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spider999sposts · 10 months

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...while I kept you like an oath. —Miguel O'Hara

🕸previous writings: part 1

🕸synopsis: miguel is done keeping you his secret

🕸tags: fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara

🕸warning: suggestive dancing, but that's about it.

🕸authors note: wanted to make up for the asshole miguel in part 1!

It's been a full week. 7 days, 9 hours, and 10 minutes ever since what had unfolded at his birthday.

And not a single day passed without Miguel watching you.

He had his eyes glued to the monitors every night. Watching you in your own universe. You stopped being a superhero, and surprisingly that did not break the canon, everyone was allowed to take breaks after all.

Everyday he watched you. He watched you go back to your boring job as a photographer in that horrid journalism job some of your variants' kind share. He watched you grab your coffee in the afternoon, and he watched you interact with your co-workers. It made his blood boil whenever he saw one of them flirting or trying to make a move on you, and yet he could do nothing about it.

Events of the last day he saw you played in his head. The words 'I don't want to be with a man who is so horrified to be with me.' played in his head over and over, like it was some broken record. You just didn't get it, did you? Perhaps he was being too rough too. He might be standoffish and harsh, but he was self aware. Once he got over his pride, guilt washed over his senses. He spent two days of the seven trying to convince himself that nothing would happen to him if you never saw each other again.

And now here he was. At 2 AM. Staring at his monitors with blood red eyes. You'd realised early on that he would be watching you through your gizmo, so you turned it off. When you did, he asked Jess to go and set up a small device to make him be able to see you. Jess told him to just talk to you, but he somehow thought this was the better idea.

He rubbed his eyes. In your universe, the time was the same. It was the weekend tommrow, you were watching that god-awful hispanic soap opera you used to watch with him. You had dozed off on the couch, while the TV was still on.

"Um, boss, this isn't healthy.." LYLA chirped. Miguel rolled his eyes and got up, waving her away. She zipped to his other side to avoid having her hologram glitch. "You should speak for once."

"LYLA."

"I am just saying. You can't keep watching through monitors like a creeper! Do you know what we do with creepers? We gouge out their peepers—"

"Spare me." He moved away from her, getting off his platform. He knew his little assistant was right though. How come a man who is so obsessed with fixing things in the whole wide multiverse, cannot even muster up the courage to love you as loudly and proudly as he could? And to admit that he's wrong?

He needed to do something. And he needed to come up with it, quick.

----

Hobie visited you queit often after what transpired. You cried on his shoulder for a while, and he did everything he knew to do to comfort you. In his odd little ways.

Today was no different. You were sitting on your couch, eating some ice cream, when Hobie portalled in. It was an odd way to enter but you've gotten used to his antics.

"Hey, Hobie. Come sit, the show is about to start—"

"Oi, listen.." He sits next to you, his colours changing then finally setting on yellow. "Let's get ya out today, huh? I have a little something planned for you."

"I don't want to go to your punk concerts, Hobie, I get too overstimulated by all the—"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry, it ain't that," He couldn't believe he was doing this. Following orders. But he wouldn't do it if he knew it wouldn't help. "Just a little something. Some people in HQ miss you, ya know? We planned a little get together, thats all." That was half the truth at least.

You were a bit suspicious of him, but you put your ice cream aside. "Are there gonna be drinks?"

"Lots of em."

"The Unnamed?"

" 'M starting to think I got you addicted." He laughed, "Come on, get off your bum."

You 'got off your bum' and walked over to your room, changing the oversized shorts and tee to something a little more presentable. You returned after making sure your hair looked well and your face looked okay, noticing Hobie had already opened the portal.

He moved before you both could enter it, putting a blindfold around your eyes. "What's this for?"

"A kink of mine." He joked.

"I am older than you, y'know?"

"Age is a conceptual idea...unless you're a child, or something, then age is good...—I'm saying that children cannot mingle with adults even if age is—"

You laughed at his stumbling, and you patted...his chest? His shoulder? You couldn't really see. "I've got it, Hobie."

You heard him murmur under his breath, then he led you through the portal. You haven't felt this nauseous before, and it wasn't the universe-jumping.

When Hobie said some people in HQ miss you..he couldn't possibly mean him, right?

Your thoughts were intruppted when you felt the cold summer breeze on your bare skin. Hobie's hand left your shoulder, and you felt him move behind you. "Pretty chilly." And queit. A little too much.

When he removed the cloth from around your eyes, you got ingulfed in a tight embrace. By multiple people.

You could see tufts of blonde hair at your shoulder, and a pregnancy bump pressed against your side. There was also something..crawling.

When everyone loosened their grip, Mayday slid right into your arms. "Ah, that's where the crawling was coming from." You chuckled, giving her a little hug. "God, It's been a week and we already miss you." says Jess. She looked glowing. As she has the whole period of her pregnancy. A hand slung around your shoulder, "Yeah, Mayday and I missed you! Mayday especially. You know how she never eats her vegetable puree except when you feed it to her." You chuckled at Peter's comment. "I've missed you too, guys." You reached over and messed up Gwen's hair. After you caught up with your friends, a few other people came over and talked to you.

It was after a few moments that you realised that you were, once again, on the roof of the Spider Society HQ. It was a casual party it seems, like the ones you had every weekend. You looked over at Hobie and raised your brows. He grinned at you, and even though he was trying to play it cool, he knew you had him figured out. His colour changed from the usual grey to a pinkish hue.

"Hobie Brown, did you lure me here just to bring me back to the HQ?"

"A man never tells his secrets."

You chuckled, but took a long pause after. Your eyes met his for a moment.

"Did he tell you to bring me here?"

Hobie's colours went a deeper shade of pink, but he still had that stoic look on his face.

Before he could answer you, Gwen and Pavitir pushed him into the dance floor. He looked at you, almost remorseful. Just almost.

You did not see Miguel anywhere, so you just retreated to the bar, seeing that Lego Spiderman was bartending. You asked for Hobie's drink but he looked clueless to what you just ordered, so you just told him to grab you a soda. When he asked for what kind, you just set your head on the counter.

You could hear him trotting away.

You didn't want to be here. You didn't want to see him, and you knew Hobie probably has good intentions but you didn't want to return. At least this soon.

You sighed, but as soon as you raised your head, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Your senses were going off. Someone was watching you, and you had a pretty good idea on who it might be. Yet when you looked behind you, you saw nothing but the dancing crowd.

Unknown to you that Miguel was just a few steps away. Dodging your gaze as much as he could.

"Breath unregulated. Heartbeat rate is getting higher—"

"Give it a rest, LYLA."

"Maybe I will, but you need to go before you experience a stroke."

Bothered, he shooed her away, but she just appeared on his other side.

"Rude." She mumbled, adjusting her crooked glasses. "Come onnnn, the hard part was getting this whole thing planned right? And it's going so smoothly."

For an AI built by one of the multiverse's greatest geniuses, she had no idea how hard it was. For a man as prideful as him, admitting he is wrong is the hard part.

He just cleared his throat, and held his head up high as he made his way towards the counter.

He noticed the soda can you were sipping on, and a hum came out of him.

"No odd drinks today, It seems."

You chuckled. Sarcastically. And you didn't look at him.

'Comienzo brillante.' He thought.

He leaned on the counter, trying to get a look at you. You weren't even paying any attention to him. It bothered him, there was a feeling in his chest, clawing at him. He knows he deserves this, every action has its equal opposite reaction.

"You came back to my little club-house." That came out meaner than he meant it to be, but it was not his intention. It got you to go at him though. His features softened. Your eyes had a red hue around them, from all the crying, he presumed.

"I didn't. Hobie dragged me here."

For once in his life, Hobie listened to him. Maybe only because he realised how truly misrable Miguel was when he walked in on him watching you through the monitors.

"But you still came."

"I did not know where he was taking me." You replied shortly, putting down your soda. Miguel hummed, "I told him to bring you here."

That made you shoot a glare at him. Thank god, any reaction to his words was enough for him. It showed him that you still cared.

