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#this really matters to me and i could be totally wrong about all of it
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Cristabel and the proverbial sandwich
(Spoilers for Harrow and Nona the Ninth)
I have not known inner peace since I saw someone say, "But come on, does anyone ACTUALLY buy John's story about how the nun died?"
Because honestly, I'd just kind of gone, "Super random, very weird interaction, boy there sure are cult mindworms at play here," and moved on to the next page.
But as soon as I saw that question asked, the amount I did not buy that story hit me like a load of bricks, to the point I'm kind of amazed that I ever did believe it.
Two people. A locked door. A nuclear standoff. A close-range head injury.
On one side, a full-fledged Catholic nun—well done, that’s the classic—who's best friends with a staunchly atheist world-class scientist and believes, if we're to believe John, that Jesus's problem is that he didn't stick to office hours.
On the other, a woman described as, "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you’d ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain."
Oh, and in the middle, there's also a necromancer who wants to bring back his friends... minus any little details about things he they might have done wrong. He "knows where memory lives in the brain", and they "won't have any of it." And "guys as careful as me don't make mistakes," but then again, all that means is that if he kills someone, he did it on purpose.
C— talks her way into a locked room with John, who's on the phone threatening some world leaders with a nuke, expresses care and concern for him, and then... decides he needs more data on the soul? And kills herself to provide that for him?
I'll be honest, I just don't believe that John was an ordinary guy, totally normal, could be any of us, and he just got put in a really stressful situation and made some bad choices but who HASN'T done things they aren't proud of??? I reject that point of view completely. Like, Elon Musk in any given interaction probably is really stressed out and unhappy and having trouble responding in a way that's at all well-considered or emotionally mature, but that doesn't mean that Musk isn't also, at baseline, a deeply stupid, petty, immature, grandiose, entitled, egocentric person. No matter what situation you put him in, he's going to keep on being those things.
I think that John's initial idea was to put the entire human population of Earth, minus some necessary staff, into some giant cryonic freezers, and give the Earth some amount of time to rest and recover from the effects of human-caused pollution. A plan about which I will confess some hesitation myself; being told "just lie down in this coffin, bro, you'll only be a little dead, I'll totally bring you back to life* in a couple centuries (*98% effective!) " does not fill me with an enthusiasm to hop on board.
And then his project got cut. And he decided, "Well, if they won't agree, I can just make them agree." After all, all that end game needs is 10 billion frozen corpses hanging out in those tin cans, and a small team of staff left to keep the place running. How it gets there is something he can afford to be flexible about. If people won't climb in on their own, he can put them there.
So when C— or the nun tell him to stop focusing on revenge, to bend all his energies to saving the world, I think he thinks: Well, I am. He's gonna wash the earth clean at the end of this! He just needs to be able to set the dominoes in motion. He just needs to engineer a situation that will justify taking his nuke out of the vault and making the pieces fall.
A situation that would be sabotaged, ruined, if anyone made a true deep sincere good-faith effort to talk him out of Plan Nuke and called the legitimacy of this crisis into any sort of question. He needs to prevent that from happening.
Actually. Also. He needs one more thing than that.
He needs an excuse to use the nuke, but also, he's finishing his homework at the very last minute. He still hasn't mastered the soul. He does need a few more test subjects.
Maybe he let her in and thought: Two birds with one stone, eh?
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haetrack · 23 hours
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mark couldn’t help it. he couldn’t help but to place his hand over his pants, palming himself when the only thing racing through his mind was how pretty u looked today, ordering a coffee from the cafe that he worked at. he thinks about how u pursed ur lips, reading the menu in concentration, the way ur chest heaved up and down when u came running into the store, escaping the rain. a groan catches in his throat, knowing that this was so wrong, getting off to someone he’s never even talked to, but oh god did it feel so right when his hands slipped past his waistband, fingers curling around himself. the outline of his hardening dick was too prominent thanks to the plaid pyjama pants he wore. he bit his lip, inhaling deep breaths as his hand started stroking himself. he remembers the spark he felt when ur hands brushed his as u handed him ur credit cared, he imagined it was ur hands that were rubbing against his skin right now, ur hands that were playing with the warm pre-cum that was dripping out of his swollen tip. the little voice in the back of his head was still telling him that it wasn’t too late to stop, but all he could hear was how silky smooth ur voice was ordering a drink, he wished he could listen to all the pretty sounds u would make if he was buried inside u. his pace quickens at this fantasy, imagining that he was fucking u right now, not his right hand. groaning at the thought of how good he would feel surrounded by ur warmth, his hips thrusting up into his fist harder and faster. his grip tightens when he remembers how ur white tshirt had gone slightly see through from the rain, how he must’ve been the only one who had the honour to see the traces of ur blue lace bra before u threw a crewneck on top. he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that u were wearing his favourite colour. his deep breathing now morphing into shallow whines with how long the pleasure has been building up inside. it’s the thought of ur pure, innocent smile that pushes him over the edge. the orgasm causing a string of swears being grunted out. his hips sputtering at the thought of cumming all over ur sweet face. his hands continue stroking, milking himself for everything he has. the clarity starts to settle and shame creeps over him at that fact that he really did just get off to a total stranger. but the shame didn’t last long when he discovers that none of his cum spilled and he doesn’t have to change his sheets, grateful for the fact that he was so horny, he didn’t even bother to take off his pants.
ngl smoothie dance practice mark has me in such a chokehold i had three other scenarios i started writing for him but they were all getting SO long i had to stop myself 🧍‍♂️ mark pls hmu i want u so bad 🙏
- 🌱
GODDDDD WHY MEEEE... perv mark who doesn't even realize he's being a little perv... i need him. 🌱 anon get in line bc i need him FIRST!!!!!
he would tell himself it wouldn't matter that he got off to you. it was probably just a one time thing that you came to the coffee shop he worked at. if he doesn't have to see you, it doesn't matter that he came in his pants because he'll probably never see you again anyways.
except, there you are again, pretty smile on your face as you enter the cafe. you're not drenched this time, but you are wearing a low-cut top. you're quick to order this time, same order as last time. mark tries so hard not to stare too hard at your chest, but when you hand him your card, he takes a moment too long to grab it, too busy staring at you. you clear your throat, and you're met with a sheepish look as his face turns red.
he's trying hard not to mess up your order, hands fumbling all around in embarrassment. he's also trying very hard not get a boner at his job where quite literally anyone can see him. when he calls out your order, he swears that your hand lingers on his for a while, and he swears it's on purpose. he watches you walk away, saying goodbye to him as you go about your day.
he waves goodbye to you. although he said it was a one time thing, he might just have to fuck his fist again tonight because of you.
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lazorbeanz · 3 days
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Late Night
Unbreakable Bond
Headcanons and indirect quotes :p #4
🔶 Tails: You ready for tomorrow’s history test?
Sonic: Yea
Tails: What ended in 1896?
Sonic: 1895
Tails: Yea you ready…
🔷 Tails: So, who did ya learn about today?
Sonic: Errr some guy called ‘Martha Luker King Jr.’
Tails: *tryna hold it together* u-uhm okay…and what did he do?
Sonic: *with all confidence* He died for our sins…
Tails: Wait no that’s- *wheeze*
🔶 Sonic singing along the Chorus of Speed Life (he doesn’t know French): 🎶“Something something speed life…SOMEBODY’S WATCHING MEEEEEE”🎶
🔷 Sonic and Tails have this challenge they do at karaoke nights where they attempt to sing a song that’s not in English, which really just ends up as a big laughing fest as they fail miserably. Sonic tries to make up for it by dancing to the music (cuz mind you, it’s catchy) but his legs turn into spaghetti from his fit, and faceplants onto the floor. Tails attempts to help him up but his knees do a funny and falls on top of him, leaving the brothers immobile and gasping for air.
🔶 Sonic: is the pink panther a lion?
Tails: say that again but slower
Sonic: I don’t get??
Tails: he’s the pink PANTHER
Sonic: okay?? But is he a lion?
Tails: 🤦..*grabs the landline phone* hello is this the brain replacement store-
🔷 The brothers have a war going on in their Snapchat stories, where they would steal awkward pics of each other…whether that’s Sonic eating a really messy chilidog or tails after an experiment gone horribly wrong, with the caption being like ‘look at this loser lol’ or something meme related…yes they turn each other into memes
🔶 Sonic would randomly decide to attach tails to a lead every now and then to see his reaction, which at first was pretty vicious, but now he’s just like “rlly bro? -_-” but either one would send Sonic in hysterics
🔷 Tails: hey Sonic, what word starts with “f” and ends with “u c k?”
Sonic: Fu- WAIT TAILS NO-
Tails: it’s firetruck! 😊 uhh sonic?
*cue sonic getting carted away in an ambulance…i think he stopped breathing*
🔶 Since Sonic doesn’t give a toss, tails would somewhat keep an eye out on his brother’s quill care (you could say Amy has talked to Tails about the matter) so after heaps of reasoning and the last resort - the cute fox eyes, Sonic reluctantly gives in to letting his younger brother brush his quills for the first time. It’d go down something like this…
Tails: one~
Sonic: ow-
Tails: two~
Sonic: OWWW…how many of these (brush strokes) do we have to do?!
Tails: like a thousand or something…thre-
Sonic: AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEE!!!!🦅🦅🦅
ANOTHER LIFE IN THE DREAMHOUSE REFERENCE IM SORRY IM SORRY-
🔷 Tails was so sleep deprived that he almost mistook liquid petroleum for coffee one morning (somehow)
🔶 Tails loves planes…in all forms…and THAT INCLUDES the one used to be fed…
Sonic: Tails, you are 8 years old, with an IQ of about 300…and you still want me to do…this?
Tails: b-but…aeroplaneee 🥺
Happy wholesome Wednesday!
Whilst you’re here, we have an Unbreakable Bond Discord server out for all you folks who love the brothers just as much as us! 💙💛 It’s a totally chill place where we can chat, share art or fics, and most importantly, hyperfixate over that hog and fox duo we love so much! (There’s even a place for boops!)
Created by @suzienightsky ✨ If you’re keen on joining, flick her a DM and she’ll give you an invite.
Sorry for the ad lmao
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utilitycaster · 15 hours
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@rowzeoli replied to your post “@rowzeoli replied to your post “Do you think part...”:
There's a lot to tackle on this so I'll do my best to cover it all! So I totally get where you're coming from and to be fair yes there are some things in old articles that I don't agree with any more in deeming people having done things "first" which is part of the issue of not having a collective historical memory around actual play as it moves so quickly. Most of the issue isn't that readership is down it's that AI and venture capitalism is destroying journalism
Hey, sorry for taking a bit to respond; it's been a hectic week and I wanted to give it some thought and time.
I'll start off with the good: I really do, again, appreciate you engaging here, and on the strength of that alone I am going to at least give Rascal's free articles a good solid chance for a while; I have been, admittedly, tarring it with the brush of a lot of frustrations (see below) and I know it's relatively new and still finding its place and should get a bit more of my patience. I also should note that while your article did hit on a lot of the patterns that have turned me - and no small amount of others - off of a lot of AP/TTRPG journalism it is by no means the worst example. The things you credited Burrow's End for are, admittedly, more obscure single-episode events within a huge body of work. Or in other words: there are bylines in the space that make me go "oh this is going to be bad" and yours is not one of them.
