

He’s so deep within you, your arousal leaking out around him, giving him access to the uncharted parts of you by virtue of providing absolutely no resistance. There’s possibly the easiest slip and slide happening between the two of you, Miguel’s cock entering and exiting your cunt rapidly, shallow thrusts that reach mere inches away from your cervix each time.

Each drive into you prompts a sound, a gasp or moan or just a force of air from your diaphragm. They spur Miguel on, the vigilante adjusting your leg over his shoulder just a little, his chest almost parallel to yours as he forces himself deeper and fucks you harder.

“C’mon, baby. When you’re ready, just let go for me.”

He’s close at this point, too, but he absolutely refuses to cum without you clenching around him.

His wish comes true just a few thrusts later. This orgasm builds longer, your walls starting to flutter a few moments before your moans crescendo.

“There we go. There we––” His words are cut off short as his orgasm pushes through his body. His balls twitch, his hips stutter, and he’s shooting warm ropes into your fluttering cunt. He can feel his claws come out and pierce the fabric of your mattress, but he doesn’t think about how he’ll replace it yet. Instead he focuses on this feeling.

The euphoria taking over every fiber of his being as his hips automatically piston into you a couple of times as your cunt greedily milks him. It’s not until he has none left that he pulls out of you, his cock steadily softening, creating a sensitivity that has Miguel wincing.

You’re silent except for a few breaths and Miguel mirrors your state.

You both lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Miguel looks over at you after what could be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes.

You’re already looking at him, smiling softly. He smiles, too, his features getting softer whenever your hand raises and cups his cheek. He places his hand over yours, body relaxing when he feels your wedding ring.

“I’m glad you came back to me,” you say, voice earnest and honest.

Miguel pulls you into his chest.

#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑 #migueltobr!#miguel o'hara x reader #miguelsworld!#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099

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sweetimpurity · 2 months

Text

"I Think I'll Keep You"

NSFW MINORS DNI

“That’s it- c’mon deeper, you can take it” Miguel smirked from above you. He had you right where he wanted you. On your knees on his dorm room floor, his dick deep in your throat as he thrusted deeper, making you gulp and whimper around him.

“Fuck~” He curses and his hand in your hair gets a little tighter, holding your head in place, taking your mouth for his pleasure. Your eyes close in concentration, trying to just relax and take him as deep as he was going. There was no use in trying to stop him. And you didn’t really want to stop him. You had dreamt of him, had a crush on him… for so, so long. Everyone in school did. But you never expected it to actually happen, especially not like this. Him taking your mouth so ruthlessly.

You were a very good student, a nice person, a little too nice sometimes. Too nice to know when to trust people and when they were just taking advantage of you. Miguel had noticed you one day. You had been in a bunch of classes together but he had never really noticed you before. You were in the library tutoring a classmate for a big exam. That's sort of how you were known around school… smart… helpful… innocent. He saw this as an opportunity, ripping your number off of the flier in the hallway and inviting you to his dorm to study. It was a shock to you at first when his text popped up asking you to schedule a session with him. He was definitely the most popular person at school, athletic, captain of the soccer team and you recalled him being very smart. You thought he got good grades but maybe he had just fallen behind, needed some extra help. It wasn’t in your nature to turn people away when they were asking for help. Even if you were a little nervous to be alone with him.

Miguel saw this as a challenge for himself. He challenged himself to get you on your knees as soon as he possibly could. This was never about studying for him. You just barely placed your textbooks on his desk before he was whispering in your ear about how he heard you liked him. Even if he was lying, he was confident enough to know that you did have feelings for him, how could you not? He knew you wanted him, or he could make you want him, and that made him excited. He didn’t want you, he just wanted one thing from you. And he was sure he could get you to give it to him.

He had many people in rotation who would gladly give him what he wanted, but he wanted it from you, he wanted you, this sweet innocent thing, to give him exactly what he demanded.

So here you are, right where he planned for you to be, looking up at him with glossy innocent eyes as he abuses your mouth with his thickness. Drool drips down your chin as he smirks and tilts his head back, relishing in the pleasure he’s able to take from you.

“You look so pretty like this, so… so pretty..so…” He mumbles half-genuine praises as he moves his hips steady, his mouth agape and brow furrowed, eyes closed, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your plush lips and your warm mouth around him. His praises make you smile and moan around his cock, looking up at him so cockdrunk and happy that he would praise you like this. Even when he's taking advantage of your feelings for him.

You smile around him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he picks up the pace, fucking your mouth. Your wet eyelashes flutter as you try to look up at him, see him writhing from all of this pleasure you’re able to give him. The pleasure he’s taking from you.

“Fuck- fuck- fu-” He groans and gasps and you can feel his warm release down your throat. Swallowing multiple times so that you don’t choke. He stays in your throat for a few seconds, his chest heaving with labored breath. You try your best to breathe through your nose, waiting for it to be over, but never wanting it to end at the same time. He finally pulls out of your mouth, you gasp for air and swallow thickly again, a thick string of spit still connecting him to your mouth.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, placing your hands on top of your thighs as you look up at him. He knows he has total control.

He looks down at you with a stern expression, he looks angry, but inside he’s just confused. He was looking at you in front of him, he had never really looked your way in the past, he only knew you as the smart, perfect teacher's pet. Not his type at all… right?

You gaze up at him trying to figure out what he’s thinking as he stares down at you with a frown. “Stand up.” He commands and you listen like the obedient little one you are. You stand up and he’s still so much taller than you, so you keep looking up at him to try and understand what’s next. Does he want you to leave?

Your mind races as you watch his stern expression, observing as he steps closer and places his hands on your waist, moving them down to your hips. He decided that you were obedient and you deserved something in return. He didn’t usually do this but he was feeling strange right now. He was caught off guard by how well you just took him, how good you made him feel even when he was being so rough and ruthless. He can’t help but wonder what your moans sound like when his cock isn’t in your mouth to muffle them. He wants to taste your lips and he wants to be inside you to feel you gush on him and feel your legs shaking as he sinks deeper and deeper. He needed to know what it felt like to be inside you like that, how you’d react when he thrust his heavy cock inside your tight walls. He wanted to make you scream.

His hands on your hips grow strong and dominant as he turns you around, your back pressed into his broad chest as he uses his body to push you towards his bed. He felt conflicted, he wanted to keep up this rough invincible exterior, he was trying to make himself take you from behind so he didn’t have to see your face. He feared what would happen if he looked at your pretty face as he fucked you. But he couldn’t help but crave it.