"Yeah, I guessed."

He raised his leg on the foot of your bar chair, and he leaned closer. This was odd. He was at a very close proximity to you, infront of everyone.

"We need to speak." He said firmly, tilting his head at you. "Do we only need to speak when you decide? What if I don't want to speak with you?" Oh, you were trying to get back at him. He couldn't lie, it irritated him. He was a patient man once, but that was long ago.

"But you do." His red irsis glanced at your lips. He was so close that you could smell his musky cologne. It took every muscle in your body not to react to him. You were furious with him, but you could not help it. Your body gave in naturally to him. Put both of you in the same room, and no matter how much you feel like you hate him, no matter how much he upset you, your attraction to Miguel was almost animalistic. Resisting him was like resisting the tides when the moon was closest to the earth.

Almost impossible.

"I–I don't." You didn't like faltering infront of him. You didn't want to show him how he has this hold on you.

Miguel reached up to your face, pushing a few strands of stray hair behind your ear. It was a gentle gesture, and a very obvious one. You pulled away, "What are you doing–"

"For God's sake–" He sighed when you pulled away. "–I...I'm trying to. I'm trying to do something."

"Do something? Miguel, it's been a week since you saw me and—and—" You stood up, your head at level with his chest. "You tell Hobie to bring me here just to play these mind games—"

"¡Dìos Mìo!, I am trying to apologise!"

That was a little too loud. He slammed his hand on the counter and the clap sound it made made some people turn their heads towards the both of you. But their stares didn't last long, Gwen had quickly moved to change the song as to distract them.

You were both staring at each other now. You were panting. His chest was heaving, you could feel his hot breath on the top of your head.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he only did when he was so stressed he couldn't think straight. He took in a deep breath, calming himself down. You could see it. How his face contorted and how the veins in his forehead stopped protruding.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, his fingers brushing against yours. "I'm sorry I called you childish, and made you feel naïve when that is not the case." He looked geniune, as geniune as the night he told you he loved you. "You were pretty reasonable. I was the one who.." He struggled a bit to spit it out, but when he did, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "...who was wrong."

You weighed his words for a moment.

"Okay." is all that came out of your mouth. Miguel felt like that was not enough.

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay."

"¿Quieres volverme loco?"

[Do you want to drive me mad?]

You laughed at his question. His harsh features softened at the sound.

"I accept your apology. Is there anything else you wanted to say?" He did not acknowledge your biggest concern. If you were to return to him, you were going to do it on your terms now, not his. And so far, putting aside the face–touching and the finger–brushing, he had not came front with how your relationship was to resume.

Miguel looked across the dance floor, and Hobie gave him a small nod. A song, very familiar to the both of you began playing.

Your eyes widened but you said nothing. Miguel, though, extending his hand to you.

"I owe you a dance,."

"Ah, no, sorry, I can't. You know we can't."

"Aye, Deja de ser terca, hermosa."

[Stop being stubborn, beautiful]

His eyes were practically pleading you. And maybe, just maybe, you couldn't keep up with this tension anymore.

You let him lead you to the dance floor. You felt the eyes of everyone on the both of you. The music got louder.

Miguel's strong arms wrapped around your waist, securing you near him. You both swayed to the beat. His head was lowered enough, you could hear him mumble the lyrics, "Y hemos de darnos un beso...Encerrados en la luna" He twirled you, then brought you back to his chest. "You're a good dancer." You mumbled to him, and he chuckled. "Thank you."

"And a good singer. Didn't know you liked to sing."

"I don't." His arms tightened around your waist, as his lips brushed against your ear. You gasped, your hand holding onto his bicep. "You can just say, I really like this song."

"Andale, eres secreto de amor..." He twirled you again, his hands seemed to get lower and lower by the minute. First they found the small of your back, then, you felt them around your hips. The beat of the song seemed to have changed completely. It was much more sensual now.

Miguel picked up on that, and he turned you around, hips grinding against yours. The friction made your legs wobble. You set your back against his hard chest, and when you did, he bucked forwards, still very much grinding against you. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, you could see how they were staring. Whispering.

"Miguel, they're watching u—" You felt his lips on your neck. He left a tender kiss under your ear, "I know." He whispered. "I thought—"

"You speak too much." He rasped out, his voice strained. You felt his hands roam around your hips again, and before you could register, he turned you around and set his forehead against yours. "I can't control myself around you. I don't like that." He began, closing his eyes. "I don't like not being in control."

"I know."

"But," His eyes opened, and this time, that look in his eyes that you couldn't decipher from last time was present. But you know what it was now.

Desire. Utter and pure desire.

"I'd rather not lose you over my pride."

That was it for you. You cupped his face, and he instantly knew what to do. With one hand pulling you in by the waist, and the other on your cheek. Your lips collided, and when they did, you forgot about space and time. He kissed you dizzy, like his only mission was to make you forget what he'd done, or at least, to make up for being such an asshole, and by the time he was done, you had already forgiven him.

"Swear on my mother, you need to get a room." came a sound from behind you. You laughed at Hobie's comment, but Miguel did not. However, he flashed you a playful, boyish grin. "For once, he is right."

"Miguel."

"Scientifically, it would make us feel better." His large palms squeezed your hips, and you squealed a little. "And you know, we should do it to make sure there are no negative underlying feelings."

"Ah."

"It would break the multiverse if we don't do it."

"And of course, the.." You imitated his voice, making it sound deeper than it actually is. "..'fate of the multiverse' is more important than everything, no?"

He cupped both your cheeks again, this tenderness was new. You could get used to this. "Not everything." He whispered.

There was a cold metal against your warm skin, you took a glance at his hand and smiled.

"You kept it."

"Ah, yes, my 'fucking' birthday gift." You shared a laugh, continuing to sway. He pulled a similar box to the one you gave him from his pocket, and handed it to you. You furrowed your brows, "What for?"

"Consider it an apology."

When you opened it, there was a ring similar to his. A promise ring just like the one you gave him.

Engraved inside was today's date. There were words engraved inside of it as well.

'Till the multiverse do us part.'

"Hm."

"You don't like it?"

"Very corny for a man like you."

"You're the one who gave me a promise ring first. We are not 17."

"And yet, you still wear it."

He chuckled at your remark.

"And yet, I still wear it."

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cycat4077 · 4 months

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Gator's room: foreshadowing & clues

I went back to take a look at the scene of Gator in his room. While the "flag", girly posters, blaring heavy metal and handcuffs were an immediate stand out to all of us, I wanted to have a look to see if there were any other clues to who Gator is.

First up, here's his room:

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR EPISODES 1-8

Let's look a little closer at the obvious foreshadowing.

Based on the previews and the Instagram post from the makeup artist (along with the subtle nods to Oedipus), it appears Ole Munch is going to torture Gator. We see him holding a knife to his eyes, and in the original trailer, Gator is bloody and blindfolded while being led by a noose.

Gator's own posters, decor, and drawings seem to depict this fate.

#1 The poster immediately behind his shoulder depicts a man with no eyes - potentially gouged out.

#2 The drawing below it has the eyes blocked out in colours that suggest necrotic (dead) tissue.

#3 The animal skull on his wall obviously has no eyes.

The Oedipus parallel and removal of his peepers were foreshadowed right in Gator's room from episode 3.

Linda's fate (mommy issues)

We learned in the last episode that Linda is dead. Roy tells Dot that he can burry Dot right next to Linda. When Dot confronts Gator and tries to win him over via his mother, Gator gets visibly emotional and shaken. We see hope and heartache run through him simultaneously. I think Gator knows instinctively that his mother is dead, but some small part of him hopes she is still out there.

I also think Gator's drawings depict his mother.

#1 This drawing not only depicts a person with eyes blacked out, but the drawing is clearly of a woman - possibly a corpse. She has breasts and long hair but is drawn in purples, reds, and blues; colours that represent bruises, blood, and dying flesh.

#2 The other drawing with missing eyes is also of a woman. This drawing once again has long hair, but she is smiling.