With that said: I'm sorry, but Polygon's bias is not a matter of time crunch or lack of funding. There is no way that a time crunch or lack of funding would consistently, over years (this was already word on the street at latest when EXU Calamity came out almost 2 years ago) result in a message of "D20 can do no wrong, and Critical Role rarely does right." If it were throwing out harsh criticism or glowing praise for a wide variety of shows, sure, that seems like it could come from not having a lot of time...but this goes beyond coincidence. It's a reputation that long precedes your entry into the field. As some others in the replies have noted, I might have written the most about it on Tumblr, but it's at this point not an uncommon observation. This also isn't an issue for other publications in a similar "nerd stuff" space - there's plenty of articles on, say, Dicebreaker or Comicbook.com that I don't care for, either because I disagree with the opinion or I think the analysis isn't really worthwhile, but those tend to at least have a mix of positive and critical articles about most shows. When I said you could treat Polygon articles like Madlibs, I meant it. And so I think it's great that you are no longer chasing "groundbreaking", for example, is not a solid ground for an article, but this also is showing me that even relatively new journalists are, very early on, starting with this exact formula. In some ways, that's more damning.
I do also want to add that I'm again, sympathetic to the lack of resources and to coming into a field with passionate and nitpicky fans who have been here for years. Not knowing about a single Critical Role one-shot from 2018 is something that I'd have been much more lenient about if it weren't hitting those repetitive notes of "D20 is great/this thing is groundbreaking/look at the production values." But the other article I posted, also from Polygon but not written by you, is, to be honest, pretty inexcusable. I get there's a lot of lost institutional memory...but either being unaware of, or ignoring the fact that there are a huge number of long-running actual play podcasts that play longform campaigns? That's pretty much on par, in terms of whether your audience trusts you, of the New York Times international news desk not being able to locate Russia on a map (though obviously with far less serious real-world ramifications). (The fact that this was written by a prominent actual play scholar meanwhile is like, I don't know, Neil DeGrasse Tyson not knowing how gravity works, but that's a separate topic).
And again, I get these are your colleagues. I have the luxury of being able to run my mouth without putting my livelihood at stake, and that's not true for people within the industry. I do not expect you to say anything ill about them, nor would I judge any specific individual for getting published in Polygon since I get that people are pitching to a number of sites so that they can get paid! But when I say "Polygon's AP/TTRPG coverage is at needs-a-change-of-leadership levels of bad" I am not alone in this, and it's something that has probably been true for easily 3+ years if not longer. Because it's one of the more prominent publications in the space (ironically, due to Justin McElroy of TAZ being a founder, and the fact that its videogame division is quite good and has had some viral videos, it had enviable name recognition among AP fans that it's only squandered since) it really is at a point where hitting that same formula in any AP journalism - claiming everything is groundbreaking, putting an emphasis on high production values, D20 good and CR bad - makes fans go "oh, more of this bullshit." I don't want to say you can't talk about these things - I definitely do not want to say that you cannot criticize Critical Role - but that specific well is has been poisoned for a long time. If someone hits these points it feels, whether or not it is true, that they're trying to be provocative by going against popular fan opinion, but are simultaneously just saying the same thing we've seen a million times before.
I believe wholeheartedly that from your perspective the competition is AI - and I don't want AI articles either. On the other hand, in terms of what I think fans who are in my position are turning to, it's not AI articles (I'm certainly not). If I want analysis, I'm probably, at this point, going to social media; I am not the only person who writes longform meta or analysis for fun, and I'll seek others who do out. I'm not personally a video essay person, but plenty are, and that's out there too. I'm not going there for reporting on news (I think the Dnd Shorts OGL debacle made it clear that actual journalists are very necessary) but yeah, if I want criticism or analysis? I'm going there instead, especially since there often is that missing institutional memory. If I do want journalism, at this point, some of the bigger shows are getting writeups in less niche publications, particularly Critical Role and D20, as is news of more major tabletop games. It's infrequent and it doesn't highlight indie works, but it tends to be, if nothing else, lacking in major errors or obvious bias. If I want to hear from cast members, at least four of the shows I watch or listen to have regular talkback shows, and Dropout regularly talks to AP/TTRPG figures on Adventuring Academy, and a lot of those shows take viewer questions. Which, again, probably not heartening to hear the competition is even tighter, but I guess my point is I hope it's possible, even with very limited resources, to move away from the above "novelty and production values above all" pattern because even that would do a lot of needed work to rebuild reader trust - and I'm going to be checking out Rascal in the hopes that it can.
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fxllfaiiry · 10 months
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❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me
★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.
★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.
★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet
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Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.
You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 
He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 
Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 
“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 
“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 
“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 
“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully
“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 
“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 
This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 
He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.
He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.
He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 
Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 
He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.
Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 
In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.
He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.
But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 
He slept like a baby that night. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 
“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 
“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 
“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 
He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  
Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 
“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 
“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”
“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 
“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”
“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 
You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.
“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 
“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 
“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 
You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  
“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 
You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 
Positive. You were pregnant. 
“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 
“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 
“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 
“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 
“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 
“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 
“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.
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romantichomicide95 · 5 months
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⋆̩MEGUMI FUSHIGURO | no nut november
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wk-> 2.3k
summary: megs tries to do no nut november, does not last a month. sort of has multiple parts.
warnings: nsfw. 18+. oral (f!receving), p in v sex, fem!bodied reader, agedup! to 20, domestic vibes.
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"I'm just saying Gumi, I don't think you can do it." You say as you look at him across the table. He's engrossed in his book, holding a fork in his other hand, and seems unbothered by the topic of conversation - No Nut November.
Yuji was the one that brought it up of course, said they should have a little competition. Megumi, of course, told him he was an idiot. Then when he brought it up to you, you dared to tell him you didn’t think he could do it.
He rolls his eyes, dismissing the idea as foolish. Games like that are stupid, he thinks, and only idiots partake in such childish behavior. Idiots like Yuji. First of all, he could totally last a whole month if he wanted, it's not a big deal. But why would he? There's no reward at the end, no gold medal that says 'good job for not getting off'.
Megumi looks up from his book, his blue eyes scanning over your features. He raises an eyebrow as if to scoff at the very idea. "Why would I want to participate in something so... juvenile?"
You chuckle, shaking your head and playfully nudge his shoulder from across the table. "You're missing the point, Gumi. It's not about the challenge itself, it's just about proving that you can do it. It’s all in good fun.”
Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes before putting his attention back to his book. "I'll pass on this one, thanks. I've got better things to do than worry about my... self-control."
“I mean…if you don’t think you can do it then just say that Megumi. It’s okay…I couldn’t resist me either.” You tease. If anything you know your boyfriend. He may be quiet, reserved, kind of a typical broody boy, but he often found himself unable to resist the need in his pants whenever you touched him the right way or kissed him in that spot that drove him crazy.
He looks up at you, closing his book and giving you his full attention. You’re wrong, he can do it. It’s really not that big of a deal. Besides, it’s not like you’re fucking irresistible. Okay, maybe he’s fooling himself with that one…but still, he likes to think of himself as having full control over such things. He can last a month, it’ll fly by anyway.
“Whatever, fine I’ll do it. Just so I can prove you wrong. But don’t come begging me when you get all worked up.”
—————
It’s been one week. One entire week where Megumi hasn’t touched you, or even tried to touch you. You weren’t exactly sure how he was doing it, but it was starting to drive you crazy. You tried taking care of yourself. But with every brush of your fingers against your needy clit the ache for his touch seemed to grow.
Frustrated, and to be quite frank extremely fucking horny, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You wait until he comes back from a mission one night. He’s exhausted, maybe too exhausted to remember the challenge. As you both sit on the couch, you can't help but notice how tired and drained he looks.
You decide to make your move, leaning in close and whispering seductively in his ear, "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately.” You say, running a finger under his shirt and tracing his abs. “I bet I could help you relieve some of that tension."
Megumi's eyes flicker open. He swallows hard, his breath hitching slightly as you continue to trace your finger over his toned body. "I... I don't know if that's a good idea right now," he says, you can hear the need in his voice as he darts his eyes away from your gaze.
You smirk, leaning in closer. "Why not? I can make you feel good Gumi." Your voice has a sultry tone to it, the one that you always use when you want his reserve to crumble.
He sucks in a breathe, adjusting his pants before inching himself slightly away from you. This is harder than he thought, but than he remembers you’re teasing from last week and the stubbornness in him takes over. "I'm committed to the dumb challenge that you, by the way egged me on to do.”
You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You were so sure that your seduction would work. Usually it doesn’t take long but it seems Megumi is more determined than you thought. With a sigh, you pull away from him, standing up and adjusting your clothes. "Fine. Have fun with your challenge," you mutter, walking away in frustration.
—————
Two and a half weeks, on the dot. That’s exactly how long it’s been since your boyfriend has touched you. At this point you’d completely given up on your seduction. You’d tried every trick in the book. Straddling his lap, kissing the spot behind his ear that drives him crazy…you even asked him for a massage which led to…well him just giving you a massage.
It actually had you confused. Surely he’s been horny? You knew he was pretty good at self-control when it came to pretty much every aspect of his life. But sex? I mean he’s not some ravaged sex maniac, like his best friend who lasted all of one day in the challenge, but he’s got a pretty high sex drive given his reserved demeanor. You actually had a pretty active and, if you did say so, amazing sex life. So for him to go this long without even so much as a word? It wasn’t making any sense.
So, here you were, given up on trying at all. Instead you were preparing for a movie night. Clad in his t-shirt and only a pair of pretty pink panties given the heat wave going through your city. You were standing in the kitchen now, waiting for the popcorn to pop and unbeknownst to you Megumi’s eyes hadn’t left your body.
He thinks you did this on purpose, sure it’s hot out but you know how much he loves the way those panties hug your ass cheeks. How crazy he goes when you wear his t-shirt with no bra underneath. It always gave just enough of a peek at your perky nipples and the thought of rolling one of those perfect little buds on his tongue has his cock straining against his pants.
Yeah, you must have done this on purpose. Prancing around, showing off that sexy body of yours. You keep reaching for things in the cupboard and then his shirt lifts up ever so slightly, revealing the curve of your hips. God, it’s driving him crazy. You’d been driving him crazy all week, everything you did was in some way absolutely and utterly sexy. The way you ran your hands in his hair as he lays on your chest, tired from a long mission. The way you pout your lips when you tease him, or rub your ass against his body as you cuddle at night. And of course the fact that no matter what you do you always looked so utterly breathtaking that it drove him mad. Every single thing had made him want to forget this stupid challenge and plunge his cock into the lush walls of your pussy.
As the popcorn finally starts to pop, filling the room with its delicious aroma, Megumi can't control himself anymore. He slowly gets up from the couch. You hear his slow footsteps behind you but before you can react he wraps his arms around you from behind, his body pressing against yours. His hands rest on your waist, his fingers just barely brushing the sides of your panties. His thumb rubs slowly against the skin of your thigh and the subtle touch alone sends shivers through you.
You can feel the hardness of his erection against your back. Megumi leans in close, his breath warm against your neck. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his lips to the space between your shoulder and your collarbone. “You’re making this so hard...” He says, his voice hoarse like he’s trying hard to control himself.
You turn to face him. His hands don’t leave your sides as you look up at him. “Making what hard?”
“Not touching you, when you walk around looking like…this.” His eyes trail down your body, before he leans down brushing his lips against yours.