For now he pushed you to the edge of his bed, pushing you so the front of your thighs hit the edge of the mattress, your body squeezed tight between his body and the bed. The action almost made you fall forward but you grabbed his forearm to steady yourself, feeling his warm breath on the back of your neck as his fingers ran across it, pushing some of your hair back, exposing your neck to him. Your breathing grew heavier as he started moving his hand to your thigh, your hand still grasping his forearm as he did it. He liked the way your hand squeezed his arm as his large hand ran up your thigh and under the material of your clothing. He loved the way your pelvis squirmed when he squeezed the joint of your hip between his long fingers, your ass rubbing against him so perfectly. He’s determined to stay dominant, no matter how your small gasps and soft fingers suddenly make him want to kiss you softly and keep you for himself.

To take himself out of his thoughts, he moves his hand suddenly to your underwear, not letting himself be gentle as he dips his hand under the material, making you whimper and squirm. He wraps his other arm around your waist to keep you still as you grip his tortuous arm and gasp at the contact of his thick fingers on your sensitivity.

“Relax baby, you’ve done so well, don’t disappoint me now.” He hums soft and still somehow rough in your ear as two fingers plunge knuckle deep inside you, his arm tightens again around your waist as you melt and moan. “M-Miguel- ah!” You moan and gasp his name and a pocket of heat bursts in his stomach upon hearing you, waiting to bloom into a raging fire. But it was different this time, he’s not determined to take something from you like he had been planning, like he did successfully just moments ago when he forced his cock down your throat. He’s determined to make you moan his name like that over and over again. He’s determined to make you feel better than anyone ever had or ever would in your life. He can’t explain it, he just needs it… he needs for you to feel what he can do.

The force of his fingers and his broad chest against your back makes your knees buckle, making you almost fall forward onto the bed, but Miguel isn’t done with this yet. His hand moves from your waist, snaking up your chest and to your throat, lightly putting pressure there just to keep you upright, keeping you against his chest as he plunges his fingers roughly into your sweetness. His fingers are thick and experienced, expertly finding the spots that make your stomach muscles tighten and pretty moans rumble in your throat.

“M-ah! Miguel…” He knows you’re getting close. From the way your hand tightens on his wrist to the way endless urgent moans vibrate against his hand that’s still clasped around your throat. When he feels you squirming he adjusts his grip, moving his arm so his fingers can reach even deeper depths within you, pumping his thick digits faster and harder. His hand on your throat splays out, his fingertips on the curve of your jaw, spilling onto your face and holding you in an iron grip.

He can barely hold himself back seeing you like this. His arousal is growing once again and his cock presses against your lower back, heavy and needy. His head dips down to your shoulder, sucking and licking dark hickies into your soft skin. Marking you, even though he told himself this would be a one time thing, he’s not so sure he can keep that promise to himself any longer.

“Mig- ah! I’m- I-“ You writhe and moan in his grasp, rolling your hips into his hand as your orgasm hits you. Your stomach burns and tingles, little snaps of pleasure going off like fireworks in your shaking thighs. Your sweet, grateful hole pulsing around his fingers, unable to fathom how you could feel this much pleasure. Your back arches involuntarily and he loves to see you so undone, pressing his lips to your shoulder as he fucks his fingers into you through it all, heightening every sensitivity.

You’re nothing but a teary, shaking mess by the time he pulls his thick, hot fingers from you. Giving you time to breathe and come down as he starts to strip you. He needs you bare, he needs to feel your skin. Miguel continues taking off your bottoms and your underwear completely, the liquid of your arousal dripping onto his hands and your inner thighs as he pulls them down and off of you. Your mind is fuzzy at this point, letting him do whatever he’s going to do. He pulls your shirt over your head and runs his warm hands down your arms softly, almost affectionately, bringing goosebumps to your back. He pushes his clothed, hardened dick deeper into your back, making sure you feel how badly he wants you. To take you.

You feel the movement of him taking off his own clothing behind you, feeling the chill of the air on your back as he pulls away, only to be brought back again. This time, the warm bare skin of his chest presses into your upper back. His head dips down into the crook of your neck, blessing you with one kiss on your throat before humming low and deep in your ear.

“You’ve been so good for me, little one… such a sweet baby…” His words send a shiver down your spine, and his hand moves to your neck again, giving it a light squeeze. His voice drops to a whisper. “I’m gonna take you… you’re gonna be mine…” He whispers almost like he’s talking to himself as his thumb rubs circles into the pressure point on your throat. He’s trying his best to keep this up, this dominant, rough exterior. But he can’t help it, you’ve managed to make him a little weaker. “But I want to see your pretty face…”

Your eyes flutter and a slight blush fans over your cheeks at his words, feeling his hands as they rest on your hips and start to turn you around to face him. When you face him, it’s almost like you’re reminded of what’s happening right now. As if your mind has been made so mushy that you suddenly remember you’re here with Miguel O’Hara. It’s something you never thought would happen and best of all, he wants you. Badly…

And he looks ever so handsome with his face slightly flushed and some strands of his dark hair falling down over his forehead. Your eyes travel from his hair to his furrowed brow, down the bridge of his nose and to his perfect, parted lips. Makes your heart skip a beat seeing his perfect face this close up and knowing he was just knuckle deep inside you, making you squirm and cum with just his fingers. Your eyes flick up to look in his darkened eyes. His gaze is so piercing as if he’s trying to read your thoughts.

And you’re surprised when he does that successfully, tilting his head down and softly kissing your lips for the first time, your lips parting in a small gasp of relief, feeling his plush lips against yours. Your shaking hands find a home on his chest, feeling his muscles move with every expansion of breath and his heart beating strong and steady under your palm. You feel as his hands splay out on your back, one hand moving up to the back of your neck as his tongue swipes your bottom lip and enters your mouth, dancing and tangling with your tongue in rhythm.

Within a moment he anchors his arm around your lower back and lifts you up, not breaking contact with your lips even for a second as he moves you up onto his bed. Your knees naturally pull up a little and spread to the sides of his waist, squeezing his hips slightly to hold onto him as he lowers you down onto the sheets. You can feel some of his weight between your thighs as he hovers over you, resting on his forearms on both sides of your head, kissing you deeply, passionately. He cradles the back of your head in his large hand, it makes you feel so small and fragile in his hands. And it’s not because you are so tiny by any means. You’re not even what you yourself would consider skinny. But Miguel is just so massive, so big himself that it’s fun to feel small, even if you’ve never felt that way in your life. He makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And he loves this. He loves being so massive that he can make you feel so tiny, it makes him feel powerful.