Perhaps Gator accidentally saw his mother's dead body. He has a drawing that represents a scary corpse (reality) and one that represents an almost comical one. Maybe the smile is how he tries to remember Linda - dead but somehow still smiling for him.

Other little things

#1 Robbed of childhood innocence. Gator's room is filled with "tough boy" items: swimsuit model photos, car photos, alcohol, heavy metal posters, etc. But he also has children's toy cars. The hot rod photos are in direct contrast to the toy cars on his shelf. The boy trapped inside the man. A boy robbed of his childhood by abuse and traumatic events.

#2 Jack Skellington. I'm probably one of the only people on the planet who have not yet watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, but the Jack Skellington parallels go beyond just the mask Gator wore. To me, it looks like he also drew Jack - and yet another reference to death. The skull's mouth is sewn shut too, just like Gator is sworn to obey his father and not speak the truths about what Roy has done.

#3 Red or Blue Pill? Again, I have failed to watch yet another classic film: the Matrix. But this poster seems to be a clear reference to it, I think.

According to Google, "The red pill and blue pill represent a choice between the willingness to learn a potentially unsettling or life-changing truth by taking the red pill or remaining in the contented experience of ordinary reality with the blue pill."

And if there's anyone with the last name of Tillman who will be forced to see reality (and potentially change), it is Gator. Gator will likely be forced this "red pill" by Ole Munch, either finally seeing the reality of his father's ways, or by becoming the next sin eater.

Whatever the outcome, the poster must have some sort of meaning!

That's all for now 😊 But I really love all the subtleties in this show! It's fantastically written and acted, and Joe is doing such an exceptional job playing this mutli-layered and morally ambiguous character of Gator!

***EDIT***

A post by @familyfriendlyhoho got me thinking about the drawing on Gator's wall. I was thinking that his drawings represent his dead mother, Linda and that he may have accidentally seen her corpse. The post theorizes that:

"I feel like Gator knew Linda was dead. but worst, I feel like Roy showed it to him."

And I think that this is the most-likely scenario. Roy is sinister enough to do something like that to his own son. I can imaging Roy telling Gator to stop being a loser and become a winner and, to drive the point home, he could have led Gator to Linda's corpse warning "this is what happens to losers".

If so, Gator's drawings would depict the corpse he witnessed. Even here, before Gator gives himself the "I'm a winner" pep talk, we see him glance towards the drawing - a reminder of what happens to losers. He then feels the need to convince himself that he is not one, despite what his father says.

#fargo season 5 #fargo fx #fargo s5 #fargo spoilers #fargo #gator tillman #joe keery

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starwrighter · 8 months

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I am not a baby!! (yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (previous) (next)

(Chapter ten baby!!!!)

Danny isn't stupid. He knew Giga Fish was still here somewhere. Watching him... Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, oxygen ticking lower and lower as he darted back into the semi-safety of his base.

A backpack full of peepers and bladderfish smelled awful. Getting the fishy smell out of his suit was going to take ages! Bladder fish are natural water filters. The fabricator draws out drinkable water from the fish's well...Bladder. Ancients, he hoped the fabricator sterilized this with its little lasers.

Non vegan water...

Sam would have a conniption fit, Tucker would love everything about it. He'd find a way to contact them soon if they didn't find him first. The earful he would get from Jazz might just be worse than his giant stalker. Getting lectured by Jazz would be preferred over sitting here with a gigantic fish a few dozen meters away. At least with Jazz, he knew she cared about him. He didn't know what the big guy wanted from him. Danny wasn't exactly a snack you'd travel through the sea for.

Whatever the guy wanted, Danny didn't care. As long as they both stuck to themselves, things would go just fine...

Peeking through the curtain, Danny saw the massive eel-like fish curled up, staring directly at his base.

Danny really wanted to study the guy. What were his eating habits? He didn't seem to be interested in eating any of the fish around him. Both the sharp teeth at the front of his maw and the shiny bioluminescent stripes that drew fish closer to him suggested a carnivore, but his complete disinterest conflicted with this.

Could a fish be vegetarian? A fish capable of sentience like this one probably could, but Danny didn't want to shove his head in the lion's mouth to test that.

Drawing on his PDA, Danny sketched out the blueprints for a table with a trash bin that slotted into the left side. Two air-tight cabinets were built into it. One smaller one underneath the trash bin and one larger, like a fridge on the right. In the middle was a collapsible set of stairs that'd allow him to reach the top of the table. Maybe making the table shorter would be more convenient, but giving up that extra storage space along with his dignity would be too much for him right now. The table top was a bit too empty for his liking, so he added small drawers at the back edge of the table. A perfect place to store small blades and silverware when he created the blueprints for them. Overall, it was much more like a workstation with built-in storage than a table, but Danny still planned to eat his meals here just as he planned to prepare them.

The fabricator would've been sufficient to cook his meals, but the lasers vaporized the shit out of the organs and bones of the fish. Anything nonedible in a fish's body turned to dust. The dusted ligaments and organs gave the meat a medical taste, like using hydrogen peroxide as mouthwash. Sure, the lasers were cool, but what was the point of cooking if your food tasted like high-tech sadness? It was bad enough that the only seasoning he had was salt. He didn't need his food to taste like it was made in a lab. Gutting his own fish was a necessity. Anything he couldn't eat could be tossed outside for the carnivores to snack on. They deserved a little treat for dealing with his stupidity.

Danny built his little table close to his fabrication station, ensuring it was anchored to the floor and wall. An unsteady piece of furniture could flatten him into an ugly pancake. If his friends were here, they'd agree he looked much cuter when he's only fifty percent dead.

Quickly stepping up to the table with his backpack full of fish, he unsheathed his survival knife... The knife would've been so much more effective than his teeth when he fought the big guy. Danny fought the urge to facepalm. What's done is done, he bit someone like a feral raccoon, but everything worked out!

Gutting fish was more difficult than he'd expected it to be. It was hard to tell if his lack of experience or now tiny hands were what made the task feel a thousand times harder. Peeper blood was yellow, but his own was still a vibrant red that dripped onto the table with every slip of the hand. It felt like a fishing trip with Dad, only without the forty-minute lecture on the dangers of ghost fish.

Running his hands over the now gutted Peepers, Danny used all the power he could muster, freezing them solid. Spots danced in his peripherals, the floor spinning underneath him like a carousel. It took a minute or two to regain his composure. Sitting on the ground with his frozen fish head pounding, face flushed red. Forcing his powers was like trying to drink scalding hot coffee through a toothpick-thin straw. It left him out of breath, fingertips burning with no evidence of damage.

There was an ecto dampener on this planet, he was certain of that. One stronger than any of the ones his parents had built. A radius that reached far past the planet's atmosphere yet still remained potent enough to prevent any significant power usage.

Unfortunately for whoever put the field up, it didn't cancel out his powers completely. Maybe if it did, he would have died completely, saving the culprit or culprits from being mauled. If Danny was anything, he was a stubborn bastard, and there was no amount of dampening that would stop him from clawing the faces of whatever had the audacity to do this! If he had access to his powers he could've saved everyone!

Over a hundred people died because he wasn't strong enough to save them! Because he was prevented from saving them. Ships like the Aurora don't just crash and burn for no reason. Alterra might skimp out a bit on employee safety, but the engineers they hired for serious maintenance were top-of-the-line. Underpaid, but top of the line, they wouldn't make a mistake that could cause that much damage. The way the ship shook, it felt like something had hit them. Everything about this seemed more and more suspicious the more thought he put into it.

For now all he could do was survive in hopes of finding some kind of lead. Finding and stopping whatever was stifling his powers was number three on his to-do list. Just above studying the wildlife but below finding other survivors and surviving himself.

First things first was rations! Both he and any other survivor would need food and water. While he was set with his... questionably hygienic water, fabricating more was a necessity. Giga fish was still out there, Danny could feel eyes on him whenever he passed the glass. All it would take was a split decision to plop his tail in front of the hatch, and Danny was trapped in here to either starve or dry out like a sponge under a sunlamp.