“Than touch me.” you whisper as you connect your lips with his. It’s not like you haven’t kissed this whole time, but something about his kisses now are primal, hungry…like he’s kissing you for first time. And you’re elated, you’d wanted him so bad…needed him.
He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping your hips. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling with yours as he lifts you up. You can feel the growing heat of his body against yours. His erection clearly evident through his pants. "I want you." he whispers between kisses.
He carrys you back to the couch, laying you on your back, one arm on either side of your body holding himself up. He looks at you, as if he’s soaking you in before he leans down to kiss you again. He pulls his t-shirt off of you over your head, leaning down to kiss from your collarbone down to your chest, before he takes a bud in between his lips, his tongue darting around it causing a moan to escape you. It’s just as he remembers, hard bud against his tongue. The feeling always making you so wet for him.
His lips then begin to trail down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into them, pulling them down from your body. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he continues his descent. “Stay still.” He says.
He pushes your legs apart, his tongue tracing along your folds. You reach down, lacing your fingers in his hair, giving him the initiative to push forward. Using his tongue, he goes in deeper, teasing you before dipping in fully to lap away at your sex. His tongue works the magic only Megumi’s tongue seems to have, circling around your clit in short, sharp flicks, dipping down into you then flickering back out. His mind goes a bit wild as he tastes your juices against his tongue and lips, it drives him almost as crazy as it drives you.
“Fuck-you sound so pretty.” Megumi’s cock throbs in his pants listening to the whimpers and moans only he can pull out of you. It’s been so long since he’s tasted you, smelled you, had your hands in his hair eagerly egging him on. His cock strains against his pants and he grinds against the couch, chasing any sort of friction as he pulls orgasm out of you. You grip his hair as you cum, with one moan of his name and he wastes no time licking up your juices. He savors the taste, two weeks away and he’s practically feral just from the sweet nectar. Then he’s back hovering over you again.
His lips meet yours, the sweet taste of your juices still lingering on his tongue. He kisses down your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. He stops momentarily to discard of his shirt before his lips are on yours again. He teases your clit with a finger, then another, coating them with your slick.
He can’t take it anymore, not when your soft whimpers are singing directly in his ear. Not with the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, he’s so desperate for you to clench around his cock you don’t even notice how quick he is taking his pants off until you realize the tip of his dick is softly rubbing against your clit.
It’s just the tip and you’re already moaning, fuck you missed his cock and the way it so deliciously filled you up. Your moans egg him on, he closes his eyes momentarily as he pushes in slowly, a low grunt leaving his lips as he feels your pussy clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse. His thrusts become faster and harder as he loses himself in the sensation of your walls around him, nails lightly digging into his shoulders.
His cock slides in and out of your wet heat, the room filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy milking his cock. He grips your hips, lifting them slightly off the bed so your back is arched as he drives his cock deeper and faster his hips moving rapidly against yours.
You reach out for him and he laces a hand with yours, your back falling back down to the bed as your fingers lace together. He looks at you for a second, drinking in the sight of your beautiful naked body below him.
He leans down and kisses you rough. “Don’t think I can last much longer.” He says, his face buried in your neck. You squeeze his hand as a sign that’s it’s okay and somehow the tenderness of your touch pushes him to the edge. “I’m….” he can’t even say the words before his cock twitches inside you. His cum filling you up. He grunts one last time, his face still buried in your neck.
He doesn’t move for a second, collapsing on top of you. He just wraps his arms around your body, holding you close before he moves to kiss you on the forehead.
A smile plays on your lips and you brush a sweat piece of raven hair from his pretty blue eyes. “I knew you couldn’t last the whole month.” You say with a light giggle.
He falls back down on top of you, burying his face in your neck once more and groaning. “Shut up.”
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tagging: @withthegraceofthewind @belfiguevel @chilichopsticks @nobody289x @rlvsmegumi @cassiefromhell @yihona-san06 @thebigcheez
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sp0o0kylights · 3 months
Text
Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 
It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 
He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 
They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 
(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 
Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 
Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 
Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 
Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 
Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.
He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 
It's flash. Showmanship. 
It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 
So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?
 Eddie panics. 
His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 
He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 
Not when it comes to running, anyway. 
Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 
The urge is still there. 
To run, and save face the cowards way. 
Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 
(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)
A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 
Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 
One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…
Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 
Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 
Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 
For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 
It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 
He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.
“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 
“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 
They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  
“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 
Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 
“Oh!”
Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 
“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 
Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 
“You know what Star Trek is?”
“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 
 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.
 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”
Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 
He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 
Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?
Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 
“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 
He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 
“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 
“You like it?” Eddie asks. 
“Mmm.” 
“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 
Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 
“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 
Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 
“I know. Wait, how do you--” 
And well. It’s now or never. 
“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.
“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?
(It does not.)
“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 
Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.
Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 
Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 
There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.
 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 
They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.
This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 
‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--
Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 
Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 
He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 
Steve looks at him. 
“What?” 
“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 
“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 
He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 
Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 
“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 
“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.
Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 
“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 
“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 
The zine he keeps in his hands. 
Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 
“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 
Which is news to Eddie. 
“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 
Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 
“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 
Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 
“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 
“You did! Robin told you!” 
“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  
“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  
“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 
They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 
“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 
“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 
“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 
Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 
“That’d be cool.” 
(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 
“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 
“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 
“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 
“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.
Oh.
Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 
At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 
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peachypinkygloss · 8 months
Text
call me soon — jjk
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Jungkook finds himself obsessing over you a bit too much than he'd like to admit, but you two get a chance to see more of each other during a hot summer night where you both are lonely, desperate and horny.
☾ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
☾ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut
☾ word count: 5.9k
☾ warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of driving under the influence of alcohol (jk had one beer okay 🙄 no car crash lol), hello tae and oh — jimin?, hurt and comfort 🧐, mentions of masturbation (m), dry humping, clit stimulation, tits play, praising, unprotected sex & oral sex, blowjob, cum eating, cum play, multiple orgasms, brief overstimulation.
a.n.: i tried something and i think i like it 😼 put y'all seatbelts on because this is the best smut i've ever written 🫡 *no taglist!!
Jungkook knits his eyebrows together, deeply lost in his thoughts. At this point, the music blasting through the house doesn't make his body shake anymore, it doesn't make his heart beat faster nor does it make adrenaline rush through his veins.
He feels the vibrations under his feet, though. It's intense, but not enough to distract him. The pad of his index finger mindlessly circles the neck of the beer bottle he's holding, his other hand shoved in the pocket of his baggy jeans.
His friend's elbow sometimes nudges him in the ribs because of how animated he is when talking, but he doesn't make Jungkook turn his head nonetheless. He hears him laugh and curse while he looks away, gaze lost in the crowd of people, eyes shifting between all the faces without a thought about them.
He's too busy thinking about yesterday, that cursed night where he just wanted to fill up his gas tank and unluckily fell upon you at the gas station.
He thinks he never looked at his phone so many times in a day before, never thought a stupid call would turn him crazy, obsessively scrolling through his contact list to find your name.
Every time the day ended, he worried that maybe you had deleted his number, but your name has always been there. A part of him hoped you would have deleted him from your phone. It would have explained why you never called and then perhaps he would have felt less crazy.
But no. You just didn't bother pressing on his name and sticking your cellphone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up as you listened to his ringtone.
And that's quite a bit worse than being erased from your contact list because that means you just didn't think about him. Not once were your thoughts about Jungkook.
He could be wrong, but he prefers to torture himself.
Anyway, it's not like you were much bothered by the fact that you totally ghosted him back at the convenience store. 'I forgot', how horrible that sounds?
But then, all he wanted to do at this moment was to forgive you, tell you that it doesn't matter, that he doesn't really care, that it's no biggie. He can't blame you and that's so fucking stupid because all he did was eat you out.
Yet he finds himself thinking about you more than he'd like to. He even jerked himself off to you, playing back in his head the moment you were whimpering his name and pulling on his hair, clenching your thighs around him. He's not super proud of that — kind of cringes him a little bit when he thinks about it — but he got really hard imagining your pussy leaking down his knuckles.
You were a good hook-up and yes, he thought it could happen again. He hoped you two would do it a second time, maybe a third — how many you'd like to.
He likes sex and his obsession for you started because of that, but he would lie if he said hanging out with you like friends doesn't sound good to him. It sounds so fucking... nice.
In the end, he knows you two as friends wouldn't work. He works for your dad to pay his scholarship that is incredibly expensive even for a public university.
You, you don't need that. You don't need to work, don't have to lift a finger. You're treated like a princess — have the life of a princess — and you might even think of yourself as a princess too. Fuck him for liking it. Fuck him for fantasizing about possibly being your knight.
"This party fucking sucks."
Jungkook's eyes finally focus on something else than the void, laying on his best friend Taehyung. He doesn't know where he comes from, he only remembers him leaving the kitchen area when everyone was in the depth of a conversation.
"Why's that?" He asks instead of agreeing, knowing he can't really complain when he hasn't been in the mood to party at all.
Taehyung leans his back against the counter beside Jungkook, taking a sip of his soon empty beer bottle. "It just fucking sucks," he shrugs, a scowl on his face as if it's a justifiable reason. It might be because Taehyung's not so difficult to entertain.
It might be because of something else, Jungkook believes, though he doesn't have the heart to ask. He'll do it another time when he won't smell like rejection and when his head won't be filled with a woman's giggles who's out of his league.
So he only hums in agreement, silence installing between him and Taehyung.
A couple of minutes pass, Taehyung has opened another bottle and Jungkook is still quiet. Usually, he doesn't mind slipping in conversations, sharing his own perspective of things. He rarely says no to games, bringing his competitive ass over and crushing everyone's chances of winning.
Today isn't usual, that's why it fucking sucks.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Jungkook says to Taehyung and this one nods.
"I'll probably head home soon anyway."
"Be sure to take an Uber."
"Of course, you know me," he chuckles, waving Jungkook goodbye.
His friend does the same, a slight smile painted on his face as he walks to the front door, opening it and stepping out of the house.
His eyes get used to the darkness as he closes the door behind him. He notices someone sitting on the stairs, typing quickly on the keyboard of their cellphone. He approaches the figure, hearing them sniffing as if they've been crying.
They suddenly drop their phone, muttering a 'fuck' as the device lays on the ground. Jungkook decides to go reach for it so he walks down the stairs and bends to catch it, turning around to hand it to the owner.
"Here." He looks at the person's face and his heart jumps in his chest when he recognizes you. He doesn't know where to look for a second, his eyes shifting down to the screen of your phone.
He catches a glimpse of a conversation with a certain 'Jimin' and immediately looks away, feeling guilty for not minding his business.
You thank him in a tired voice, taking back your iPhone. He stands there uselessly as you seemingly give up on your previous message, turning off your phone's screen with a defeated sigh.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, taking a seat beside you on the stairs.
As you wipe your tears away with the tips of your fingers, he wonders who could have hurt a princess like you. Princesses shouldn't cry. They should be covered in diamonds, not have pearls falling down from their eyes.
He wouldn't have let something like this happen as your knight. He knows for a fact that he would have protected you, and he thinks that whomever is pretending to be your knight right now is doing a really bad job.
"Yeah, I just... shouldn't be here," you respond with a shaky voice, eyes strained down on your feet.
"Where else should you be?"
You turn your head toward him, looking at him like a poor hurt puppy. He doesn't want to compare you to something so defenceless as a puppy, but that's what your eyes tell him. It's not like you're weak, it's more like you've given up on being strong.