His kisses deepen and move to your cheeks, your jaw and your neck as his hand moves down your body, squeezing at your soft skin and ghosting his fingers teasingly across the expanse of your soft, supple, fleshy stomach. Sucking hickies into your neck now, he presses his palm to the fat of your stomach, feeling the muscles of your abdomen clench and tighten. He knows you need him… and he can’t help but crave your body, which is just utter perfection in his eyes.

The tension is building and neither of you can wait much longer. He moves to kiss your lips again, this time rough and breathy. He lowers his hand to your thigh all the way down to your calf and pulls your leg around his waist, doing the same with the other leg until your ankles are locked behind his back.

Staring deeply into your glossy eyes he rests on one arm, his other hand slowly pushes his dick down onto your sensitivity. Not inside you. Not yet. But close enough to have you moaning right in his face, desperate eyes locked as he massages his big dick through your sex.

He kisses your lips once more, ghosting his lips over your cheek as he whispers to you. “You want my cock?… you want me to fuck you?” His words make you moan against his ear and grasp at his biceps, feeling his muscles move as he keeps slapping and rubbing his cock where you need him most. “Mm… yes… please” You whisper in agony.

“You want to feel me right… here?” He asks softly, looking in your eyes and pressing his palm to your lower stomach again, right on the place where your orgasm bloomed just minutes ago, making you shudder and tremble. “Yes… yes please” You whine softly, creasing your brows in frustration and need, his questions making all of this harder to bear any longer.

“You want me to cum inside you?” He whispers so softly, kissing the corners of your lips as you can feel the gummy tip of his dick pressing at your entrance, making your eyelashes flutter and your fingers dig deeper into his muscles. You whimper, almost a sob, with tears in your eyes. “Yes.”

With your words of permission he nestles his hips between your thighs and uses the pad of his thumb to plunge his thick, heavy cock inside you. Stretching you with every inch while you whine and squirm beneath him, held still by his large hand pressing down on your tensing abdomen. Hot tears roll down the sides of your face as you gasp and moan at the feeling. He wraps an arm under your lower back and pulls your hips up a little so he can sink in deeper, watching your face as your eyes roll up into the back of your head. Once he’s buried inside as deep as he can manage, he pulls out entirely and pistons his dick back inside you, earning a pleasant cry from the back of your throat. Your legs tighten around his back in reflex and your head tilts back, whimpering in a beautiful mix of pain and pleasure.

He does this a few more times, just to see how you react. Loving the urgent almost painful cries that come out of you when he does it. Over and over he does this, pulling out and then pumping back inside you, deep and hard. Maybe he just wants to see you cry more… maybe he just wants to hear you moan louder… maybe he wants to hurt you… He’s not quite sure himself, yet, but all he knows is that you’re squeezing him just right every time he does it, and he can’t bring himself to stop. With one last sob from your perfect flushed lips he starts a more steady rhythm, putting a stop to the torture he knew he was inflicting on you and giving you want you want. He wants it too.

Your moans grow softer, dreamier as he starts this rhythm. His hips moving against you with just the right amount of pressure. He’s really good at this, you think to yourself.

Rubbing his hand over your thighs as he pumps his dick into your sweetness, he leans down over you again, getting closer, grabbing both of your shaking hands in one of his big hands and pinning them above your head, causing you to whimper softly, eyelashes fluttering as you try to look up at him, only to see his brow furrowed, a stern expression on his face as he fucks you breathless.

Supporting himself on his elbows, he keeps your hands above your head with one hand and moves his other hand under you, to the back of your neck. His fingers are so long that he wraps his hand from the back of your neck, to the sides, managing to put some pressure there. His thumb presses to your pressure point softly, knowing exactly what he’s doing. And he’s got you completely at his mercy. Trapped between his broad chest, his big hands and his greedy cock, all you can do is receive and let him take you. He won’t let you do anything but that.

“Oh my- M-Miguel!” You moan and cry out as he changes the way his hips are moving. He tightens his grip on your hands above your head and starts rolling his hips into you. No more back and forth. Your stomach muscles tighten as he stays deeply buried within you, his thrusts getting slower but much, much deeper. Almost painfully deep.

It makes you hiss, gritting your teeth and your brow creases looking at him. Your breathing gets heavier and more labored as he keeps pumping as deep as he can. “Mi- I- it’s-“ You start to say, you don’t know if you need him to stop or keep going.

“Just take it… take all of it… it’s yours…” He says in his deep, smooth voice. You moan at his words and his head dips down to your chest, sucking into your skin and biting you anywhere he can. He breathes hot and urgent on your chest and you know he’s close too. You can only imagine what it feels like for him to fill you up with his offering.

“I can feel it, baby…you’re so close, squeezing me so perfect…” He pants and picks up the pace, bringing both of you there. A raspy cry rumbles in your chest and in the back of your throat as your head tilts back. He takes his hand off of your hands, but you're too delirious to do anything with them so you just keep them up there for now. He moves both of his hands to your waist, holding you and pumping into you as fast as he can. One of his big hands splays out onto your tummy, pressing down slightly and it drastically increases the pressure for both of you.

“Coming! I’m c- I’m com-“ You yelp urgently and your thighs squeeze his hips tightly. Your back arches off the bed and he leans down, kissing down your chest as it rises up off the mattress. He groans into your skin and you could have sworn you heard him growl. Deep vibrations reverberate in his chest.

As your second orgasm of the night hits you hard you clasp your hands over your mouth, blocking the loud moans from escaping. You’re sure the entire residence hall could hear you if you let those sounds escape.

Miguel watches you and his brow slowly furrows again... He shakes his head and looks down, your eyes are closed so you don’t even notice all of this happening. He closes his eyes and thrusts into you hard, chasing his own release.

Pretty soon his fingers dig into your hip and he’s spurting his hot cum inside you. Pumping you full and raw. It makes your eyes shoot open at the feeling. And you notice his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, almost scowling as he pumps his load into you. When he comes down he stops moving. You look at him nervously, catching your breath and not understanding why he looks so angry. He just came inside you. Did you do something wrong?

The tension is high all of a sudden, his silent stare making you a little nervous. Slowly he leans down again, his hand coming out to press down on your upper chest hard, pushing you into the mattress. You look up at him almost fearfully, him overpowering you completely right now. It’s in this moment you realize how strong he is. You knew he was tall and big but you had sort of forgotten he could snap you in half… hurt you if he wanted to.

He lowers his face to be close to yours, his gaze piercing. When he speaks his voice is surprisingly soft and gentle for the way he’s glaring at you right now. “Now why would you do that, baby?” He asks you seriously, and you can’t seem to understand what the hell he’s talking about.