Coral samples and crumbling chunks of salt were taken by the fabricator, turned into bleach within the blink of an eye. The PDA screamed at him, a pitch that could've made his ears bleed. Warnings flashed on screen, the AI desperately pleading with him not to put the substance anywhere near his face. A wild contradiction to the PDA entrance that recommended using it to disinfect his wounds.

Only when he used the bleach to fabricate more water did the tablet stop screaming. The water smelt chemical, and it tasted vaguely of metal coins. Like the overpriced bottled waters, you'd find at an airport vending machine. Laying the bottles on their sides, he stashed them away in the cabinet, placing frozen peepers between each layer. Cold water wasn't a luxury he'd be willing to give up, nor was it something he'd give himself a mind-splitting headache over. So the obvious solution was to turn the cabinet into a disturbing refrigerator with dead fish eyes that stared into the deepest depths of his soul!

Nobody ever said survival was aesthetically pleasing.

Walking back to the window, Danny stares flatly at the curtain. Apparently, the whole "You can't see me, therefore I no longer exist," rule didn't work on this guy, so the curtain was completely useless. Peeking past the cloth, he could see the fish staring at him. Didn't even bother to hide, just sat there like he didn't belong hundreds of meters down doing anything else.

If watching him gave this guy joy, he's going to do something nobody could be entertained by. No longer should he be the comedian for giga fish! He was going to do something so drastic, something he'd only done sparely over the past year! He was going to...

Sleep!

He collapsed down onto the floor, curling himself up with the low-hanging curtains. Spite made it all the easier for him to fall asleep.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet

#You can't tell me the fabricator make anything that tastes good #dpxdc #dp x dc #subnautica au #dcxdp #dc x dp #Damian's going to get a mean nickname if he keeps things up

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gone-by · 2 years

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Britt Ekland in Night Child (1972)

#Britt Ekland #Night Child #What The Peeper Saw #1970s #70s #sunglasses #screencaps #70s fashon

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deerspherestudios · 8 months

Note

Hey! I just recently met and went through the demo of "Mushroom Oasis", and I already have so many questions! I hope I won't be too intrusive. You may not answer some questions if the answers contain spoilers.

Questions about the game: 1.Will it be possible to choose the MC gender? Is it possible to choose the gender of the cat in the same way? It's just that when I started the game, I named the cat after my cat and it was a little funny to me when the pronoun of the cat was "she" when my cat is male.

Will we be able to choose some kind of "style" for the MC, according to the type of clothing, at the beginning of the game?

Questions about Michael:

Does he see the world like an ordinary person? I mean he has 2 pairs of eyes and 3 pairs of pupils. And it baffles me.

If the MC suddenly goes out alone and doesn't come back by midnight, will Mychael worry about the MC and will he go looking for the MC?

How does Mychael feel about piercings and tattoos? Does he know about it? If so, would he like a piercing/tattoo?

I wonder where Mychael gets things for the house. That is, I saw that he had a broom, thread and knitting needles. Where did he get them???

If Mychael saw me (I'm 164 cm tall and I have red hair), would he think I'm some kind of witch, because of the color of my hair, or something like that? How would he react if he saw me?

And sorry for the mistakes, I used google translator. English is not my native language :( I also want to say that I am your fan from Latvia (I don’t know why I’m saying this, I just want to please you with the fact that you have a fan from the Baltic countries)

Oop!! Ty for the questions!! Let me try and answer em under the cut, since it might end up as a pretty long post hahaha. But hi hello!!! I'm always happy to know where my fans come from, it's always a surprise for me to see people around the globe enjoy my silly little game ;v;

Questions about the game:

1. Will it be possible to choose the MC gender? Is it possible to choose the gender of the cat in the same way?

Being nonbinary, I just choose not to mention pronouns when writing for the game, so anyone can fit in their shoes. Unless it comes to a point where I have to use it, I'll probably code in a pronoun tool but for now it doesn't seem necessary! As for the cat, that's a good suggestion. Perhaps I'll try coding it in for the next update so the cat can be male or female, according to player preference!

2. Will we be able to choose some kind of "style" for the MC, according to the type of clothing, at the beginning of the game?

Probably not, as I'm not really good at setting that up in Ren'Py. I did make an MC design though! But what they look like is entirely up to you. I've drawn a POV shot of them wearing jeans and sneakers but that's about it. They can look however you like!

Questions about Mychael:

1. Does he see the world like an ordinary person?

He does! Trigger warning for unsettling iris images if you wanna look this up, but his bottom pair is kinda what people with polycoria has. Except it's normal for him, and not really a condition. His vision is normal, he just has lotsa peepers.

2. If the MC suddenly goes out alone and doesn't come back by midnight, will Mychael worry about the MC and will he go looking for the MC?

Yes? He didn't save you just to have you running off into danger again. He'd absolutely track you down and find you.

3. How does Mychael feel about piercings and tattoos? Does he know about it? If so, would he like a piercing/tattoo?

He knows about it, but not enough to really understand how it works! He finds it fascinating humans decorate their bodies with shiny beads and jewels, and turn their skin into tapestries for art. He'd probably assume you can take them off any time and that the tattoos are drawn onto the skin.

I don't imagine he'd want a piercing, but he'd probably try a tattoo! (Until he realizes it's ink going under the skin, in which case he might change his mind haha)

4. I wonder where Mychael gets things for the house. Where did he get them???

He has his ways ::-)

5. How would he react if he saw me?

He wouldn't be reacting much to how you look. You're not the first human he's seen! He's been around plenty of them, but you'd be one of the few he's interacted with the longest. And that's what makes you stand out more than anything else.

Phew that was a big ask!! But thank you for the interest :-D!! Hope everything's good in Latvia!

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #cheea chatter #bts

239 notes · View notes

rinbowaman · 9 months

Text

ↀOUBLE IIROUBLE - CHAPTER FIVE

Warnings: um...yeah...some non-con stuff turned to consensual. read at your own risk, (still a good read though) you all know how i like a good dark fic...this one aint no different but done worry, it gets good. Not proofread...my excuse this time is bc the power outage.....so...yeah. lol.

@heeshees - you're going to like this one. This will be your chapter ;)

@nikstrange - girl with all those edits you be sending me...you're next. lol. dont worry boo...i got you.

Walking out through the double door exit, you saw the parked car before you the moment you stepped out. Heeseung gets out of the front passenger seat and opens the door to the back for you, flashing you with a warm and closed-mouth smile, greeting you as he cradles you into the back seat before returning to his own beside Heejeong.

“How was work?”

“It was good, thanks.” You faintly returned the smile as you settle in the seat.

Heejeong was driving this time. While you placed your seatbelt on, he turns back to make eye contact and inquires how your day went.

“Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah I did, a little busy but good. Thanks.”

Once Heeseung was settled in his own seat, the brothers both paired a soft smile as Heejeong begins driving off, while Heeseung inquires what you were craving for dinner.

“Anything in particular you want for dinner?”

“Mmm no not really, whatever you guys feel like having is fine.”

“Oh come girl, we’ve been choosing since you moved in. It’s your turn, tell us…” turning around in his seat, while you sat directly behind, Heeseung peeks back at you. Leaning slightly backwards, his shoulder blades hovering over the center console as his head gently grazes over Heejeong’s shoulder, he displays a toothy grin with narrow eyes as he nudges his chin to you. With the hand that was closest to your leg, he reaches over and gently places his palm right on the edge of your kneecap.

“What do you want? Baby….sis?”

You smiled and chuckled nervously at his tone, his words, and the physical contact. Yet the roughness of his hand against your bare skin felt relaxing…and thrilling at the same time. The scent of his and Heejeong’s cologne combined made of the perfect scent as Heejeong’s coolness and the spice of Heeseung’s warmth made up for a pleasant combination.

His touch was stirring something inside you, but who could possibly blame you? Both men were attractive, smart, successful, and kind. The fact that you were becoming their stepsister was a huge bonus considering they were extra nice to you.