"I don't know," you scoff, shaking your head. "Somewhere I belong."
Jungkook thinks he understands what you mean by that. He thinks, but he doesn't know if he really does. It's complicated to relate to someone who's so different from you.
But he wants to try. Relating to someone is not mandatory to be friends, anyway. Nor is it to be in love.
He hums, leaning his forearms on his knees and looking in front of him, watching the night butterflies flying under the dim lights of the street lamps. "Wanna get home?" He proposes, thinking that's maybe where you want to be right now. "I can give you a ride."
Your reddened eyes look up at him and he looks back at you. "No, not home..." You mutter, shaking your head from side to side. "Tomorrow will come too fast," you sigh and break eye-contact, tapping on the screen of your phone to check what hour it is. One a.m..
Is it a coincidence that every time you two are alone the clock indicates one? Should he believe in coincidences or only in the ones that concern you?
"We're already tomorrow," you groan.
Jungkook smiles — he can't help it. "You can't stop the time, baby" he laughs lightly, still staring at you, at your side profile. A blessing to the eyes, a downfall to his heart. "It won't wait for your call to finally start."
You scoff again, this time because you know what he's referring to. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just bad at relationships... or whatever this is," you apologize, certainly coming out a bit blunter than intended. Blame it on the alcohol in your system.
"It's already forgotten." It isn't, but it may be forgiven. He'll surely have this one on his heart for quite a while, though it won't make him stay away from you. It possibly can't.
You send him a sad smile, having pity for him — or maybe for you — he doesn't know.
"Wanna come to mine, then?" He offers, sporting an innocent smile on his face even though he has no intentions of sharing a cup of tea with you there. Unless that's what you want.
"Where do you live?" You ask, a bit tempted by the proposition. And anyway, you need a place to sleep.
"Downtown," Jungkook replies. "We'll be there in five minutes if we go now," he smirks, trying his hardest to convince you.
It never takes too much to convince you.
"'Kay, let's go," you smile back, biting down on your lip.
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
When you entered his apartment, you didn't really pay attention to the decoration, you were rather more bothered by his lips on yours. The moment you stepped foot into his place, his lips were already searching for yours and you didn't refuse him.
So now he's hurriedly leading you to his bedroom, messily kissing you and roaming his hands over the curves of your body. His fingers sometimes get caught under the hem of your dress, making the flimsy material roll up over your plushy thighs.
There's no time to think, no time to ask questions. There's only a need to discover and devour your skin, only a huge desire to finally touch what he hopes will be his one day.
"Oh, be careful," he mumbles against your lips, stopping you from entering his room, his arms wrapped around your waist. "There's a step."
He swiftly lifts you up, his hands placed on the back of your thighs. He can't help but knead them, sinking his fingers into the meaty flesh.
He walks in, making you avoid all the annoying steps to his bed, the covers carelessly thrown everywhere from this morning when he got up. You continue to kiss him, your nails gracing the side of his face as you cradle him in your hands.
Soon enough he lets your back hit the soft surface of his mattress, a soft gasp escaping your lips while he crawls to you, his lips never far away from your hungry ones. He nudges your nose, attempting to connect your mouths together. He does it again and you let him have you, exchanging your saliva like it’s a sweet nectar, him a bee and you a sunflower.
Your hands on his cheeks lower to his neck where you pull on his nair, nails scratching his skin. He groans into the kiss, palming your ass very roughly, fingers sneaking under the hem of your dress.
He has the slight impression that not only your tongues are tangled, but also your souls. Bodies colliding, clashing against each other at the pace of your heartbeat. 
His knees dip into the bed on each side of your body, his arms supporting his weight beside your head. He bucks his hips against yours as you quietly moan into his mouth, feeling his growing bulge pressing down on you.
Blood rushes to his cock so fast, it's like his own brain is begging for him to just fuck you. No protection, fucking raw. Make it messy, make it unforgettable, make it so every time you're with a guy other than Jungkook you regret him.
But he takes his time. That's how he learned it; time is what a woman needs, not a prick who wants his dick wet and to get it from behind. As if doggy is a position that can make her cum.
"Fuck, I'm so..." Jungkook breathes out, his forehead laying against yours. His eyelids flutter shut as he swallows to ease his dried throat, opening his eyes again when he begins to speak. "I'm so fucking hard."
"I know," you whisper, glancing down where he grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy. "I feel it."
He groans at that and moves his hips against yours with more insistence, the material of his jeans rubbing against the soft cotton of your panties. You moan at how good it feels to have his hard cock pressing down on your clit, your hands coming down to push on his butt.
"Shit, baby," he hisses, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. He frowns cutely and looks down too, deciding to raise one of your legs up, making more room for himself. "Do you like that?" He asks, continuing to hump you as if you were both deprived horny teenagers — and he won't lie, he may still act like one sometimes.
He notices a wet patch on your panties just over your core, the area has darkened where your pussy gushes arousal out. "Oh, god- yes, Kook," you moan out, the new position creating more friction.
He almost whines at the nickname, his dick literally twitching happily in his boxers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the pace of his heart accelerating, his breath becoming irregular.
He holds your thigh up and he loves how plushy it is, how your skin looks so tender. He'd bite into it, just chew onto it to have a little taste of you.
"You smell so sweet," he states, his hot breath hitting your skin, making goosebumps run all over your skin. He kisses your neck, soft and warm, leaving a wet trail behind.
He rolls his hips against you, his erection now aching, wanting to be inside of you, but he can't seem to think about anything else than your quiet moans gracing his ears and your odour invading his nostrils.
"Jungkook," you whine, scrunching his t-shirt between your fingers, pulling on it desperately as he keeps smooching the skin of your neck.
He understands your silent request and he swiftly gets rid of his t-shirt, throwing it somewhere on his bedroom's floor. Your hands immediately travel his abs and you feel his muscles flexing under your palms.
You then pass your arms around his shoulders, bringing his lips to yours. He moans into the kiss as he keeps rubbing his hard cock against your pussy, but your little pleas make it difficult for him to focus.
He sneaks a hand between your two bodies and you grip on his hair when he reaches your puffy clit, pulsating so hard for him. "Do you want me to touch you there?" He asks in a raspy voice, his big fingers teasing your sensitive bud, his touch familiar at this point. "Hm, princess? Want me to make you feel good?"
He always finds a way to tease you even when his jeans are really tight, his cock so swollen from your dry humping session from seconds ago.
"Yes, please," you breathe out shakily, a moan escaping your mouth when he starts to draw slow, sensual circles on your clit. "Fuck, Kook." You have your mouth agape, letting out sweet moans as his digit presses down on your bud, making the knot in your stomach tighten.
He lowers his fingers to your core, feeling how soaked your panties are. "All wet for me, baby?" He purrs and you nod your head, breathless. "Good girl," he praises, a little smirk crowning his pink lips.
You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, closing your eyes as you enjoy the pleasure he's giving you. "Faster, please, Jungkook," you beg, his finger stroking your clit sending so many tingles through your body.
So he fastens the pace of his digit, rubbing quick circles on your bud of nerves and he absolutely loves the sight of you bucking your hips against his hand, growing impatient. Your nails sink into his skin, leaving little crescent forms all over his neck. He grits his teeth at the pain, but he'll suffer through it as long as it means you're feeling pleasure.
"Yes, yes," you moan, so close to your high, your mind getting fuzzy. He doesn't stop stimulating your clit, the pad of his finger skillfully circling it over your damp underwear. "I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly say, the muscles of your thighs tensing as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Your orgasm shoots through you and you grab Jungkook's wrist, but he keeps moving his finger to drive you off your high. You tense down, hearing your heart beating in your rib cage, chest heaving rapidly.
You flutter your eyes open and they meet Jungkook's gaze. You look into each other's eyes as you slowly calm down. His hand shifts to hold your waist and you bring him in for another kiss.
You don't wait longer before sliding your panties down your legs, raising your hips up from the mattress and letting the material fall on the ground. He breaks your kiss to see your pussy totally nude, glistening in your juices. He swears it's the sexiest he's ever seen before, so cute and always so fucking wet.
He has the urge to lower down and have a taste. He could never forget your flavour, but he'd pretend to so you let him eat you out for a second time.
Exactly when he's about to devour you, you push on his chest and switch positions with him. He lets you take the top, watching you remove your dress and reveal the most intimate parts of your body to him, naked.
"You're beautiful," he compliments, the most honest he's ever been. His eyes roam over your body, scanning your breasts and your perky nipples pointing at him.
You're a pretty woman, but he wonders if his heart beating faster is really the result of your beauty or perhaps the feelings he might have for you.
"So are you," you smile, giggling when Jungkook's still staring at you with hearts in his eyes.
He's brought back to reality when you place yourself on your stomach between his legs. "What... What are you doing?" He swallows, his big brown eyes settled on you.
"Returning the favour," you respond, passing your finger on his stomach just over the band of his Calvin Klein's that peeks out of his pants. "Would you like that, Kook?"
"Yeah," he mutters under his breath, watching closely the movements of your hands, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You undress him from his pair of jeans and socks, coming back up to his crotch after.
He parts his legs wider for you and you lay a hand over his bulge, feeling how hard he is just for you. "You're so big, Jungkook..." You say in astonishment, visibly really pleased with his girth.
You palm him over his boxers, closing your hand around him, imagining how it'd be without his underwear on.
"Hm-mh." Jungkook passes his fingers through your hair, making you look up at him. "Think you can handle it, baby?"
You squeeze your grip on him, which results in him hissing. He's really sensitive, especially when he's been sporting a boner for quite a while now.
Though nothing will compare to the time you left him just after he made you cum on his tongue. He sucked it up, but fuck, nobody told him before how complicated it was to drive with an erection. It's really distracting. Luckily, his work was done, so he could go straight home, but still.
He had to jack off in the shower, thinking about you and how your pussy would close around him so tightly.
"I'll try," you smile.
You pull down his boxers, leaving them just below his ass, and his cock springs up, the head slapping down on his stomach. He lets out a sigh of relief, finally free from his briefs.
You wrap your fingers around him, looking so small compared to his penis, and bring him up to your lips. His tip is glistening in his pre-cum and it twitches in your hand, just so happy to see you.
Jungkook hasn't shaved, he didn't expect any of this to happen after all. He hopes you don't mind, but you don't seem to, quite the contrary even.
You start to gently and slowly pump him, passing the pad of your thumb over the little slit, spreading his arousal over his length. You leave a kiss on the head and he wonders if you're not getting revenge for all the times he teased you.
You tilt your head to the side and kiss his length all the way up to finally open your mouth and insert the tip in. Jungkook curses under his breath, taking a handful of your hair in his fist, making your scalp itch.
You keep eye-contact with him as you lower down, gradually taking all of him in the warmth of your mouth. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good around me," he moans, looking at you with lustful eyes. He can't take his eyes off of you, he's literally hypnotized by the way your lips slide so smoothly over his hard cock.
You hum, the sound a bit muffled by his dick in your mouth. Tears start to form in your eyes, throat burning as you get used to his size and the stretch of your mouth.
When you've reached his base, nose touching his pelvis, you gag around him, but manage to make the feeling go away. Jungkook believes he's in heaven right now, having his cock nestled deep in your mouth, some strands of hair falling down in front of your eyes.
