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#accepting responsibility is hard. it doesn’t feel good.
jaysnunchucks · 2 days
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Random ninja headcanons
Warnings: this contains talk about mental health, death and violence
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- I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, they’re major adrenaline junkies, especially Kai and Jay
- all of them have had mental breakdowns in middle of the night and just cried
- They all have major trust issues, I mean just look at how Lloyd was doubting Sora in DR S1
- They definitely have movie nights together
- Cole feels unlovable since the rest of the ninja have met someone who loves them, but then he met Geo
- sometimes they share traumas and help each other get through traumas
- I feel like they all have this one fear, which is that the team starts to break apart and everyone just moves on with their lives
- Lloyd sees Kai as his older brother and Nya as his old sister, the siblings he never had
- They all think they’re not good enough for each other
- Lloyd feels responsible every time one of the ninja get hurt, die or get banished to unknown realms
- When they can’t control their anger especially Kai and Lloyd, they try to get away from others, either train in the courtyard of the monastery or try to find bad guys to beat up
- They actually care about their friends and allies a lot, I can imagine Cole, Kai or Jay thinking about how Faith and the other hunters are doing
- Cole actually loved Nya, but when Jay and Nya got together, he accepted it and moved on, but deep down he always has loved and always will love Nya
- Harumi really broke Lloyd’s spirit, so much he doesn’t believe real love exists anymore
- Kai has imagined how he’s future with skylor would look like
- Whenever Zane feel a wave of strong emotions come on, he turns off his emotions or talks to Pixal about it
- Kai feels responsible for Lloyd, ever since he saved Lloyd from that volcano, he has always felt responsible whenever something happened to him
- Cole loves cake, not because of its flavour but because every time he eats cake he is reminded how good life can be
- Aspheera left Kai with a trauma for his whole life, how he felt useless and couldn’t help
- Pixal and Nya have girl dates, where they can just relax and do skincare and talk about boys and all the stuff girls do
- Kai really hates selfish people, because it reminds him of himself when he was younger
- They shut each other out when things get hard but Wu has tried to teach them that their a team and they should deal with it together
- Lloyd always think lesser of himself because his father is one of the greatest villains in Ninjago history
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zialldevine · 3 months
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The hardest part about personal growth is that the world around you doesn’t pause and wait for you. You have to keep dealing with all your regular bullshit AND make the hard choices.
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*sigh*
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slttygeto · 5 months
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HUSBAND SUGURU! + PREGNANCY ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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tags: fem! reader, husband suguru!, nsfw, suguru is very hesitant about being a dad, but isnt forced into this :), reader is very motherly, dirty talk and talk about getting off the pill and being bred.
word count: 2,1k
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Husband Suguru! whom before you even got married, sat you down and mentioned to you how starting a family wasn’t something he was looking forward to. you know of his past, of the trauma he’s been through. he fully expects you to break up with him when he tells you that, knows how much you want to have a baby of your own, but you don’t. instead, you cradle him in your arms and tell him that you love him and appreciate what you have right now, not what you don’t even see in the picture.
Husband Suguru! who swears he hasn’t changed his mind about babies, about starting a family in general even three years into the marriage. but when he sees you with your friend’s baby, the glow on your face, the motherly instinct—how you gently place your hand on the baby’s head, rock her back and forth and coo at her softly while her mother gets her food ready, his heart feels as though it is about to explode.
“There there baby girl,” your voice is barely above a whisper, and when the baby cries, your lip juts out and you pull the infant towards your chest in an attempt at soothing her. your eyes find his where he is sitting on the couch, and the lighthearted chuckle you give him pulls a nervous one out of his body. you are now convinced that your husband would never ever change his mind based on the horror painting his features as he turns to your friend’s husband to strike a conversation. but in reality, the topic of their conversation is all too surprising.
“Has it been difficult? You know, managing a career and taking care of the baby,”
“Oh yeah very,” the other man admits but Suguru doesn’t detect a single hint of regret in his voice. “but yknow, look at that,” he point his glass of water in the direction of his wife and you holding the baby. “seeing my wife with our baby, our creation—seeing her act all motherly like that? Totally worth it.”