“Do- what?” You ask innocently, you really didn’t know, you poor little thing. He shakes his head and his voice becomes sweeter, like honey. But there’s still a darkness to it.

“You have a perfectly perfect throat, baby…” He says as his hand on your chest moves to wrap around your neck gently. “I would know…” He smirks to himself.

“So I suggest you use it” He seethes, almost in a whisper. His fingers increase the pressure ever so slightly on your neck, causing you to instinctively grasp his wrist. “Don’t ever cover your mouth again, do you hear me?” His hand loosens on your throat and moves to the back of your neck, lifting your head a little bit to have complete eye contact with him.

“Yes… I-I won’t” You say softly, your anxiety levels all over the place.

He smiles at you softly and brushes some fallen hairs off of your forehead. Then he leans down and kisses your lips softly, then your cheeks. Whispering to you between every kiss.

“Such a sweet baby for me… but I need you to give me everything… wanna hear those pretty sounds I work so hard for…” He hums deep.

“Okay…” You breathe out, your hands running down his triceps absentmindedly. You want so badly to give him everything. To be louder for him. You were just too nervous before. Scared someone would hear. “N-next time… I promise I’ll- I’ll try…” You breathe, your nervous darting eyes ping ponging between his steady stark stare. Would there even be a next time?

“Oh no, baby… you’re gonna give it to me now.” He whispers and leans down to kiss your neck. You’re shocked, and you’re already so sensitive. How could you possibly take any more? “Well, I-“ You start to say, not really knowing why you’re saying it, maybe you’re just nervous you’ll mess it up again. You know you shouldn’t have covered your mouth, you should have just kept your hands up where he put them. You know he put them there for a reason.

“Shhh… it’s okay… just one more, baby that’s all I want. One more, okay?” He whispers and kisses across the expanse of your collarbone and your shoulders. He’s still inside you, he never left. And you can feel him getting harder, the pressure building up, stretching you out again even though he’s already fucked you once. You move your hips a little bit to relieve the pressure and maybe make him move a little bit. He feels this, smiles to himself and moves his hips too every so gently, tiny thrusts deep inside as you squeal and whimper softly from the heightened sensitivity you’re experiencing.

You close your eyes and try to relax, you want to be good for him, give him what he's asking for. And suddenly he stops.

“Not like this. I want you on your stomach.” He says in his normal voice and it makes your eyes open to look at him. He pulls out of you and the feeling makes you reach out and grip his bicep, whimpering at both the slight sting and the loss of him inside you. “C’mon…” He commands and puts his hands on your hips, helping you turn over as your head fills with a slight dread. You thought this was gonna be sweeter, but it seems like he’ll be even more rough than he was before.

He flips you over completely and situates himself between your legs, his hands on your ass and running up your back as he leans down to kiss your shoulders. He grabs a pillow from behind your head, causing your face to lay flat on the mattress. Folding the pillow in half, he places it under your hips, angling your hips up a little bit to make it easier for him, and for you too. This way you won’t have to try and support yourself on your shaking knees, it’s actually a nice gesture you think to yourself.

“Miguel…” You say softly, leaning up on your elbows and looking over your shoulder at him, he looks like an absolute predator right now, but his voice is like sweet melted chocolate.

“Yes, baby?” He coos and leans over you to kiss your cheek. His hands massage your hips and your ass, moving down to your pelvic bones and pulling your hips up a little bit more. You’re surprised that he can do what he does and say the words he says all with that sweet gentle voice. It makes you think about what kind of boyfriend he’d be. Probably not a nice one, but would it really matter if he can fuck you like this?

“Can- could you be gentle… I- I’m sensitive…” You request and your cheeks flush a little, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He thinks for a few heavy moments, looking back and forth between your glazed, shining eyes before kissing your cheek again. “I know you’re sensitive, baby, that’s good… it’s gonna feel so good…”

“But-“ You start to say, he never said yes or no explicitly.

“Shhh…” He leans forward and captures your lips in a kiss. Maybe to soothe you, maybe to shut you up, you’re not really sure and you don’t really care when his tongue is down your throat.

“I’ll be gentle, if you’re good for me.” He suddenly says and it makes your nerves go up. You want to get it right this time, he’s not giving you any other option. You nod to him and let your head relax onto the mattress. His hand comes up to the back of your neck and into your hair, grasping slightly at the strands and forcing your head all the way to the side so he can see the side of your face.

You breathe out gently and try to relax. You know it’s gonna feel good but you’re nervous about getting this wrong. You want to be good for him.

He trails warm wet kisses down your spine, running his hands over the soft roundness of your ass, squeezing gently with his big hands. You close your eyes and relax into the mattress, your senses fill with him. The warmth of him, the feeling of his fingertips, the sound of his breathing, the smell of him invading your senses, calming you as it emanates from his bedsheets. He smells so good. He smells like a man.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you hardly notice he’s kissing your cheek softly. His hand tugging your hair gently to keep your head to the side so he can see the side of your face.

“You ready?” He hums softly next to your ear, his fingers brushing the side of your face softly. Your eyes flutter open, surprised by his words. A small smile crosses your lips and you nod your head. “Yes…” You reply.

“Sweetness…” He whispers and kisses your jaw once more before receding back behind you. You feel his hands adjusting your hips and the pillow propping them up for him. You feel his fingers softly caressing your sex, almost in a soothing way. He knows you’ve had a lot already.

Then you feel his hand on your back and the head of his dick at your entrance. Slowly he sinks himself into you to the hilt. Your knees bend and feet come up into the air at the feeling, your hips instinctively wanting to press down, escape him. But he keeps you in place. Whining and squirming, your hands grasp into the sheets, wanting to be good for him.

“Oh, baby…” You hear him moan and feel him massage your ass as he sinks as deep as he can. He watches as his dick disappears inside you. His hand squeezes your ass harder. He’s holding himself back from doing something else. Something he doesn’t know if you’d like. But you feel so so good, it’s almost like his hands have a mind of their own.

He slaps your ass hard. A strangled gasp and a slight growl leaving your lips and your hands gripping the sheets harder. He rubs over the red mark on your skin with his fingers tenderly.