You blink several times, trying to see clearer, but the water makes your vision fuzzy. "It's okay, princess," he sighs pleasantly, seeing that you struggle, your throat starting to burn badly. You gag another time and he has to concentrate if he doesn't want to cum right now. "Shit... Don't- don't force yourself," he hisses, pulling your head up.
His cock falls back down on his tummy, hearing a wet slap since he's entirely covered in your saliva. You catch your breath and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, immediately taking him back in your hand.
You stroke him, running your palm up and down his girthy length. You swallow to ease your throat and glance up at him with teary eyes. He pouts, cupping your cheeks and swiping his thumbs under your eyes to get the little pearls away.
"You don't have to take everything... I'm already happy to have you with me," he admits and he hopes his words don't scare you away. You don't know each other for that long, but sometimes he just has to be honest about his feelings.
You smile, nodding your head in response. He moans when you take him back into your mouth, flattening your tongue underneath him. He knits his eyebrows together as you bob your head over him, a hand wrapped around his base.
His short nails dig into your scalp, making you wince, but it doesn't make you stop. Jungkook lets out heavy breaths and moans, his hand gripping your hair and guiding you over his wet cock.
His other hand, his tattooed one, scrunches the bedsheets in his fist, the pleasure too good it becomes overwhelming. His eyes are strained down on you and every time your gazes meet, his heart skips a beat.
It feels too good to be true, yet here you are, pleasuring him like nobody else's ever did. You both like to give and he hopes it won't make sex difficult between you two. Well, if it ever happens again, which he really wishes it will.
"Yeah, just like that," he approves when you hollow your cheeks, continuing to bounce your head over his stiff erection. "Such a good girl," he adds on and loosens his grip on your hair, delicately patting you instead.
You almost purr under all the sweet praises he tells you, loving how he makes you feel confident and proud of yourself. Your free hand is laying on his thighs, sensing his muscles tensing and calming down each time he controls himself to last longer.
But even though he tries his best to not shoot his cum into you right now, your mouth does wonders and his orgasm is approaching really fast.
"I'm not gonna last long, baby," he warns you in a breathy voice. "Shit," he curses, sucking air through his teeth and feeling his balls tightening. Your tongue is so warm and wet, he can't resist you any longer.
You pull out and stroke his length, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. It breaks as you lick them, fucking Jungkook with your fist. He groans, gritting his teeth, and his grip on the covers tightens, signs that his high is really close now.
He curls his toes, the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach growing. "Holy fuck," he spits out profanities and his cock twitches, hot cum spilling out from his red, swollen tip.
You moan with him, turned on by the sight of him releasing himself on your hand. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, all of his muscles flexing as you milk him dry.
"Oh, god, Kook," you coo, lazily stroking his cock and caressing his thigh to make him relax. "There's so much," you comment, literally amazed.
Jungkook opens his eyes and looks down at his crotch, seeing your hand still wrapped around him completely covered in his cum. He bites down on his lip at the view, even more aroused when you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the remains.
"Shit, you fucking minx," he says, but there's no intention to insult you, he's just so down bad for you.
It makes you giggle, encouraging you to do something even nastier. You sit on your knees and spread his cum on your tits, circling your nipples with your fingers.
Jungkook smiles, his affection for you growing, and takes a hold of your jaw, pulling you in for a long, sloppy kiss. You moan into his mouth, his cock brushing against your pussy, still hard and ready to wreck you.
"You have no idea what I want to do to you," he groans, looking into your eyes like they are the whole galaxy, endless so he can lose himself in them.
"Do what you need to do to me," you allow, offering yourself to him and more if he desires to.
When those words leave your mouth, he picks you up and gets up from his bed, your legs locked behind his back. You gasp when he pins you against the nearest wall, placing your arms around his large shoulders, holding onto him tightly.
"You sure? Because we're only done when I say so," he breathes onto your face, his forehead against yours, bangs slightly damp from his sweat.
"One-hundred percent sure," you grin, but lose your smile as soon as he pushes his cock into your pussy, ripping a loud moan out of you.
Your nails dig into the skin of his back to give him some of the pain he's inflicting to you by penetrating you with his big cock. He holds you up against him, his hands on your ass, touching you so sensually and lovingly, appreciating every part of your body.
He sinks his dick into your pussy, sliding in so easily without any restraint, cunt absolutely soaking wet. "God, pussy's so fucking tight," he rasps out, finally bottoming out into you. His balls touch your ass, his pelvis flushed against yours, meaning he's completely in.
You whine, feeling absolutely full, pussy clenching helplessly around him. Jungkook doesn't wait — he can't anymore — and starts pounding into you, his balls slapping against your skin. The room smells like sex, it's strong and quite obvious, but he easily ignores it, he practically can't even smell it.
He slides his cock in and out of your pussy, making you moan sweetly, a beautiful melody to his ears. He doesn't hold himself back and fucks you hard against the wall, but you're nowhere near against it, you're loving it.
Your boobs jiggle on your chest because of Jungkook's harsh thrusts, both of your skins glistening under the light of his bedroom, covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"I'm so full, Kook," you moan softly and he can't look away from you, finding you so pretty and sexy.
"Yeah? Full of my big cock, baby?" He asks, darting out his tongue to wet his dried lips, passing over his piercings.
"Yes," you cry, breaking eye-contact as you close your eyes, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind you.
His hips are powerful, never missing a beat and brushing over your sweet spot repeatedly. Your pussy has adjusted to the size of his girth, some of your wetness dripping down to your butt and coating his balls that slap against you.
He pushes some of his cum into you as well, the rest you haven't licked off your fingers or spread on your tits. He still can't believe you did that, but god, did he find it hot. He never thought you playing with his cum would turn him on so much. He sure will think about this moment when he's going to be alone with himself.
His eyes shift down to your bouncing breasts and he has to put one in his mouth, even if it means tasting a bit of himself too.
He catches one nipple with lips, wrapping them around your hardened bud. You moan his name and pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing his head down toward your chest.
It sends more tingles to your belly, your walls closing around him tightly. He lets out a grunt, knowing his orgasm will come close if you continue clenching around him as if you want to suck him up.
"Jungkook!" You exclaim when he turns you both around, walking back to his bed. He lays your back down on the mattress, still in you, and continues his assault, snapping his hips against yours.
He pushes up your thighs over your stomach, getting a better view and access to your pussy. "Take my cock, baby. Be a good girl for me," he says, completely obsessed with you and your cunt. If you weren't made for you, he doesn't know how he'll trust life again.
Putting you on his way just to get rid of you... No, if you're not his, you're nobody else's and if he's not yours, then he doesn't know what life is fucking worth.
"Yes, yes, Jungkook," you confirm in a moan, or maybe your brain is too mushy to find something else to answer.
You place two fingers on each side of your hole where Jungkook keeps pounding in, watching his cock entering and exiting your sloppy cunt. You pull on your pussy lips, feeling the knot at the pitch of your stomach tightening again, a more intense orgasm waiting for you.
You bring a finger to your clit and begin to draw fast circles on it, impatient to feel the burning and euphoric sensation of your upcoming orgasm. Jungkook moans at the sight, making him more desperate to reach his high as well.
"Shit, close, princess?" He questions and you nod repeatedly, humming in agreement. "Me too..." He states, breathless and chest heaving rapidly.
He's tired, but somehow he still has the energy to fuck you. Honestly, fucking you might be the only thing he'll never get tired of, that's for sure. It's so addicting, so good, he simply can't get enough.
"Please, please, Kook. Faster," you beg, even though he's already going at a quick pace that will probably leave the skin of your thighs sore and bruised.
You stroke your clit from side to side and he pounds you so hard it makes you dizzy and kind of drunk off the hormones you're both releasing.
He hits your magic spot multiple times, eliciting loud moans of pleasure out of you, your eyes rolling back. "Yes, like that," you cry, the last thing you say before your thighs start shaking.
Your back lifts up from the mattress when your orgasm hits you, passing through you like a tsunami, leaving you out of breath. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook and he's so close, too.
He drives his cock into you, making you whine in overstimulation, and he feels the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. "Oh, fuck, baby," he moans and slips out of you rapidly, jerking himself off just over your quivering pussy. "Gonna cum."
With a last thrust of his hand, he cums on your cunt, making a dirty mess on you. You moan when ropes of white cum land on your pussy, dribbling down to your hole and ass.
Finally, little beads spurt out of his cock, falling on your sex. You collect some on your fingers, pushing them in you and Jungkook watches with lazy eyes, slowly pumping his cock to drive off his high.
He picks you up and places you both side by side on the bed, recovering from the heated session of sex you just experienced. He lies on his back while you're cuddled up to his side, one hand on his chest.
He turns his head in your direction and you're already smiling at him, drawing little forms on his stomach, following the lines of his abs. "Was good," you whisper.
"Yeah," Jungkook agrees, frowning slightly, wondering if maybe, potentially you share the same feelings as him.
The next morning, you dress yourself back up, having taken a fresh shower while Jungkook was still sleeping. He watches you putting back on your dress, his arms crossed behind his head.
When you're done, you spin around and face him. "What about..." You begin, a playful smile gracing your lips. "You call me soon?"
He looks at you, taking a moment to answer, just admiring the happiness you radiate. He compares your mood of when he's found you sitting on the stairs at the party to the one of this morning and he tells himself that you're feeling better because of him.
If you can both make each other happy, he doesn't see why you two can't work — as friends or more, it doesn't matter as long as he's the reason why you have a smile on your face.
"Sure."
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
.
.
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part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼
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hanaruri-tunes · 10 months
Text
The demons’ reactions to Y/N asking them to fuck them (headcanons/short scenarios)
⚠️ As usual MDNI!!!
The MC can be whichever gender you want in this one. (Pretty sure I managed to keep it ambiguous?)
What follows are individual scenarios btw, it’s not MC asking every single one of them at the same time haha (I could write one like that as well though if people like this one? Not sure of how well it would turn out but I could.)
Anyway, enjoy 👇
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Lucifer
He could tell something was different right away. You’re not the type to be shy with them and particularly not him. Sometimes your blatant disrespect towards him is refreshing… sometimes it’s infuriating, and yet here you are now, shifting in place, fiddling with your hands and looking down nervously. It catches his attention right away.
"Is something wrong? Y/N, if something is troubling you, you can tell me. In fact, please do so freely."
"...lease …uck me."
"...Excuse me?"
Surely he heard wrong, no matter how honest you are, there’s no way you would ask something like that with no build up-
"Please, fuck me…"
"..."
Lucifer puts his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his delight in vain. He has always wondered how to go about it, what to plan, how to charm you and get you in the palm of his hands. To think that you would come marching right ahead, falling into his hands on your own just like that. He approaches you, taking you into his arms, feeling up your body against his.
"But of course, no need to be so shy about it. Shall we go upstairs Dear?"
Mammon
Mammon felt like something was a bit different about you tonight. You kept coming closer to him, more than usual, brushing over him, smiling at him in a special way. Were you seducing him? Because if you were, it was 100% effective! But well, wouldn't it be rude to point it out? What if you stop? What if it wasn’t on purpose? So he keeps quiet and you get more and more frustrated with his inaction until it explodes.
"...Don’t you want to fuck me?!"
"Wha- Yes?!?"
Thinking twice? He didn’t even think once. He was surprised for sure but when you ask for something like this, there’s only one correct answer to give. In a flash, he pounces on you.