Far too….nice…..

Gently rubbing his fingertips along your skin, swaying them back and forth, he snaps you out of your dazed state as his tranquil voice hits you like a ton of bricks. It was too calm, almost sentimental….personal….and even sensual.

“Hmm? Sis? You still thinking about what it is…..we can get you?” His toothy grin transitions to a subtle closed mouth smirk as his narrow eyes widened just a tad, staring right into the depths of your soul through your own peepers.

“Umm….should we get Indian food?”

Smiling once more, Heeseung nods, as did Heejeong.

“That sounds good, Indian food it is! We know a really good spot.” Heejeong remarks as he steers the wheel effortlessly with one hand, while resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped against the window.

……….

The boys didn’t lie, they did know of a good spot. You would have never had thought to try out the street food vendors, but once they introduced you to one, ran by a friendly couple that hailed from the beautiful lands of India, you were amazed at just how sensational the food was.

“Do you know what you want? We can order for you if you like?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Oh I know you will…”

Smirking while speaking lowly, staring while you gazed at the menu hoisted right under the canopy of the food stall, you didn’t catch his response.

“Hmm? Sorry did you say something?”

“Nah, just speaking aloud while reading the menu.” He chuckles as he smiles down at you. His smile, it was so dashing with the way he peered down from his height, scoffing just a tad bit of that smooth and mellow voice as he swipes his tongue over the top row of his teeth. He looked so smooth and handsome, yet bashful at the same time.

“You guys ready?” Heejeong looks back with the same smile, reaching out to you and Heeseung. You both walk up to meet with him at the window, where he continued to dash a devilish smile as he faintly bites down on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, we’re ready. Just get Y/n the same as us.”

“You got it.” Heejeong responds handsomely as he turns back to the gentleman at the window and places the order.

The three of you chose a double benched, picnic table where you sat right next to Heejeong and across from Heeseung.

The owner of the food vendor stall brought out the dishes that Heejeong and Heeseung recommended. The smell was delightful, not to mention, it was a dish that brought you a sense of nostalgia, as you recognize the ingredients. It was a traditional dish that you were fond of, but it had been so long since you last had it.

Chole Kulche, your favorite.

“Do you know what this is?” Heeseung raised a brow and looked at you with an admiring gaze, watching as you looked at the dish.

“Yeah…yeah I do.” You nodded slightly as you faintly chuckled. It was a dish that you enjoyed immensely and had brought out your love for Indian food to begin with.

Chuckling, Heeseung rests his chin in his palm as he props his elbow next to his plate. "Hmm...then tell me princess…what’s the name of it?” he teasingly asks, testing the accuracy of your knowledge and honesty in a playful and flirtatious manner.

“Chole Kulche.” You chuckled back.

Smiling, he maintained sitting upright in his posture while his chin rested against his palm, blinking with satisfaction. “Good girl…you even know how to pronounce it correctly.” He finishes and he winks at you.

The three of you dined and enjoyed the evening with laughter, just like always, with every meal. They kept you entertained with stories of their childhood, which revealed the development of their close bond as they shared their most valuable moments together, which had always reflected the both of them relying on one another as each other’s backbone. You couldn’t deny it, it had made you a bit jealous seeing as you lacked that sibling bond growing up.

“Are you excited for the wedding?” Heeseung asked as he sips out of his cup, his eyes lingering on you while he raises his brows.

“Yeah I’m pretty excited….its good for my mom that she found your guys dad. I was starting to get a little worried since she had been without any companionship for a while.” You remarked seldomly, taking note of the solid gaze that the brothers issued to one another at the mentioning of your mother being with their father, Danny.

You didn’t know what to make of the look, but it didn’t seem to be one of pleasant value, considering it was a stern and dissatisfying look. So much, that it propelled you to return the question right back.

“What about you guys?”

Heeseung looks down at his plate and smirks, while Heejeong spoke for the both of them. “We are thrilled to have you and your mother apart of the family.”

Leaving it at that simple statement, you watched as the two went silent and focused on eating, which left you nodding and not pushing for any more questions, you had sensed that you were breaching a sour subject since it was no secret that they had a troubling bond with their father, that was made evident since the first dinner you had with them. Yet you didn’t know why since their father, Danny, had seemed like a jewel, he was nice to your mother and very caring towards you as a father would be to his own daughter.

You had wondered if they had harbored some sort of grudge, perhaps it had something to do with the divorce of their parents, which you had wondered about but never brought up, and from the looks of it, it was best not to. From experience, you knew that divorce between is never easy to handle, especially for a child, much less two siblings.

“Oh, um…how are Yeon Jin and Sa-ra doing?” You asked, changing the subject rather abruptly, breaking the silent awkwardness.

Both boys looked at you with rather wide eyes, yet their look wasn’t so surprising, just simply stared as if they had no idea what you were referring to until Heeseung finally answered. “They’re good.”

“Are they coming to the wedding?”

“Maybe….we’ll see.” Heeseung takes a bite of his food before grabbing a napkin and wiping his fingers as he takes another glance over towards Heejeong, who faintly, nods.

………..

Once you all had arrived at the house, you opted to go straight to bed, seeing as you had an early morning.

“Good night.”

“Night sweet thing.” Heeseung issues as you walk up the stairs.

“Let us know if you need anything.” Heejeong adds.

With a quick shower, brushing your teeth and changing, you plopped yourself on the bed and sunk into the feeling of being enveloped by the cool silk sheets.

Resting your eyes, your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming text. Gazing at the message that you had just received, you saw that it was from Kurt, who expressed how good it was to see you again.

“…Hmm…I wonder….” You mentally noted as you came up with an idea and messaged back.

…………………………………��……………

The morning of the wedding, you aid your mother with her gown and her veil as she takes her bouquet.

“Oh Y/n, you look so pretty, my girl.” Your mother smiles, admiring the simple, floral midi dress you had on. The coloration of fuchsia and violet bounced off the white background of the satin material, it was the perfect dress to adorn for your mother’s wedding, yet you made her swallow her words as you remarked that the beauty, was her.

“Mama, you look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”

Walking her over to the alter, behind the grand double doors, you enter through the side as you walk over towards the front row to find your seat, where the boys had already been waiting.

Breaching up, they were seated at the center of the row. Heejeong’s back was facing you, while Heeseung was seated right next to him, facing your direction. Sitting with his legs loosely crossed and his arm resting atop the backing of the seat rest, leaning in as he spoke quietly to Heejeong, you watched as Heeseung suddenly stops his sentence and gawks the very moment he saw you. Heejeong turns and displays the same reaction.

It was the first they had seen you all morning, much less in that dress that had everyone swooning over you as they watched you walk up, front and center. You couldn’t lie to yourself, the way the two dashing young men noted and stared at you made your heart skip a beat. They looked so dashing with their black suit and tie, it was almost hard to breathe at the sight of them side by side.

Standing up, Heejeong walks over to you as you remained at the edge of the row. Extending a hand out to you, you gently hold on as he greets you with a flashing smile.

“Well hello there, don’t you look pretty today.”

Leading you to the center of the row, he seats you in the center, right in between him and Heeseung, where your back was met with the latter’s arm as it remained in place atop the back rest.

“Hi.” He flirtatiously issues as he flashes a grin.

“Hi.” You chuckled back and fluttered your eyelashes. You couldn’t help but respond back in a flirtatious manner, the boy had it coming, yet you figured some harmless and minor teasing wouldn’t be too bad, so long as it remained within limitations considering that you were now family, despite not related by blood.

Taking a deep inhale of your perfume, Heeseung slightly groans as he finally exhales out. “You look soooo….beautiful.” His eyes trail down and sets home on your exposed thighs as your dress slightly rides up from your seated stance.

“Thank you. You both look very handsome; I like your suits.” You chuckled as you set your gaze at the podium where the priest was preparing for the ceremony.