“You like that?” He asks and your mind is hazy. You hum absentmindedly in response and nod your head against the mattress. “Do you actually like it or are you lying?” He asks and you can hear the smile on his lips. You open your eyes, realizing that he’s actually asking you, not just saying that just to say it. He leans over to look in your eyes and you’re surprised by the soft look on his face. “I-I… I don’t know…” You say sheepishly and he nods his head. “Okay… that’s okay…” He reassures you and leans in to kiss your lips. You’re pleasantly surprised by his sweetness at this point. Resting your head back down on the mattress and feeling as he presses his lips to your shoulder. He draws back his hips and pumps into you. The feeling of his cock squeezed in your sensitive walls makes your jaw drop. He moans into your shoulder and the sound gives you chills.

Your hands flex and squeeze down on the handfuls of bedsheets below you, soft whines coming from the back of your throat as he thrusts into you, his hand pressing down on your lower back, arching your hips up to him.

He speeds up, the rhythm of skin on skin filling the room, your whines turning into small squeals, music to his ears. Your hand flexes and grabs the sheets, flexing again and hitting the mattress three times as your only way to release any sort of energy building up. He grabs your wrist and pulls your arm into your side, pressing your wrist down into the mattress so you can’t move it. This only builds the pressure inside you, making all of this harder to just take. Needing some sort of release, and he's making you hold still.

You gasp and clench your teeth, pushing your face into the sheets, soft cries of overwhelming stimulation threatening to rip from your throat. It’s all too much, and he knows that. He’s panting like a hound behind you, holding your hair in his hand and your wrist to the bed.

“C’mon baby… c’mon let me hear you” He pants and dips his head into the crook of your neck. “I- I can’t…” You whisper and gasp against the bedsheets. Your knees bend, your feet coming up between his thighs as you squirm. Without even looking behind him, he pushes them down with his legs, holding you down completely.

“Just scream for me… cry for me baby… please” He breathes out and presses his mouth to your shoulder as he pumps you ruthlessly. “I need to hear you…” He demands and your breath is tight in your chest. Your words stuck on your tongue. Your moans caught in your throat.

You’re doing exactly what you told yourself you wouldn’t. You want to give him what he wants but it’s like you don’t know how. He feels so good inside you, so perfect, so full, it’s all you can think about.

He growls at your silence and leans down, bringing his mouth to your flushed shoulder and biting down hard. His sharp canines and teeth leave a mark on your skin. An urgent squeal of pain and surprise escapes you and your eyes shoot open, a growl of your own vibrating in your chest. He smiles to himself and bites you again, harder this time. You moan loud and whiny, pushing yourself up completely on your hands in reflex and in turn your back arches further. And it’s like the bite unlocked something that was stuck inside you- now you just can’t stop moaning and crying over his cock no matter how hard you try. “Oh my god! Oh Miguel! Fuck me, ah! Ah!” You whine and cry and he smiles.

At this change in position, Miguel supports your stomach with his big hand, finally letting go of your hair. He pulls you up, slowing his thrusts for only a moment as he pulls you flush against him. He’s kneeling on the bed now, your legs spread over his thighs and your back flush against his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder, jaw slack and moaning out his name as he keeps pumping up into you, the feeling making your eyelashes flutter and your stomach muscles clench. He wraps his big arms around you, nestling his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard and hot on your chest.

“Oh, god…” You pant and whine, your head leaning to the side to rest on his head. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He curses through a heavy breath against your neck. A high pitched squeal escapes your throat as your back arches against his chest and your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your squeals turn into screams and cries of his name, how good he feels, how big he is, how much you love his cock. You’re babbling and thrashing in his arms and Miguel smiles, finally getting what he wants. Hearing your sweet innocent voice screaming out the dirtiest things as he’s plunged deep inside you. His climax is building up fast and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier, his hands wrapped around the front of your shoulders and at this point he’s pulling you down onto his cock to keep the feeling going. Your orgasm has passed and you’re a soft moaning mess as he chases his own release. Snapping his hips up a few final times before his hips stutter and he’s shooting ropes of hot white inside you. Filling you up again completely, the extra dripping out and back down his shaft.

He holds you tightly against him as you both stop moving and start panting to catch your breath. You’re glad he’s still holding you because if he let go, you’d surely face plant into the mattress. Your head rests back on his shoulder and he places small kisses on your shoulder as he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deep and sighing out in relief.

“Will you be mine, little one?” He asks softly and kisses your cheek. “Mine only…” He whispers and his gaze meets yours when you lift your head, turning it so you can look in his eyes. His finger strokes your cheek softly and it’s like he’s looking at the sun. He can try to close his eyes but the memory of you will always be seared into his mind. “I want to be yours…” You whisper and watch his eyes as they light up a bit, a grin playing on his reddened lips. “Good. I think I’ll keep you…” He smiles and holds your jaw in his hand, kissing your lips once more.

#miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #smut #spiderman smut #i need him so bad #i want him so bad #miguelito

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lady-ashfade · 3 months

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Hi, I wanted to request something platonic with Percy, with him meeting his older half-sister after he finds out he's the son of Poseidon.

Sorry for my English, I'm using the translator to write, and sorry if you don't understand my request

Pictures On The Wall

Percy jackson x older!sister (platonic)

-£ this was the first thing that came to mind and it’s such a cute idea! thank you.

-£ words: 700

-£ warnings: short, nervous percy, cool reader, sassy and kinda grunge reader, siblings bonding, fluff.

the wall across from his bed was covered with many things. pictures of people he didn’t know along with a bed half made and clothes piled up. “that’s y/n’s” a name he never heard but yet was family. his half sister was somewhere on a quest and didn’t know that he was snooping round her things.

he looked at the pictures all the time, liking the smile you had. he knew that smile, a distinct memory in his mind but you wore it with pride. you looked so cool and by all the stories he heard you were one of the most awesome person at camp.

every cabin knew you, it was like he needed to fill some sort of shoe now that you walked in but he didn’t know the first thing.

“percy,” grover peaked into the cabin and looked around for his best friend, when he found him he looked nervous. “I think you should come.” percy jumped up at the sound of his voice that sounded like something horrible had happened.

percy walked along his friend while his heart raced, “what happened?” had another monster attacked the camp, what could have happened that he had to come.

“she’s back.” Grover muttered while sighing, “And we thought you should meet her.” oh,- oh gods. you were back so soon? he didn’t have a clue on what he would say or do. would you like him, would you hate him and somehow kick him out of the cabin? he’s never had a sibling before.

“she’s getting patched up and I’ll warn you,” Grover patted his shoulder with a kind smile, “she’s unpredictable at times.” Yeah, that makes me feel much better Percy thought.

as soon as the walked into the infirmary all they could hear was yelling and arguing making the young boys look at each other. they walked to the door and saw the girl on the bed glare at the other around her age.

he knew you. the picture he looked at every day you seemed to be exactly like that, but you didn’t look happy like all of them. the shirt you wore had rips in it and a bloody bandage wrapped around your arm. the redhead girl in front of you held a spoon up to your mouth but you kept fighter her off.