"Anytime, anyday, whenever you want. Please only come to me Y/N…"
Leviathan
You were harder to handle today than you usually are. Leviathan is used to holding his breath when you hug him or kiss him on the cheek. He’s used to looking away when you bend down or shutting his eyes tight when your face gets too close. But today? Today was different. You kept clinging to him, not giving him any personal space. Constantly praising and teasing him. His heart had skipped at least eleven beats in total, and even that might still be an understatement. Levi ends up breaking, asking you outright if something is wrong.
"C-Could it be that you want something from me? Sorry, I really don’t know um, if uh. Well I just don’t understand where you're getting at."
You hold back the urge to facepalm, well, it’s not like you didn’t see it coming. Leviathan thinks that he’s so unattractive that no one, and especially not you, could ever want him.
You press yourself against him, circling your fingertips on his chest.
"Jeez, you really are an idiot sometimes Leviathan… I want to fuck you. You get it now?"
His third member rises immediately at the request while his mind is still buffering.
"Uhh?? Um, y-yeah? I mean, errr. Are you like, 100- no, 1000% sure? O-Out of all my brothers me??? Isn’t that um, of course I’m not judging but maybe I’m not-"
You kiss him on the corner of his lips, shutting him up.
"I only want you to fuck me, can you do that?"
"Y-Yes. Anything you want...! ♡"
Satan
There he was again, nose stuck in his books. However your perfume caught his attention right away. You always smell nice but this fragrance was different from your usual scent. It was more mature, more seductive, more… He looks up to you, even your clothes show more than usual. Your hairstyle is different as well. Are you going out? So then why did you come to him? He coughs.
"Excuse me for staring. You look very good. Is there a soirée tonight that I’m not aware of?"
You look to the side, a bit flustered. Without a word you sit next to him on the sofa, then you slide your hand on his knee, not daring to go up to his thigh yet.
"...Would you like to fuck me?"
"..."
Silence.
He’s processing your request, making sure he understands your intentions. After a couple of seconds that seemed to go on forever, Satan closes his book and leaves it on the table. Then he leans over you, encouraging your hand to go higher on his thighs.
"Well, since you asked so politely how could I ever turn you down, hm?"
Asmo
He can tell right away what you really want since he is the avatar of lust. However he lets it play out, curious to see how you’ll go about it. Will you be all shy and cute or will you be more confident? He enjoys seeing the gears turning in your head as you’re awkwardly holding your hands together, sweating from the pressure. However he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable when asking for something as wonderful as sex, especially with him since he is quite the fanatic.
"Relax your shoulders and breathe Y/N♡"
He places his hands on your shoulders, sliding them down your arms then going back up only to fall down again, on your back this time. He starts massaging you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, making you comfortable and eager rather than nervous and scared.
"...Asmo?"
"Mh-hm?~"
"I’d like you to fuck me, is that okay?"
He stops, then pulls you over. Your back against his chest, he whispers his answer.
"What a coincidence, that’s what I’ve wanted to do to you since the very first time we met♡ How lucky that you asked for it first..."
Beel
Beel is devouring a rotisserie chicken in the kitchen… again. It seems like that’s all he does, everytime you want to find an appropriate moment to ask, well, it never is a good moment. You look at him, your spirits down, readying yourself to leave as usual. Surprisingly, he stops you and invites you to sit down.
"Y/N… Lately you always look sad when I see you. Would you like some? You know if you’re hungry you can always ask me to share."
"That’s not it Beel…"
You look down, discouraged from asking for it. All Beel always thinks and talks about is food anyway. Will he even care if you ask him something like that? Maybe he has no interest in such things, or in you.
Beel puts the food down, looking grim.
"Beel? What’s wrong…?"
"It’s difficult to enjoy the food when you look down, somehow even the taste turns foul when you’re sad."
Your chest feels tight at his words, maybe it would be good to just be honest and get it over with.
"Beel, truth is- Uhh. ... I want you to f-fuck me… But well, I can understand if you’re not interested in that sort of stuf-"
Beel’s eyes light up, his gaze stuck on you.
He takes you into his arms, carrying you out of the kitchen, heading up the stairs.
"B-Beel?!"
"That’s all you wanted? Should’ve said so earlier, I’ll finally be able to quench my hunger for a while."
Belphegor
You came to wake him as you do every morning, since you’re apparently the most skilled at this task according to the others. Still, some days it’s a challenge even for you. Like today for instance: he keeps complaining, bitching and moaning. You’d like to make this easy for the both of you but it’s complicated to keep finding different ways to encourage him to get up. Kisses, hugs, dates, and the exact same offers rarely work for over 3 times in a row. It pisses you off, could it be that he just got tired of you already?
You give up and lie down next to him, sulking and muttering.
"Asshole… What if I asked you to fuck me. Bet you wouldn’t even care, hm?"
Belphie’s eyes shot wide open, then he turned over to you. Extremely attentive to your every move and word.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Only good boys who get up at reasonable times have a right to have a go at me."
He clings onto you greedily, begging you to repeat.
"Come on, pleeease? I’ll get up right away if you ask for it."
"Nope, too late to smother me now."
He puts his hand on your waist, grabbing it firmly and pulling you towards him into the bed.
"...Please? I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be the one to ask to stay in bed."
You ponder it for a bit… Well. Truthfully, you do want him so- Shyly, you ask him.
"Mh. Then um. Will you fuck me good…?"
You feel him smile against your neck, and he answers.
"I promise I won’t let you go until you’re completely satisfied with me. ♡"
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Doneee.
And my askbox is open just so y’all know, no promises on anything but do know that anything you send will definitely be seen/read even if I might not be able to answer to everything! I don’t know if I can say that my "commissions" are open but if you send me ideas and I like them, there is a chance I might write some stuff based on them 🫰
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kombuuuu · 10 months
Note
Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?
It Sounds Nice coming from You.
Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader
“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
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kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)
People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.
But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.
The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.
You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.
There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.
So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.
Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.
Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.
Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.
The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.
The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.
He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.
Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.
Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.
It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.
“She’s silent, ain’t she?”
“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”
“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”
“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”
The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.
“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“
“Cut it, mate.”
He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.
“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”
“No.”
“Mm.”
Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”
“Jesus..”
He felt rather accomplished that day.
It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.
Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.
Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.
He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.
immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(
I’m patient 🦑
u werent 2 seconds ago
I don’t subscribe to consistency.
Or this slandering talk
ur consistently lame
also why squid
I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute
hes not real
Don’t do this me
reeeeeal tasty tho
What is wrong with you.
numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)
Inhumane.
mmmmmm yummyyyy
He can’t die, he’s immortal
The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.
“Hey, Hobie!”
Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.
He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.
“Pav, my guy!”
Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.
“What’chu doing up there?”
His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.
Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”
Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.
“Textin’ [Name].”
Just then, the next message from you showed.
immortal ??? how consistent of him to live
He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.
He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything
ihu
terrivle joke
No, you don’t
And it was great
wtvr >:P
Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.
“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.
“They do argue very often.”
“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”
Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.
They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.
He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.
“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”
Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.
“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”
“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”
“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.
“What does mini-punk even mean!”
“Not exactly, Pavitr.”
Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.
The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.
“Huh?”
“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.
“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”
Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.
Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.
“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.
Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.
“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”
A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.
“Wha’ ‘bout it?”
His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.
“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”
Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.
“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”
The punk quirked a brow.
“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.
“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.
“Exactly, it’s not.”
Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.
“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”
Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.
“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.
“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”
“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”
“Gwen, it’s not like that.”
“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”
“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.
“No— well, not unless—,”
“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.
“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“
They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.
“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.
The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.
“You agreed to this?”
lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”
He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.
“Now, you know that’s not tr—“
His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.
“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”
He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.
“I really didn’t mean to agree.”
Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”
And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.
You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.
How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.
You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.
And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.
Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?
Because you love him, you guess.
His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.
His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.
“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”
“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”
“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.
Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.
“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.
“This—, This asshole!”
“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.
Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”
“Not kicked.”
“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”
Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”
“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”
“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”
“Gwendolyne.”
“All of you, stop.”
Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”
“Since when did you have a say—“
“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”
“She’s an adult.”
“When it’s convenient to you.”
Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.
“She doesn’t talk to people.”
“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.
“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.
“Not that I’ve seen.”
Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”
“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.
“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.
“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oops too late, portals open.”
“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.
“Yeah..”
“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.
“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”
The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.
He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.
You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.
Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.
Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.
“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.
“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”
Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.
“I totally called it.”
“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.
“Oh my god, I love this movie!”
“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.
Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.
“The horse.”
“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.
Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”
You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.
He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.
The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.
Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.
“You doin’ right, babe?”
“Yeah, Hobes.”
You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”
“We’re in bed, dummy.”
He shot you a playful look.
“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”
You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.
A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.
“Sleep, sweethear’.”
“Mhmmph.”
Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.
No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.
BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️
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luveline · 10 months
Note
Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?
Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine
SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW
thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k
Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl. 
You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes. 
Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone. 
He's clearly troubled by something. 
"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.
"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion." 
"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says. 
He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.
He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it. 
Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him. 
You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh. 
"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?" 
Miguel doesn't glance your way. 
Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says. 
You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly. 
"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small." 
"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative. 
Miguel groans loud and unapologetically. 
You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest. 
He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen. 
"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it." 
Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes. 
"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers. 
"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–" 
"In what scenario–" 
"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder. 
"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop. 
You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today? 
"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says. 
You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say. 
"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once." 
"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense." 
Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.
"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now." 
You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier. 
"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you. 
You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased. 
"You did that on purpose," Miguel says. 
"I did what on purpose?" 
"Coming in here." 
"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible. 
Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours. 
"Don't even think about it," he says. 
"About what, handsome?" 
"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win. 
"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated." 
He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it. 
"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says. 
"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much. 
"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.
You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do." 
He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something." 
"Miguel, I came to see you." 
"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority." 
"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you. 
"Go away. Come and see me later," he says. 
You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory. 
Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave. 
Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.
3K notes · View notes
exhaslo · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 28-Gynecologist!Miguel x Nervous!Reader (Teasing/Fingering)
*Requested by reader ;) Also, early update due to working both jobs tmw*
        It was that time of year again for you. It was always a nerve racking experience since you always worried about anything being wrong with you. After a long shower, you changed into a fresh pair of clothing, ready for your appointment. The fear of you smelling or sweating or anything for that matter made you nervous. It was just a regular checkup. Nothing changed from last year, so there was going to be nothing wrong.
        Besides, your friend, Lyla, worked at the gynecologist as an assistant. She always helped you calm down. Lyla even tried to set you up with one of her friends. A handsome man named, Miguel O'Hara. You had dated him a few times and found him very attractive. If only you weren't so timid. During those dates you barely uttered a word, just a small squeak here or there. You were honestly surprised that he even asked you out a few more times. 
        You were starting to get comfortable with him. Perhaps on your next date you could ask him about his job and his likes. Miguel was so kind. He was defiantly your type. You even thought about him at night. Gasping lowly, you slapped your cheeks. Now was not a good time to think about Miguel. It would be embarrassing to be wet for your checkup.
"(Y/n)~ Come on in!" Lyla chirped, motioning you inside.
        You took your regularly deep breathes, slowly following Lyla's lead. You friend gave you a quick hug before leading you into a private room. Lyla hummed as she closed the door and asked the routine questions.