During the ceremony, everyone admired at how beautiful your mother looked with her white gown, and Danny standing across, genuinely smiling in bleak happiness. As they took their vows, you noticed how Heejeong and Heeseung both smiled in your direction. Releasing a chuckle while maintaining your gaze at the bride and groom, you merely used your peripherals to gleam a soft peek at the two boys next to you. Softly placing his hand on your thigh, his thumb gently stroking up and down your skin, Heejeong leans into your ear and whispers, “You would look so pretty in a wedding dress.”

Raising a brow as you gave a nervous smile, you bashfully chuckled quietly as you raised a hand and slightly covered your mouth. It was the most flattering compliment you ever received, too bad it had to come from your stepbrother…at least one of them.

“I don’t think I’d look as pretty as mom though.” You modestly responded back.

“Yeah?.....I beg to differ.” His voice going lower, he whispers right back without missing a beat. His words caused you to look over to him and give a soft smile as your eyes trailed off to the side once you saw his handsome gaze, deeply admiring your face.

Sure, it was obvious to you that your stepbrothers may have thought you were attractive, and they were nice to you, practically at your beck and call if you ever needed them to be, yet still, it was hard to avoid giving in each time they coated you with such kind words. But you knew it was going to have to stop, or at least tone down at some point, and perhaps it will during the banquet….

……………………………

Seated at the beautifully adorned round tables, you noticed the placards resting in front of each chair, drafted in delicate calligraphy were the names of each guest, and just as you had secretly arranged….

“Hey, y/n. I’m finally here, sorry I missed the ceremony, but I’m glad I could make it in now.”

You had invited Kurt, as a manner to introduce him to the family since you had recently decided to give him a chance and accept his offer to begin a relationship.

“Oh no worries, here come and meet my family.” You took him by the hands and brought him over to your mother and Danny first, seeing as your two brothers had excused themselves momentarily from the dining setting and went to the open bar.

“Mom, Danny, this is Kurt. We went to high school together and have recently met up.”

“Oh Kurt! I remember you! My gosh it’s been a while! How are you?” Your mother gasped out as she stood from her seat and greeted Kurt with a welcoming hug.

“I’m good Mrs….um…”

“Lee, it’s Lee.” You whispered.

“Lee! Mrs. Lee.” He laughs out.

“Oh its okay, you can call me *your mom’s name here*. This is Danny, my husband.”

Danny stands and welcomes Kurt with a soft smile and a warm handshake. “It’s so nice to meet you, we’re so glad you could make it.”

“Thank you Sir. Congratulations to you both.” Kurt responds back. Conversing with your mother and Danny, your mother pulls you off to the side faintly and inconspicuously whispers, “are you two dating?” to which you nodded.

“We just started a few days ago, he came back to town and we hit it off really well.” You elaborated as you watched Kurt and Danny converse rather enthusiastically about work and Kurt’s travels.

Walking up were Heeseung and Heejeong. You couldn’t be sure with the frenzy that was crowding around, but it looked as if the two boys had harsh looks on their faces as they took notice of Kurt speaking with Danny.

“Oh gosh….can’t they just let things go for one day and be courteous towards their father? It’s your guy’s wedding day.” You whispered to your mother.

“Shh..I know. Just let it be, Its alright.” Your mother whispers back as she holds your hand and rubs it.

“Boys, come meet Kurt, this is uh....” Danny started, bashfully smiling as he caught himself in a tight spot. Kurt smiled back and extended a hand for a welcoming handshake to Heejeong first.

“Hi there, I’m Kurt.”

Heejeong merely looked down at Kurt’s hand before glaring back up at him….then over to you.

Taking the man’s hand, he shakes it softly, but grips hard. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joey.” Heejeong responds back, faintly smiling.

Kurt remained courteous and a good sport as he extends his hand over to Heeseung, who didn’t look much more pleased than his brother. In fact, the moment Kurt had shifted his hand over, Heeseung had all but then rolled his eyes as he took in Kurt’s introduction with Heejeong.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kurt.” He says once more, smiling as brightly as ever.

Heeseung’s face was tilted off to the side, slightly leaned back with a flare of rough attitude as his eyes glared in your direction. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, displayed thorugh the slightly parted lips, he takes Kurt by the hand and shakes it while introducing himself.

“Nice to mee you…..I’m Ethan.” His voice just as low, if not, lower than Heejeong’s.

“Wow, twins huh? My cousin just gave birth to twins.” Kurt smiles as he attempts to make small talk with your brothers, who remained stagnant with their strict expressions, barely making eye contact with Kurt, instead, they kept glaring over at you.

You figured they were disappointed that you hadn’t told them about Kurt sooner, though it wasn’t your fault, you had only just began dating him a few days ago, a day after when you had texted him, inviting him to the wedding. The next day you had both went out for coffee after your brothers had dropped you off. Kurt was so very kind that you had felt it would be a missed opportunity if you hadn’t taken up his offer. The moment he held your hand across the table at the café was when you knew that that was the chance to take and begin a relationship anew.

Since there was so much to do in preparations for the nuptials, you spent most of the days helping your mother, leaving you no chance to tell your brothers that you now had a boyfriend. Yet you figured that they would eventually welcome Kurt the more they get to know him, assuming that they were displaying a level of a protective nature as brothers.

“Yeah, so…how do you know y/n? Do you guys work with each other?” Heejeong inquires, glancing a wide eyed look over to you before flashing it back to Kurt.

That look…..it was….

“What the Hell was that?”

You mentally noted the outline of Heejeong’s wide eyes and that rather amusing and yet….eerie look that he had just a second ago as he shifted his sights between you and Kurt.

“Oh well….y/n and I went to high school together a while back. I recently just came back to town and met up with her and….well…we hit it off so we just…you know.” Kurt begins to chuckle as he commits a half turn and glances over to you, smiling.

“….No….I don’t know…..enlighten me.” Heejeong spoke as he crosses his arms.

“Oh, um well…we haven’t made it publicly known yet…but um-“

“We’re dating.” You interjected softly. Crossing your own arms, you issued a stern glance of your own back to your two brothers, who both looked at you unpleasantly with stares of anger and disappointment as their countenance reflected their response to your defiance.

“Oh speaking of which, where is Yeon-jin and Sa-ra?” Danny inquires as he looks over to his twin sons.

“They were busy.” Heeseung remarks, crossing his arms, joining the shared stance that you and Heejeong both committed. A battle of harsh stares was exchanged between the three of you.

“Oh boy….it’s going to be an awkward night at the house….” You noted.

…………………………..

The banquet went along well, aside from you and your brothers hardly speaking to one another, yet that didn’t deter from them looking at you nearly the entire time. Only this time, there were no flashing smiles, no chuckles, no affectionate display of gentleness or humor.

“You want a ride home?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah that’ll be nice.” You respond back, not even caring to glance over to your two new brothers.

……………

“They’ll get over it. I can understand being so protective, but this is absurd.”

……………

Dropping you off, you leaned over for a hug, unexpectedly, Kurt places a soft and quick kiss on your lips. Shocked, you chuckled as he bashfully stares at the steering wheel.

“Sorry….I just…I don’t know…” he laughs.

“It’s okay….” You bit your lip as you chuckled once more. Leaning in, you whispered out. “Should we try again?”

Meeting you halfway, your faces reunite in a gentle motion. He kisses you passionately as he reaches up and cups your face as you rest your elbow on the center console.

“See you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Sure.” You smiled as you tapped his chin.

Bidding goodbye, you walked into the house. All the lights were off, signifying the boys were asleep in their rooms, which gave you a sense of relief, since you three had split from the wedding banquet in extreme awkwardness, not even saying goodbye to each other. As you walked upstairs, you revisited the idea of possibly looking for your own place, seeing as the boys may present an issue if they don’t check their attitudes in regards to you dating Kurt. You’re a grown woman, how could they not be realistic about you dating? You could understand about them being slightly concerned, yet you knew Kurt for years, not to mention their attitude was uncalled for. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to bother Kurt, or perhaps he didn’t take notice, if he did, he was at least a good sport about it and never mentioned it to you.

Quietly entering your bedroom, you tossed your jacket on the lounge chair and began to unbuckle your heels.