“I’m fine! It’s just a few scratches, I’m not a child!” it was ironic that you looked like a bratty child that wanted to stomp their feet. your lips pouted slightly. percy didn’t know what to think at the scene.

“take it. you’re just keeping yourself from leaving, so do it so I can leave!” the other girl seemed to knock some sense into you as you huffed and took the spoon in your mouth. if looks could kill then she would be on the ground by now, you looked so angry.

humming the redhead walked out of the door and looked at the boys before rolling her eyes and kept going down the hallway. you didn’t seemed to notice them as you started to take off the dirty bandages.

Grover was the first to speak, “excuse me,” you looked at him quickly but your eyes were now soft and no longer sharp. “Grover, come in!” you invited him over but your eyes soon fell on the boy next to him. and immediately the connection between the two of you went off in your head.

“you must be percy?”

he shifted closer and awkwardly not knowing want to do, “yeah. how do you know?”

“I received letters telling me of the idiot brother I seemed to have,” you chuckle and throw the dirty cloths in your hands on the bed. The cut was gone but dry blood still stayed on your skin, “you have dads eyes.” You pointed to your own.

“really?” he asked quietly as you hopped on the floor and stretched. “Oh yeah, less disappointment in them but I’ll give it time.”

you yawned and picked up the black jacket and your backpack, “I’m starving,” you stood between the two of them and then swung your arms around the two of them.

“Now, tell me what you did to Clarisse!” You smirk at the brother you just met, “my favorite sibling already.”

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x reader #platonic percy jackson #platonic percy jackson x reader #platonic x reader #fluff #brother!percy jackson

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shrenvents · 1 month

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Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, fem receiving, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus goes quiet. You watch as his expression goes blank before he acts as though he is in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious was eating away at you, as you called upon another ancestor of those he plagued. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours as you questioned his late brother, through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes darted to yours, and his angered appearance softened. Instinctively, he gripped your forearm and dragged you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, to let your guard down, to close your eyes. An urge that has worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together.

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes seated alone in a booth, you gathered up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, headed back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you thought. But you couldn’t help it.

When you entered the room, the door slowly creaked shut, and shadows engulfed you. It was too quiet, and you couldn’t see the man. Unease filled your system, and you began to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off when the captive gripped your torso, roughly caging in your arms. His grip was inescapable, and when you tried to scream, his free hand covered your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmured with disgust. You winced. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackled with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggled against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffled Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears pricked your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carried you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappeared just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You begin to laugh along.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voiced, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's probably playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and he palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him makes you feel his arousal, which causes a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth trails down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to the man who attacked you.

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking open the door, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands then make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus is ogling you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he sighs pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act was.

“There’s only so much I can do to you before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips then press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air leaves your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck. Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

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astrologydayz · 6 months

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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART2

VENUS/EROS IN PISCES/AT 12, 24° = Pisces degree points 2 someone being sexually attracted 2 "lost souls", they want someone who's willing 2 let them be their saviour✨. They could also hold deep thoughts about being saved by a lover themselves, and the idea of "escaping" 2 their "happily ever after". Sex them up with how artistic/poetic u can be. That shit always works. They need someone who's willing 2 show them a kind heart, while also fulfilling their deepest desires/sexual urges.

VENUS/EROS IN SCORPIO/AT 8, 20° = Scorpio degree points 2 someone wanting a lover that's more sexually charged in private, and someone who's willing 2 give up their "thought patterns", as they can be a little "obsessive" with wanting to know everything, or them investigating when they feel the other persons sexual attraction "dying down a little bit"🧯🔥. These people can easily find your weak spots, so they won't disappoint. They need someone who's willing2 give them their soul, as they do the same💀😍.

VENUS/EROS IN LEO/AT 5, 17, 29° = Leo degree points 2 wanting 2 be praised all the time, and a need 2 praise, if the other person does good🐕. They want someone who worships them, puts them on a pedestal👑. They need someone who knows that they're not 2nd place, but always 1st place. They put passion, & sexual attraction/admiration at the top of the list, of things they NEED, 2want to get sexual with somebody. They need platonic, romantic, &sexual flirting from people all around, 2 get that "confidence in", people telling them how fine they look/how sexy they are🌟🌟.

Moira asteroid (638) conjunct 5th house can show fated romances/affairs throughout life, or with one special person💜.

A MAN’S Venus in Leo/1st house is mostly all about themselves in bed, they want 2 get off first and then maybe, if you're lucky, they'll finish u off2. No hate, I just don't fuck with it 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨.

Black Moon Lilith conjunct Vertex in a MAN’S chart shows that he's meant 2 have fated experiences, that puts him out of the "conventional". Like him dating/seeing younger women&getting shit4it, or him being "thrown" into situations where he has 2 "defend himself", because of the women he's in a sexual relationship/romantic relationship with🙄. These fated connections/experiences is what turns him into who he's supposed 2 be - someone who doesn't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion - BML energy🖕🖕💜.

Medusa asteroid (149) conjunct ASC in a WOMAN’S chart will make herself look "tempting", or "available" in front of a man, but as soon as he looks or tries 2 hit on her, she'll degrade him. "U disgusting man, or "u pig"!! "I didn't look at u, or made any attempt 2 flirt with u, whatsoever"😂.

A MAN WITH Venus, Mars and Saturn in Capricorn = Ultimate dom. They'll make you scream their name over, and over again, & won't stop until he made you cum multiple times. He's REALLY sexually experienced, when he reach his older years, like from 30&up.

Lust asteroid : 4386 conjunct Jupiter = crazy sexual needs. Even if they've had crazy sex all night = they can go again the next day, all day😵‍💫😲🤣🤣 Mars in Virgo/8th house in Virgo in a MAN'S chart typically finds "younger people" 2 be way more sexual attractive, than people at their own age. They're attracted 2 the feeling of "feeling young", while being with a young woman/man❤️. They want someone they can have an insane sexual attraction2, while also being able 2 "teach" the other person a lot in the sexual department. Them wanting young/inexperienced women.

Neptune conjunct Black moon Lilith can make you so damn ethereal. Especially if you got Mars or Venus aspecting it 2. people want 2 rip your clothes off but r afraid 2 even say hi 2 u😭😭😭. Afraid you'll reject/embarrass them.

💜💜💜💜 Look at aspects from Venus (the planet of love&attraction), & Mars (the planet of sex), 2c what u like, & what u need sexually💋.