"Alright, and did the front desk girl tell you about the new gyno? I hope so,"
"S-She did. I was okay with it being...a male," You whispered, trying to hide your stutter. Lyla just curled her lips into a smile,
"Don't worry, (Y/n)! You'll be perfectly fine! Anyway, how's it going with Miguel?" She asked, changing the topic. Your eyes lit up,
"T-Thank you again for giving me his n-number! He...He is really kind...and sweet. He doesn't r-rush me when I try...try to talk to him," You explained, "He doesn't mind me texting him....instead."
"I told you he was a good one!" Lyla grinned from ear to ear, "He likes you a lot too~"
"H-He does?!"
        Lyla chuckled at your flustered expression. Upon hearing a knock at the door, Lyla hummed as she got you ready. You were getting nervous again. She helped you relax before opening the door.
"Hello, Miss-(Y/n)??" Miguel paused as he stared at you. You squeaked in response before turning to Lyla.
"Oh, totally forgot to mention that Miguel is your new doctor~" She said with a wide grin, "Now I know I'm supposed to stay in here with you both, buuuuuut you guys know each other~ Bye!"
        Just like that, Lyla left both you and Miguel alone. Your face was a million shades of red as you tried to fit your gown, recalling that you were naked in front of the man you were dating. Miguel cleared his throat as he took a seat by the computer. He glanced over your files before turning towards you.
"This must be awkward," He started and read your body language, "Would you like your phone to text me?"
        You nodded violently in response. Miguel resisted a chuckle and went to your pile of clothes on the separate chair and looked for your phone. He glanced at your panties, restraining himself. He gave you the phone and grabbed his, waiting for your response. A smile on his face as he watched you. You were so cute. Someone worth his time. Someone worth his love. Miguel would do anything to keep you happy and relaxed.
'Did you know I was going to be your patient?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at the message,
"No, I just started here two days ago. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I can get another doctor." He replied. You hesitated before typing,
'No, it's okay. I was just surprised. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'
"Not at all," Miguel chuckled lowly and stood from his seat, "Just let me know when you want me to start. I'll take as much time as you need."
        Your eyes soften as you looked at Miguel. You remembered when you first met him. He was so tall and seemed so threatening. Putting your phone to the side, you played with your fingers as you took a deep breathe. You looked into Miguel's eyes and gave him a nod, allowing him to start.
        Miguel was slow and gentle. He asked you to raise your right arm before moving your gown. He watched your facial expressions, making sure that everything was okay. You whimpered quietly as his large hand took ahold of your breast, gently massaging it to check for any lumps. Normally, you would just tremble as the doctor checked you, but this was different. This was Miguel touching you. Something you only dreamed of. Not only was he making you shake from nervousness, but also giving you those dirty thoughts.
"All good on this side, now for the other." Miguel's hand gently trailed your back as he repeated the process on your other breast, "You're shaking, are you okay?"
"Y-Yes," You whispered lowly.
        You inhaled deeply as you tried not to focus on Miguel touching you. He was just doing his job. So what if his large hands felt good as they massaged your breasts. So what if he was more gentle with you than your previous doctors. So what if he smelled amazing? You were here for a check up, not to fantasize on him railing you. It wasn't like you were up for such a task anyway.
"Alright, you're all good there, no lumps. Now for the main part, just let me know when you're ready by propping your legs up for me, okay?" Miguel told you, rubbing your shoulder.
        God, he was so fine. You gave him a nod, watching as he got his gloves and tool ready. Now this, you were embarrassed about. You always hated this part. You could feel your heart about to leap out of your chest. Miguel was about to look at your pussy. You haven't even kissed the man yet and you were about to skip a bunch of steps. It was hard to think about his job now. All you could focus on was Miguel examining your wet pussy.
"U-Um," You gulped, reaching for your phone. Miguel handed it to you,
"Want some water?" He offered.
'No, I'm just...please be gentle with me. I know this is your job, but I can't help but feel even more nervous since we're dating.' You texted him. Miguel looked at his phone and chuckled lowly,
"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" He said, switching his glove, "I won't judge. How could I?" He gave you that sweet smile you loved.
        Nodding once more as he stole your breathe away, you got ready. You placed your feet in the little prompt set up they have and spread your legs. A shiver ran up your spine as the cold air hit your pussy. Miguel tighten his gloves and sat on his chair, rolling towards you. You bit your lower lip as he sat directly in front of your cunt, spreading your legs out even more. This was just a check up. Just a check up and nothing more.
        Miguel withheld a groan as he noticed your cunt already wet. Despite your nervousness, it seemed like you were practically excited for him to be looking at you, to be touching you. This was turning him on. Normally, Miguel would get these over with since every other girl would not hesitate to spread their legs for him. Miguel was loving this change of pace. He was loving everything you did. Miguel wanted to hear your voice. A voice only for his ears.
"Alright, let me know if anything feels uncomfortable. I'm just going to feel around for anything, okay?"
"O-Okay," You stuttered.
        Miguel had to bite his cheek. He proceeded to enter a finger inside you, with holding a groan at how tight you were. So wet and so tight, just for him. As he felt around your velvet walls for anything strange, Miguel could not help but hear a quiet whimper coming from you. He glanced at your expression, watching as you closed your eyes and biting your lower lip. God, Miguel was going to lose his patience with you. He knew that you were only like this because it was him. Lyla had told him about how difficult it was for other doctors to even touch your breasts. The fact that you were letting him do this was just so tempting.
"How are you doing?" Miguel asked. You gasped lowly as he pressed his finger up,
"F-Fine," You said, shaking from his touch.
        Miguel's finger was just exploring your insides for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't like he was actually fingering you. However, his finger was so thick and it was making you hot. You tried to think of something else, but the idea of Miguel doing more was turning you on. You whimpered lowly as you felt yourself clench against his finger. Why did these thoughts have to come now? Miguel was just doing his job and here you were getting horny.
"I'm going to insert the tool now. It will feel uncomfortable for only a second, okay?" He told you.
        You just nodded in response and followed his orders. Once he finished with the tool, Miguel approached you. He was so close. Miguel took his gloves off, bringing his hand to your cheek,
"You did so good for me. Are you okay?" He asked you. 
"Y-Yes," You told him and rubbed your legs slightly, "U-Um...S-Sorry...But...I..."
        Miguel raised a brow and read your body language. Your perky nipples and the juices that were streaming down your cunt were just all so tempting. He glanced into your eyes that screamed, 'fuck me'. Knowing that he couldn't or he would lose his job, Miguel inhaled deeply. He leaned down to peck your lips,
"Can I just say, that you are so goddamn tempting?" He whispered, enjoying your expressions, "I know what you want, and I can't give it to you here...But I can help release that tension."
"P-Please?" You nearly squeaked.
        Miguel nearly cussed. He returned to his chair, sitting directly in front of your poor, lonely cunt. He leaned forward and blew against it, watching you twitch. A smile formed against his lips as he entered two fingers this time. He stood up and pumped his fingers inside you, watching your face contort in pleasure. You were so tight for him. So needy. 
"I want to hear your voice later tonight, could you do that for me?" Miguel whispered in your ear as his fingers pumped into you.
"Hah...hah....Y-Yes....I can," You whimpered a soft moan, raising your hips slightly. 
        Miguel hummed happily and curled his fingers right at your sweet spot. Your body arched as you grinded your hips against his hand. Miguel quickly swallowed your moans with a kiss, not wanting anyone to hear you. As much as he wanted to hear those sweet moans, he knew that if he did, he would fuck you right here and now. Feeling your pussy tighten against his fingers, Miguel curled his fingers again. You held onto him as you reached your orgasm.
"That's it. That's my good girl," Miguel whispered, removing his fingers and licking them, "Taste so sweet. I'll have to reward you later,"
"M-Mig," You whispered, panting softly as you sat up. You reached for you phone, 'Want to come over to my place after work?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at his phone,
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He leaned down to kiss you again, "Get dressed. I'll see you later."
        You smiled softly as Miguel left. Quickly putting your clothes back on, you noticed that your panties were missing. Your face turned a million shades of red, knowing that Miguel must have swiped them. You whined softly before grabbing your phone.
'Please bring my panties back!'
'Sure, when I see you tonight.'
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Just been thinking about how when Aziraphale said that 'Nothing Lasts Forever' and Crowley immediately took that in a totally different way than Aziraphale intended.
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The look of surprise and confusion that quickly becomes desperation that takes over Aziraphale face as Crowley walks away, he calls out to him, begs him to come back to him, and quickly covers it up with 'to heaven.'
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he didn't mean them, he would never mean them.
(a lot more under the cut)
the places would change, the circumstances would change, the people and the play and the drama would change, they have always had different seasons of their relationship.
but them, together, as always been as constant as the tides and the phases of the moon, even if they get separated for a month or a decade or a century, they always come back together.
Also been thinking about how Crowley doesn't have faith in a lot of things (for obvious reasons), but the most heart breaking is how he has no faith that underneath it all, no matter what, Aziraphale loves him and wants to be with him, even though he has a mountain of evidence of it.
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Its been pointed out that Aziraphale this whole season has seemed to be trying to get closer emotionally to Crowley, 'shooting his shot.'
'Its our car, its our bookshop, its our plan to save Gabriel, take my hand lets dance while you tell me what's wrong my dear boy.'
More than just an arrangement, more than fraternizing, more then just friendly banter over drinks and food, it always was more, but now they can act like it, Aziraphale is going for it in his own way.
and Aziraphale is so obviously frustrated during the fight that Crowley doesn't see that.
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but come on, you can't blame Crowley at this point, Aziraphale is effectively asking Crowley to change literally everything about themselves and forget a millennia of trauma and anger and guilt and self-loathing.
It sure makes it seem like Aziraphales love is now suddenly conditional on them changing.
I don't think Aziraphale sees it that way though right?
He doesn't see it as 'I will love Crowley more if they are an angel.' he sees it as 'Crowley will be happier as an angel surely? They will also be safer with that designation.' and 'any sacrifice will be worth it if it means we'll finally be able to be safe and together.'
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See, I don't think Aziraphale even wants Crowley to be an angel again.
I think he's trying to convince himself that he wants that, which is what makes the Metatron offering that in the first place so damn insidious.
I think in his heart of hearts, appointing Crowley to be an angel again is just as much of a sacrifice to him as leaving his beloved bookshop, leaving earth with all its wonderful music and color and life and stories and people, but what does that say about him as an angel?
Everyone can sneer and look down on him for having affections for a demon but there is some plausible deniability that its just bad circumstances, Crowley just happens to be a demon but he's really very lovely once you get to know him, in spite of it all.
But like...giving Aziraphale the opportunity to make Crowley an angel again and he doesn't want to take it because...he loves Crowley exactly the way he is? That he may have had a crush on the angel he was, but it was truly The Demon Crowley that he fell in love with.
I think Aziraphale is gonna need some time to get brave enough to say that with his whole chest (but dear lord will it be wonderful when he does.)
And the Metatron knows this, and he knows Crowley is exactly who he is supposed to be, and so The Metatron knows that Crowley could never ever say yes to going back, it goes against his very nature, he knew that Crowley would take it exactly the way he did.
(Ergo more evidence that splitting them up is the whole goal because they're just too powerful together.)
So, Aziraphale is stuck in the worst way I can imagine.
He's given the opportunity to have everything he should want, so he's trying to make the best of it even though it decidedly isn't what he wants, because its evident that the meddling from Heaven and Hell isn't going away, the Metatron is giving him the path of least resistance, isn't that going along with Heaven as far as he can?
Every word he says to Crowley about how wonderful it will be and how this is an amazing opportunity and we'll be together and we'll make better choices, we'll make a difference.