“So…”

Your breath hitched as you turned around to the deep voice that emerged from behind, it was Heeseung. Standing by the door, camouflaged in the shadows as he was still wearing his suit from the wedding, he propped himself against the wall with his arms crossed, only the sliver sheen of light from outside peering through the window, provided the source of light for you to make out just a tad bit of his frame and face.

“Wh-what are you doing?....” you asked, still recovering from the shocked fright he gave you.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

His attitude irked you, so much that you decided enough was enough.

“Heeseung….what’s your guys deal? I get it we’re family now, but….I’m a grown woman. With that being said, I’m going to start looking for my own place because this is getting out of hand-“

Cutting you off, his sharp tone inhibited you from finishing your thought.

“Come again?....”

“….I said I’m going to be moving out….and that you both need to not act the way you did earlier….”

“Oooh yes….lets talk about that.” Straightening his posture, he uses his foot to push his frame off the wall as he starts walking towards you, with his arms remaining crossed, he leans in….closely, the light glaring through the window closest to you permitted the sight of his face, which had a smirk….but it was far from dashing or handsome, it was rather crazy, sadistic even…..it was twisted and frightening.

“Lets talk….about today…..hmm?.....Princess?”

“…Don’t….dont call me that….in fact, stop with these pet names…”

“Awww…..that right?....BABY?”

Feeling a sudden grab and tug, you felt his hands wrap around your wrist harshly as he pulls you against his body.

“Wh-what are you doing?! Stop!”

“Nuh-uh. Come here, we need to have a little talk, you and I.”

“Stop! Heeseung let go!”

Plastering your frame against his body, he grabs onto your waist and starts to nuzzle his face against the nook of your neck, causing you to gasp as you jumped up from the shocking sensation of his lips sucking on to your skin. Your reaction…didn’t work in your favor, as it allowed him to gain more leverage in pulling you in, leaving no gap between your bodies.

“Stop! Please stop! Stop…l-let go!”

Groaning against your skin, his arm wrapped around you lower back while his hand cuffs your wrist and pins it behind your back, causing your arm to take a bend at the elbow, leaving only your weak arm free to push him away, yet your measly attempts did nothing but pleasantly antagonize him.

“Shhh….come here…..COME HERE.”

Keeping your wrist pinned to your back, he swoops his hand under your thigh and lifts it, fixing it to the hilt of his hip, using brute strength to levitate your body while he simultaneously sits down on the lounge chair, forcing you to sit on his lap, straddling him as he feeds your legs through the loop holes of chair, under the arm rests.

“There….that’s better…..” he calmly speaks against your throat as he brushes his nose upwards, causing you to tilt your head back, exposing your entire neckline.

“Stop! This is wrong! You’re insane, get off!”

Gasping out a breath against the center of your neck, his parted lips gently brushing aginst your skin as he answers.

“Don’t be like that…..haven’t I shown you kindness and affection?....Haven’t I shown just how much I ADORE you?”

“Stop! Let go! There’s something wrong with you!”

“Those are some pretty strong words princess…..are we fighting? Hmm? Tell me…..” placing a hand on your hip, he starts to motion your body to grind against his crotch as he whispers out the last bit. “Are we fighting?”

Kissing your neck and your chest, he takes advantage of the slight plunging neckline your dress displayed and licks the surface of your cleavage. It all felt so….

“Yeah? You like that don’t you? Wanna moan some more?” rubbing your wrist with his thumb, he maintains his hold on you, keeping your strong arm restrained as he increases the momentum of your movements, steering you to move back and forth, up and down, and in circular motions.

“Tell me baby….since we’re fighting…tell me what I gotta do to fix it…tell me.”

Kissing your neck, moving your hips, whispering his dark and deep tone against your neck, sending the vibrations of his vocal chords to travel all the way down to your gut, you whimpered out as the sensual feeling of his harden member pressing against your core, barely covered by the thin fabric of your panties, was starting to create a euphoric friction that you couldn’t help but surrender to.

“Come on baby…tell me what I gotta do to fix it….so we can get along…”

Rubbing his hands and massaging them on your waistline, he finally releases your strong arm, only it was too late….for you.

Already too deep in, your body yearned and craved more, yet your mind remained strong.

“S-stop……oh God please…..stop.”

“No princess….dont think I will……I don’t think you want me to…..that’s okay because that’s what I’m here for…..”

Raising the hem of our dress up, pulling your straps down, he rolls the material of your slinky dress to collect around your waist as he exposes as much of your body as he possibly could. Loosening his tie, he uses one hand to start unbuttoning his shirt, all the while his other hand kept steering your motions at the hip.

“Boyfriend hasn’t touched you yet…has he?” he whispers against your skin. “I can tell…its obvious its been a while since you’ve had it…..”

Kissing your lips, you felt yourself melting into him as his hands kept roaming. He pulled, dipped, pushed, and rolled your hips into motions that the depths of the ocean couldn’t compare to. Succumbing to the overwhelming pleasures of your body uniting with his, you moaned out in shaking pleasure, while speaking the words that still lingered in your mind, though it was barely there as you felt yourself losing after a sensational rush of moisture gushes out from your walls, your clit throbbing with desire. Still...you gave it your last shot....

“Oh my God…please….please don’t….mmm...Heeseung.....ugh.”

“Come on baby….lets get along....hm?..…..let me beat it up and kiss it better for you....let me say sorry to it with my tongue. Let me fix it for you.” releasing a prolonged sigh against your skin, he chuckles out a low and dark tone, as he spoke out again....

“Let me fix it."

CHAPTER 6

Authors Notes: Weeeelllll, shits about to get real from here on out folks. ;)

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daffodil-mania · 9 months

Text

The Itch

Stanford era!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader. Swearing, sexually suggestive/explicit language, mentions of drugs and alcohol. No smut (yet); this one’s a good ole fashioned slow burn. Takes place around 2002-ish

Author’s notes: Helloooo! I said I had something longer, and here it is. I intend on turning this into a multi-part fic, so keep your peepers peeled! I didn’t post sooner because while I had ideas for this fic, nothing was really clicking for me. However, @uncouth-the-fifth recently shared some Sam AI chatbots she’d made (which I highly recommend you use btw) and after using one of them my creative juices started flowing again, and out popped this fic. Enjoy!

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The air is thick with the competing smells of booze, weed, and sweat. Some fratbro’s shitty spin on house music is booming at a deafening volume throughout the house, and all around you people are drinking, grinding; generally having the kind of time you’d expect at a frat party. It’s Valentine’s Day, so the amount of couples making out in corners has increased drastically, much to your chagrin. Your friends had dragged you here under the pretense that you all needed to blow off some steam after another grueling week of tests and homework. You have to admit, the idea had been tempting; you don’t consider yourself a party person, but you’d had this itch to do something outside of your normal routine. The itch had developed suddenly a week ago while you were standing in line at your favorite coffee place, debating on ordering your regular cup of joe or really spicing it up and asking for a shot of espresso when you saw him.

He was good-looking, sure; tall, despite his seated position at one of the tables, broad-shouldered and well-built with these soft hazel eyes that just screamed “kicked puppy in need of someone to take care of me”. But none of that is what kept your gaze on him. No, as ridiculous as it sounds, it was his hands. Huge, muscular hands that made your mouth water just thinking about them. Ten long, thick fingers that dexterously flew across his keyboard as he typed. You were hit with a barrage of hand-related fantasies ranging from dirty to holy fuck that’s dirty when the barista cleared her throat and brutally snapped you back to reality, causing you to stammer out an apology and place your drink order with haste.

Ever since then, you’d been haunted by the memory of those hands and felt “the itch”, as you called it. It was an aching want that existed deep in your gut, and it demanded satisfaction. It clawed at you, showing you images of those ginormous hands pawing you, squeezing your neck, your tits, anything they could reach. You’d done your best to resist, throwing yourself into your coursework, hoping desperately that if you ignored the itch it would go away. But it didn’t. So here you are, at a frat party, trying to find a way to scratch your itch so that the ghost of those hands could be put to rest and stop tormenting you.