👅👅👅 Mars in Gemini changes their mind a lot when it comes 2 sex. One day they like 2 dominate, & the next they like 2 be submissive. It really comes down to how they feel on that particular day. &it makes sense. Mars (planet of sex&) in Gemini - Duality. A MAN’S Venus/Mars in Leo wants praises from u. They want 2 hear how good they are, and amazing they are in bed. If u don't, they can get bored of u, and seek somebody else - get their "needs" taken care of by another person👀 👀.

If your 8th house ruler is in your 8th house = sex can so transformative for u but you'll probably only hookup with a few people throughout your life tho. Only having sex with people you feel a deep soul connection with.

🍆🍆 A MAN'S Mars/Venus/in 11th house in Aquarius is FREAKYYYYY, they'll try anything with their partner. MOSTLY ON VIDEO/cam🙃🙃🙃 PERIOD.

A WOMAN'S Venus in Pisces/8th/12th house is the "I'll do anything I can 2 satisfy your needs, before my own". I love these placements, they want their partner 2 feel all the pleasure and doesn't even think about their own.

Taurus Mercury/Mars LOVES 2 be neck kissed, damn. Just go wild there and they'll go crazy 4 u, I promise 👄👅. MEN with Mars in Taurus/Taurus in 8th house = attracted 2 women that always looks "beautiful", "sexy, but classy", "ocd around looks", "model looking". They want a gorgeous woman, that can "cater" 2 their most sensual needs 🫦💦. Find some whipped cream/ice cream + your tongue&his body = go loca. If he doesn't go crazy, (u probably have the wrong chart😂🤡). Webb asteroid (3041) conjunct/trine/sextile/quintile BML can indicate doing "Web porn", "only fans", "showing yourself off, in a "sexual, provocative way online"🧯💨🔥.

Mars/Venus in Gemini/3rd house loves using toys! But they especially love2 use their hands&fingers!! They can also love oral👅.

REPOST OF SOME OF MY POSTS FROM MY OLD BLOG/SOME NEW COMMENTS

THANKS4READING💘 Appreciate u, always!

#astro community #astro notes #astrology #black moon lilith #astro observations #astrology notes #asteroids #venus #birth chart #mars astrology

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steddiealltheway · 10 months

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Modern AU stuff is stuck in my head.

Thinking of one where Robin gets a new number and scribbles it down for Steve in a rush because she has a Tinder date with a really cute girl, and she does not have time for Steve to inevitably mistype his phone password several times before finding his contacts app. She rips off the scrap of paper and shoves it at Steve as she rushes to finish her hair and retouch up her mascara.

“Robin, you look great.”

Robin huffs, “I don’t need to look great. I need to look fantastic! You saw the girl! She’s hot, and, for once, I had such a great conversation and we were immediately connecting, you know?”

She rambles on as Steve rolls his eyes and tries to tune her out a bit. It’s not that he isn’t happy for her, it’s just… he’s suffering from a small, embarrassing crush on Dustin’s older friend. And while he knows he could just ask him out like any other person, he finds himself at a loss for words in front of the hyper man. And usually, Steve is more than happy to ramble about random shit and flirt until he has the person practically melting into a puddle of goo at his feet.

All he’s saying is Eddie Munson is different.

And he doesn’t know what to do about it but suffer in silence until their inevitable interactions where he unapologetically shoves his way into his space and calls him little flirtatious nicknames that make Steve’s mind go blank.

Steve has never felt so flustered in his life.

A snap brings him back to reality, and he looks at Robin who does a final spin and asks, “Good?”

Steve looks her over and smiles. “Perfect. Now, go have fun and be safe. I’ll text you to make sure she’s not a serial killer or something.”

“That’s comforting,” Robin says but looks in the mirror one more time before nodding and rushing off yelling, “Bye!”

Steve looks down at the piece of paper in his hand a cringes and the hurried scribbles. Hopefully he’ll be able to decipher it correctly.

He watches through the window, trying not to look too creepy, as Robin climbs into the car with a big smile before it slowly starts moving down the street. Steve feels better once he sees her date is a careful driver.

Steve waits a few more minutes before he makes his way out of the house and goes to his own. Once he gets into his room, he pulls out the piece of paper and types it into his contacts - after messing up the password and struggling to find his contacts.

Steve: So not a serial killer I hope?

There’s instantly some typing back that worries Steve. Shouldn’t Robin be distracted by her date?

Robin: Not a serial killer but you might be… who is this? You intrigue me.

Not Robin. Steve’s heart races as he looks at the scrap of paper. Damn scribbled mess.

Steve: Sorry!! I must’ve typed in the wrong number. Friend is on a first date and was checking in

Not Robin: So sweet of you. Although it makes me nervous that you have no way of contacting your friend and finding out

Steve hadn’t even thought of that. His heart races more. He’s always been one to worry.

Steve: Shit.

Not Robin: Do they have an Instagram that you can message and ask for their number? Not that I mind texting you this lonely Friday night, but it’s probably a good option

He sighs in relief. The stranger is smart and honestly a bit charming. It’s definitely a lonely Friday night for him too. He goes to Instagram and send Robin a quick message before returning to his texts.

Steve: You’re a genius! But what’s a genius doing alone this Friday night?

He stares at the message before sending it. No regrets.

He looks at it for a minute longer as the stranger doesn’t reply. Okay, maybe he has some regrets.

He starts typing out an apology, but a response comes in.

Not Robin: Nothing much really. Debating playing my guitar or staring at my ceiling for a few hours. Both very exciting options. Although I like this new option of texting you more… I will say I’m a 20 year old male though. Don’t want to be texting a minor or some shit.

Steve stares at the message and his heart thuds. 20 year old male. What are the chances?

Steve: 19 year old male here, so you’re in the clear. Unless one of us is lying.

Not Robin: hmm… that makes you sound a bit suspicious but I’ll pinky promise that I’m not lying to you on my end if you’ll do the same

Steve smiles at the message as he types back.

Steve: Pinky promise ❤️

He stares at the heart that’s a little bold, but hey. Why not take a risk?

Not Robin: Looks like my night is getting a lot better

Steve laughs and can’t help but think the same thing.

-:-:-:-:-:-

They text nonstop for the next few days. Steve opens his soul more than he has in years, and the stranger does the same in return. They flirt and exchange jokes and whatnot as well, but Steve always looks forward to when it’s late at night, and the stranger is always up and willing to hear some of his deepest thoughts.