Its trying to convince himself just as much.
I think Aziraphale is terrified of going back to heaven by himself, but what other choice does he have? He's terrified about what will happen if he doesn't, and not because of any explicit threat by the Metatron, but what it would imply about him, if they knew exactly how he felt about Crowley, what might they do to them both?
and that's why the Kiss™ is so horrible and beautiful at the same time, its harsh and it looks like it hurts when their teeth bump together and it is so desperate, but Aziraphale still clings to Crowley, trembling and whimpering (jesus christ sheen...)
More than an expression of romantic love (because by God herself have they expressed it in so many ways for thousands of years,) its a plea to stay, choose this, choose us.
And Aziraphale wants to, but he can't, and its agony, but how could he explain that to Crowley when he barely understands it himself, he doesn't recognize what the Metatron has done.
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That's why Aziraphale seems just as angry at the kiss as he is fucking devastated, its not a 'how dare you kiss me,' its an 'how dare you kiss me right now, in this moment, when if it had came earlier everything might have been different."
"How dare you kiss me now to just let me know everything I'm giving up, and not just because you wanted to."
"How dare you make this our first kiss."
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Aziraphale doesn't see the Kiss™ as the Hail Mary that it is, he sees it as a spiteful bitter thing, something that he has been yearning for forever being twisted into something to hurt him, but I think he can see the sadness and fear in it too, so he forgives Crowley for it.
And of course, Crowley takes that to mean, "I forgive you for kissing me when you know that's not how I feel, for trying to manipulate me." or something to that effect, either way its enough for him to leave the conversation, nothing more to say.
I think Aziraphales next arc is going to be all about being open and honest and brave, which is in exact juxtaposition to the traits that made him grow closer to Crowley in the first place and that's what really fucking gets me.
From giving away the flaming sword, the entire damn arrangement, trying to thwart the apocalypse, to the very fact that he loves Crowley.
"I'm a fallen angel! I lied! To thwart the will of God!"
"Yeah, ya did, but I'm not gonna tell anybody, are you?"
"Then nothing has to change."
Except it did, and it does, if they are to get their happy ending in their cottage in the south downs.
anyway, yeah that's all i wanted to say i think, how was your guys week so far?
gif credit:
@starklystar @raggedy-spaceman @spooks-ez
(if i missed anyone or miscredited pls lmk!)
cont in reply (i like what i wrote here so i'm trying to keep track lol)
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corvidcall · 2 years
Text
None Of You Know What Haiku Are
I'm going to preface this by saying that i am not an expert in ANY form of poetry, just an enthusiast. Also, this post is... really long. Too long? Definitely too long. Whoops! I love poetry.
If you ask most English-speaking people (or haiku-bot) what a haiku is, they would probably say that it's a form of poetry that has 3 lines, with 5, and then 7, and then 5 syllables in them. That's certainly what I was taught in school when we did our scant poetry unit, but since... idk elementary school when I learned that, I've learned that that's actually a pretty inaccurate definition of haiku. And I think that inaccurate definition is a big part of why most people (myself included until relatively recently!) think that haiku are kind of... dumb? unimpressive? simple and boring? I mean, if you can just put any words with the right number of syllables into 3 lines, what makes it special?
Well, let me get into why the 5-7-5 understanding of haiku is wrong, and also what makes haiku so special (with examples)!
First of all, Japanese doesn't have syllables! There's a few different names for what phonetic units actually make up the language- In Japanese, they're called "On" (音), which translates to "sound", although English-language linguists often call it a "mora" (μ), which (quoting from Wikipedia here) "is a basic timing unit in the phonology of some spoken languages, equal to or shorter than a syllable." (x) "Oh" is one syllable, and also one mora, whereas "Oi" has one syllable, but two moras. "Ba" has one mora, "Baa" has two moras, etc. In English, we would say that a haiku is made up of three lines, with 5-7-5 syllables in them, 17 syllables total. In Japanese, that would be 17 sounds.
For an example of the difference, the word "haiku", in English, has 2 syllables (hai-ku), but in Japanese, はいく has 3 sounds (ha-i-ku). "Christmas" has 2 syllables, but in Japanese, "クリスマス" (ku-ri-su-ma-su) is 5 sounds! that's a while line on its own! Sometimes the syllables are the same as the sounds ("sushi" is two syllables, and すし is two sounds), but sometimes they're very different.
In addition, words in Japanese are frequently longer than their English equivalents. For example, the word "cuckoo" in Japanese is "ほととぎす" (hototogisu).
Now, I'm sure you're all very impressed at how I can use an English to Japanese dictionary (thank you, my mother is proud), but what does any of this matter? So two languages are different. How does that impact our understanding of haiku?
Well, if you think about the fact that Japanese words are frequently longer than English words, AND that Japanese counts sounds and not syllables, you can see how, "based purely on a 17-syllable counting method, a poet writing in English could easily slip in enough words for two haiku in Japanese” (quote from Grit, Grace, and Gold: Haiku Celebrating the Sports of Summer by Kit Pancoast Nagamura). If you're writing a poem using 17 English syllables, you are writing significantly more content than is in an authentic Japanese haiku.
(Also not all Japanese haiku are 17 sounds at all. It's really more of a guideline.)
Focusing on the 5-7-5 form leads to ignoring other strategies/common conventions of haiku, which personally, I think are more interesting! Two of the big ones are kigo, a season word, and kireji, a cutting word.
Kigo are words/phrases/images associated with a particular season, like snow for winter, or cherry blossoms for spring. In Japan, they actually publish reference books of kigo called saijiki, which is basically like a dictionary or almanac of kigo, describing the meaning, providing a list of related words, and some haiku that use that kigo. Using a a particular kigo both grounds the haiku in a particular time, but also alludes to other haiku that have used the same one.
Kireji is a thing that doesn't easily translate to English, but it's almost like a spoken piece of punctuation, separating the haiku into two parts/images that resonate with and add depth to each other. Some examples of kireji would be "ya", "keri", and "kana." Here's kireji in action in one of the most famous haiku:
古池や 蛙飛び込む 水の音 (Furu ike ya kawazu tobikomu mizu no oto) (The old pond — A frog jumps in The sound of the water.)
You can see the kireji at the end of the first line- 古池や literally translates to "old pond ya". The "ya" doesn't have linguistic meaning, but it denotes the separation between the two focuses of the haiku. First, we are picturing a pond. It's old, mature. The water is still. And then there's a frog! It's spring and he's fresh and new to the world! He jumps into the pond and goes "splash"! Wowie! When I say "cutting word", instead of say, a knife cutting, I like to imagine a film cut. The camera shows the pond, and then it cuts to the frog who jumps in.
English doesn't really have a version of this, at least not one that's spoken, but in English language haiku, people will frequently use a dash or an ellipses to fill the same role.
Format aside, there are also some conventions of the actual content, too. They frequently focus on nature, and are generally use direct language without metaphor. They use concrete images without judgement or analysis, inviting the reader to step into their shoes and imagine how they'd feel in the situation. It's not about describing how you feel, so much as it's about describing what made you feel.
Now, let's put it all together, looking at a haiku written Yosa Buson around 1760 (translated by Harold G. Henderson)
The piercing chill I feel: my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom, under my heel
We've got our kigo with "the piercing chill." We read that, and we imagine it's probably winter. It's cold, and the kind of cold wind that cuts through you. There's our kireji- this translation uses a colon to differentiate our two images: the piercing chill, and the poet stepping on his dead wife's comb. There's no descriptions of what the poet is feeling, but you can imagine stepping into his shoes. You can imagine the pain he's experiencing in that moment on your own.
"But tumblr user corvidcall!" I hear you say, "All the examples you've used so far are Japanese haiku that have been translated! Are you implying that it's impossible for a good haiku to be written in English?" NO!!!!! I love English haiku! Here's a good example, which won first place in the 2000 Henderson haiku contest, sponsored by the Haiku Society of America:
meteor shower . . . a gentle wave wets our sandals
When you read this one, can you imagine being in the poet's place? Do you feel the surprise as the tide comes in? Do you feel the summer-ness of the moment? Haiku are about describing things with the senses, and how you take in the world around you. In a way, it's like the poet is only setting a scene, which you inhabit and fill with meaning based on your own experiences. You and I are imagining different beaches, different waves, different people that make up the "our" it mentioned.
"Do I HAVE to include all these things when I write haiku? If I include all these things, does that mean my haiku will be good?" I mean, I don't know. What colors make up a good painting? What scenes make up a good play? It's a creative medium, and nobody can really tell you you can't experiment with form. Certainly not me! But I think it's important to know what the conventions of the form are, so you can appreciate good examples of it, and so you can know what you're actually experimenting with. And I mean... I'm not the poetry cops. But if you're not interested in engaging with the actual conventions and limitations of the form, then why are you even using that form?
I'll leave you with one more English language haiku, which is probably my favorite haiku ever. It was written by Tom Bierovic, and won first place at the 2021 Haiku Society of America Haiku Awards
a year at most . . . we pretend to watch the hummingbirds
Sources: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)
Further reading:
Forms in English Haiku by Keiko Imaoka Haiku: A Whole Lot More Than 5-7-5 by Jack How to Write a Bad Haiku by KrisL Haiku Are Not a Joke: A Plea from a Poet Who Has Had It Up to Here by Sandra Simpson Haiku Checklist by Katherine Raine
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rainyvandragon · 3 months
Text
Oh those precious memories~
See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.
! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!
Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader
Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl
Charlie:
Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard
She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling
However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow
It doesn't even matter what
You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever
It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now
Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes
She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed
Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!
Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later
Unless she forgets again...
Vaggie:
She would never take anything you truly need or value
In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling
However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her
So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel
There was a movie night with everybody invited?
Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)
Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often
And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin
Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity
And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?
Angel:
Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!
Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it
He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex
So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind
But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent
As for other, less private things
It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them
If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick
Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress
Alastor:
Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings
He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches
Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling
As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him
One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions
If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods
However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs
Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases
Husk:
Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely
No instead he just checks for things you leave behind
Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that
You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)
At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on
Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't
The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!
Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it
Nifty:
Nifty is easily the worst of them all
She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that
What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)
Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush
Or rummage through your garbage bins
Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!
She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”
Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets
She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit
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Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.
English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.
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anon-confesses · 2 years
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My best friend and I are seniors who have never been to a highschool dance. I don't really care about that stuff, so I don't worry about it. She does care though; her dad is one of those "highschool is the best time of your life!" types and he keeps telling her to go, and she's become worried that she'll regret not going. However, neither of us has ever dated anyone and our introvertedness has kind of made it so there's no one we can really ask. I asked if she wanted to go stag with me, just so she could see what it was all about.
But she doesn't want to go stag with me to dances. From what I can tell, she would sooner not go at all then go alone with me. She thinks that if people see us together, they'll think she's a lesbian because of how obviously queer I am. I want to be understanding, but I just don't know what would be so bad about people thinking she's gay. What's wrong about being seen the way I'm seen? Why is it embarrassing or weird for her to be alone with me in public? It makes me feel dirty, and I can't help but feel like it explains why we hug at my house but never at school. I love who I am. I love that the way I dress reflects who I am. Why does she care more about what other people think than about me, her best friend of 10 years?
I feel so dumb about all of this because I didn't even want to go before, but to be turned down by my best friend because of who I am... It just stings so bad.
.
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