You take a sip of the drink you’ve been nursing all night in a secluded corner of the living room and make a face. It tastes like piss and vodka’s evil offspring. You look around for a place to abandon your solo cup, but decide that you should properly dispose of it so no one knocks it over, or worse, drinks it. You crane your neck over the sea of sweaty, horny college students and map a path to the kitchen. Your friends had abandoned you long ago in favor of going onto the floor to dance, so your trip to the kitchen will have to be a solo mission. You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage and preparing yourself for the bumpy journey ahead, and plunge into the crowd. Things are going smoothly enough and it looks like you’ll actually make it to the kitchen unscathed when someone suddenly slams into you. Thankfully, you’re pushed into a sorority girl, so you manage to not eat shit or get trampled to death. Unfortunately, this crushes your drink against your chest, drenching the entire front of your top. Miraculously, the sorority sister is spared, and she doesn’t even seem to register the fact that she’s been bumped into.

You turn around to glare at whoever just ruined your favorite shirt and come face-to-face with a solid wall of muscle. You have to look up to get a good look at your assailant, and you see it’s him. The guy from the coffee shop. All of your anger is quickly replaced by an interesting cocktail of shock, embarrassment, and need. You thought he was big in the coffee shop, but standing before him now makes it clear just how fucking massive this guy is. He clears six feet easily, and you can tell he’s got miles of muscle underneath the henley he’s layered under a faded tee shirt.

You manage to drag your eyes away from his chest and see that all of the color has drained from his face, puppy-dog eyes apologetic and wide with shock. He’s speaking to you, but with your height difference and the ear-splitting music you can’t hear him. You pull a confused expression and have to shout “what?” a few times over the music before it gets through to him that you can’t hear a fucking word he’s said. He looks around quickly, then gestures for you to follow him. You do, confusion and nerves swirling around sickly in your stomach. Eventually he leads the two of you to a quieter corner of the room, and resumes his rapid-fire apologizing. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you, I swear, I was just trying to get away from my friend who kept trying to introduce me to this girl and I—“

You hold up a hand to silence him and force yourself to smile. “It’s okay, shit happens, I get it.” He shakes his head, unsatisfied with your response. “No, no, seriously. I feel awful about your shirt—“ you don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to look at your front, and you realize with a blush that he could probably see down your v-neck if he wanted to, “—and I really want to make it up to you. I have an extra shirt in my car if you want to change, and I’ll get you a new drink, I promise.”

The poor guy looks like he’s about to have an anxiety attack, so you wave your hand again before laying it on his arm. His eyes snap to where your hand has curled around his forearm and you jerk it away, uncertain of what possessed you to touch him. Great, now he thinks I’m some kind of perv. You clear your throat before you start talking again. “Um, yeah, a-a new shirt would be cool. Oh, but don’t worry about the drink though; it uh, it sucked. I was actually on my way to get rid of it when you bumped into me, so maybe spilling it was a blessing in disguise.” Jesus Christ, you’re rambling and stuttering like a kid asking out their high school crush. You nervously tuck some loose hair behind your ear and try to inhale some calming breaths, cringing at your social ineptitude, and look up at him. He’s smiling kindly, revealing two adorable dimples that make you want to melt into a warm gooey puddle on the floor.

“Yeah, I tried one of the drinks earlier; I don’t know what was in it but it was not good.” He scrunches up his face and pretends to gag, which pulls some genuine laughter out of you. His grin gets wider and it makes his eyes crinkle, and this has your stomach doing somersaults and your pussy clenching around nothing. The song changes and after a smiley beat passes he leans in a little closer and tells you his name. “My name’s Sam,” he practically shouts into your ear, “Sam Winchester.” You turn your head ever so slightly so you can give him your name in return. “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.” Sam straightens up and you extend a hand for him to shake. He accepts, enveloping your hand in one of his gigantic palms. You fight to keep a blush off of your cheeks. Your hands fall, but he doesn’t release you. Instead, he gives your hand a small tug, and nods over his shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll take you to my car.”

You dutifully trail behind him, your hand still wrapped up in his. If you weren’t appreciative of Sam’s height before, you are now; he effortlessly parts the throng of people around you, allowing the two of you to walk to the door with ease. And it’s only when the two of you step out into the chill of the February night air that he lets go of your hand, which you try not to read into. You cross your arms over your chest to trap some of the warmth that is rapidly escaping your body, your still-wet top clinging coldly to your frame. There are a few wasted stragglers on the lawn, and the music starts to fade as Sam leads you to his car. You’re mildly surprised when you see what it is; a black Honda Civic sedan. It’s a newer model, but it’s nothing fancy. You get the sense that while Sam isn’t very materialistic, he takes pride in his possessions and their upkeep. He pops open the trunk as you rub your arms, wishing that you had opted for more layers than just your v-neck long sleeve and a lacy camisole. You glance back at the house, wondering what your friends are doing as Sam goes through the trunk. After a minute he produces a black Metallica tee. You accept it gratefully and smile at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Metallica? You’ve got good taste.”

Sam clears his throat and awkwardly looks at his feet, his expression a bit pained. “Actually, it is… was… my brother’s.” He says, looking up at you through his bangs. You nod, and decide against probing for more information. He’s a stranger doing you a kindness; you don’t need to know about whatever family history that is capable of eliciting such a reaction from him. You glance at the road and then back at the house before looking at Sam. Your cheeks feel warm. “Um, do you mind covering me? Sorry, I know that—“

Sam cuts you off, flustered. “No, god yeah, of course. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think.” He admits sheepishly, redness creeping up his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. You shake your head. “It’s okay, really. Um, and thank you, for the shirt, I mean. You really didn’t have to.” His expression softens and he gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “‘Course I did. I’m the one who bumped into you like a total jerk. This is the least I can do.” His response only serves to intensify your burgeoning crush on him.

You both stand there for a minute, just looking into each other’s eyes, something similar to tension but too clumsy and new to be called that building between you. A fierce shiver courses through you, and Sam apparently remembers that you asked him to cover you. He maneuvers the two of you so that the car is blocking you from any prying eyes lurking on the street, and he places himself in front of you to shield you from the people in the house. He turns his back to you, giving you some more privacy, and you murmur a quick thank you as a burst of heat goes straight to your core.

You quickly shed yourself of both your camisole and your top, thankful to be in a dry shirt that doesn’t reek of alcohol any more. You tap his arm to let him know when you’re done, and he turns to face you. He sees that you’re still shivering and wordlessly goes back to his trunk, leaving you a bit perplexed and holding your sopping bundle of shirts in your hands. He pulls out a gray zip-up hoodie and stands before you again. “You look cold,” he says, obviously. It’s a sweet gesture, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Sam holds his hand out for your shirts so that you can pull on his hoodie, and you swap your bundles. As you pull on the hoodie, you tell him, “I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me. Most people would’ve just let me freeze.” You chuckle quietly, racking your brain for some other way to express your gratitude without sounding like a broken record.

Sam shakes his head, and another sweet, sympathetic smile graces his face. “Y/N, again, it was the least I could do, believe me.” You nod, and then gesture vaguely for your shirts. “Oh, right,” he says with a small laugh, adorably absentminded, and hands them over. As you go to take them, your fingertips brush against his, and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. Deliciously, wonderfully electrocuted. The contact causes you to jerk your hand away, dropping the shirts. “Shit, sorry—“ you curse, and the two of you drop to your knees simultaneously to retrieve them. Your hands meet again, but this time the contact lingers. You lift your head to find Sam’s eyes boring into yours, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed. And that’s when you feel it again.

The itch.

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Author’s notes: I know this wasn’t a *super* long fic but I’m slowly pushing myself to write longer stuff. One of these days I’ll write something longer than 2,000 words, I promise. Anyways, thanks for reading!

#sam winchester x reader #supernatural #sam winchester #spn #fluff #slow burn #daffodil-mania #the itch

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