Robin’s worried a bit about the person being some lying creep, but Steve isn’t too worried. He’s given away nothing too personal… except his crush on Eddie Munson.

He hasn’t told the stranger the name of his crush or exactly how he knows him, but in response, the stranger talks about his own hopeless crush on this hot guy who doesn’t really say much to him. They both joke about how they’re hopeless, and Steve almost wonders if he’s falling for the stranger alongside Eddie.

But it’s a crazy thought. The guy could be halfway across the country, but Robin argues that they’re nearby with the way the area codes match.

Steve just shrugs it off and tries not to think too hard about it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Two weeks pass and Steve finds himself giggling in his bed at 2am, trying to fight sleep as the stranger rattles on about some kid he’s friends with that sounds oddly like Dustin. Steve shares his own stories about his Dustin and his annoying habits, but the two of them agree they wouldn’t change a single thing about their friends.

Not Robin: By the way, I’m going to be MIA for a few hours tomorrow. Got this sort of big game coming up.

Steve’s heart drops a bit at the thought. Tomorrow he was going to try to get a pep talk from the stranger before he has to face Eddie after the big final to his Dnd campaign.

Steve: damn. I’ll miss you. I’ll be hyping myself up tomorrow before I see my guy. Think you could give a brief pep talk?

He watches as the stranger types for a while, but is surprised with how short the text ends up being.

Not Robin: Just be yourself. If he can’t see how amazing you are, then he’s not the right guy for you 🖤 goodnight, stranger. Wish me luck as I will be seeing my guy too

Steve stares at the heart and feels his own heart beating fast.

Steve: Good luck :) Same to you 🤍. But hey, try to get his number this time! Goodnight

He feels his stomach kind of flip at the idea.

Not Robin: thank you. I’ll try

Steve hearts the message and puts his phone down. He stares at the ceiling and tries not to think too hard about the jealous feeling in the pit of his stomach as he drifts off.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve is slightly freaking out. He’s about to see Eddie, and he’s decided if his stranger is finally going to get his crush’s number, then he’ll ask Eddie for his. It’ll be fine. It’ll be great.

He stares at the school and waits for Dustin to bust out the doors with Eddie trailing behind him. Steve nervously pulls out his phone.

Steve: About to see my guy and I’m freaking tf out! Miss you :( you always know what to say

He sees his stranger typing and his heart races.

Not Robin: Weird, I’m about to see mine too. But I’m gonna ask him for his number!! I’m determined. But hey, I’ve miss you too :( game just ended by the way

Not even seconds later, the doors to the school open, and Steve watches as Eddie comes out behind Dustin looking at his phone before turning it off and pocketing it. Steve’s heart races.

“Steve! Eddie’s campaign was incredible! I almost died twice, but Will ended up saving all our asses when he rolled a nat twenty during our final battle! It was so cool!” Dustin says running up to Steve.

He laughs and nods not totally understanding what he’s saying. But he sees Eddie come closer out of the corner of his eye. Okay. Get his number. Easy enough. He can do it. His stranger believes in him.

“Okay, you can tell me all about it on the way home. Just give me a minute here,” Steve says patting Dustin on the shoulder as he approaches Eddie for once. He feels like he might pass out.

“Hey,” Eddie says with a big smile.

“Hey yourself. Heard that it was a good game,” Steve says, trying not to do a little dance at how he’s able to get a full sentence out.

It seems to also surprise Eddie who has a blush rise to his face. “I was hoping it would be. Um…” he trails off and kicks a rock on the ground. “So, I was uh. Wondering if…” he takes a deep breath and looks at Steve. “Wondering if I could get your number? In case… you know… something happens with Dustin or something. I don’t know,” Eddie rambles out and pulls a piece of hair in front of his face.

Steve digs out his phone with a big smile. “How about I get yours?”

Eddie smiles and his hands drop down to fidget with his rings as he rattles out his number. Steve goes to his messages and types it in, only it shows the number appear as Not Robin.

Steve shakes his head and deletes the number. Surely he did something wrong. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Eddie nods and repeats his number slower. It pops up again. Not Robin.

Steve’s heart thuds. “Uh…” he says and then carefully repeats the number back.

Eddie smiles and nods.

Steve swallows. Shit shit. Holy shit. Not Robin is Eddie. He’s been talking to Eddie this whole time and bearing his soul and talking about him to him. Holy shit what is life?

“Hey, Steve, you okay?” Eddie asks, concerned written all over his face when Steve glances up.

Steve stares and nods. “Um… just… you’re really not going to believe this.”

Eddie’s brows furrow. “Believe what?”

Steve takes a deep breath and types out a message to Not Robin.

Steve: Hey Eddie :)

Eddie’s phone dings and he looks at the message before doing a double take at it. His jaw drops. “You’re…”

“Yeah,” Steve replies.

Eddie nods looking like he’s half on the verge of panicking. “And your guy is…”

“You,” Steve admits then his heart races. “And your guy?”

“You,” Eddie says as his tongue comes up to worry his top lip.

Steve lets out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank god. I’ve been falling for both of you this whole time.”

“Me too,” Eddie says with a laugh. He holds Steve’s gaze. “So… what do we do from here…”

Steve scratches his cheek and shrugs. “Well, I say we take a night to connect the dots about everything and then go on a date tomorrow? Eight o’clock? I’ll text you details tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie says with a big grin. Steve nods and starts to walk back to his car where he feels like he’s about to have a full happy breakdown. “Steve?” Eddie calls out.

Steve turns around and looks at him.

“The buttheads we’ve been talking about are Dustin, right?”

Steve laughs and can’t help it as he walks back to Eddie throwing his arms around him in a hug. “God, I missed you tonight.”

Eddie squeezes him back, “I missed you, too.” They pull away but stay close. “This is going to take a bit of getting used to. Both my dreams guys are you.”

“Same here. Shit.” Steve takes a moment to look into Eddie’s eyes. “I really want to kiss you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Eddie says leaning in.

The car horn beeps loudly causing them to both jump back. “Listen!” Dustin yells leaning out the window, “I don’t know what the fuck I missed, but I would appreciate it if you filled me in on the way home before my mom starts freaking out!”

Steve sighs and drops his head to Eddie’s chest. “What a butthead.”

Eddie laughs and hugs him again. “Tomorrow,” he says like a promise.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says pulling away and raising up his pinky towards Eddie. He smiles down at it and links his pinky with his.

The car horn goes off again.

“Alright alright! I’m coming!” Steve yells over his shoulder then gives Eddie one last pinky squeeze before walking away.

This is going to be a long car ride, but Steve doesn’t mind at all.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

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