Husband Suguru! who starts to consider the idea of getting you pregnant. he hopes for the rational part of his brain to win over, rather than the horny, disgustingly perverted one. but when you walk out of the shower in a crop top, his mind drifts elsewhere—and suddenly, the image of your belly swollen with his kids floods his mind and he has to put a pillow on his crotch to hide the very evident bulge in his pants.
Husband Suguru! who once he calms down and takes care of his raging boner, texts Satoru in a hurry, asking if they could meet up tomorrow morning. your husband tells you of his plans and you hum sleepily, telling him how catching up with his best friend seems like a good idea. Suguru drops the bomb on his best friend the moment they sit down and the ivory haired’s jaw almost meets the floor.
“You mean you wanna be a dad?”
“I’m not…too sure,” Suguru looks conflicted, he is holding his head in his hands. he knows very well that this is a topic that should be discussed with you, since you were the other person of interest in the situation. but he would hate to give you false hope, he’s seen the way your eyes light up at the mention of a baby, at one of your friends or colleagues being pregnant, how there’s a disappointed look on your face that you try so hard to conceal when Suguru gives you a face in response of a pregnancy announcement. but you are so patient, so accepting, you’ve never once forced him into anything. and truth be told, he wanted to see what kind of mother you would be to your baby—and then toddler, and then teenager and adult—you’d have a life together with a new person who would adapt either your personality or his, with a face of the love of his life. your baby could have your eyes and nose, he’s always pointed them out—even before you started dating.
“Dude, do you or do you not want to have a baby?”
“I don’t know man, it’s hard to think of.”
“Because you are thinking too hard about it,” Satoru says nonchalantly and it irks Suguru a little.
“I am not thinking too hard about it—this is a new responsibility, what if I am not fit to be a dad? I could be a failure for all we know—what if I pussy out of it and—“
“I would kill you.” Satoru warns the man and Suguru doesn’t try to hide how he stiffens up. “I am not joking, I would find you and bring you back to her as a sack of bones,”
“I wouldn’t betray her like that…”
“You’re too focused on the aspect of being a bad dad rather than a good one—yknow, you really think that she’d marry someone she doesn’t see fit as the future father of her children?” Satoru has a point. you did mention to him once (when Suguru was nowhere to be seen at a party you all attended) how falling in love with him was the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but the one thing that would top it is if he became a father to your children. Satoru, knowing his best friend’s stance on the topic, reminded you of how terrified the man was of the idea and all you did was give him a reassuring, understanding wave of your hands.
“I know, but I just know he’d love them hard and make them feel as safe as he makes me feel.”
Husband Suguru! who doesn’t really try to bring up the topic of ‘trying for a baby’. he cringes at the thought, feels as though it makes the process less romantic and intimate and more of a robotic task. as he is stripping you of your clothes, he is silent and lets his eyes wander over your figure. you are extremely shy tonight, unable to meet his eyes as his rough, calloused hands brush over the skin of your boobs before bending down to be at eye level with them. he brings the flesh inside his mouth and sucks—and blood rushes down to his groin at the thought of them being filled with milk, heavy and swollen, more sensitive than usual. his teeth graze the skin at an attempt to catch your attention and your thighs squeeze as you meet his eyes.
“Sugu…” your smaller hands rest on his face as he pulls away from your boobs to plant a heated kiss to your lips, effectively pushing you back on the bed. your back gently hits the mattress, and your chest is heaving in anticipation, unsure of what his next move would be.
“Baby,” he finally speaks up, nose brushing against your stomach as he brings his lips to the skin. “how about you drop the pill tomorrow?” he knows how much of a horrible job he is doing at this, but he feels you move, supporting yourself on your elbows.
“w-why would I do that?” your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and Suguru wishes to brush his thumb over the tense skin of your forehead.
Suguru is shameless as he kisses further south, planting his kiss above the tuft of your pubic hair before pushing your panties to the side. He parts the lips and gives your clit a kiss before moving to your inner thighs.
“why not? It’s doing horrible things to your body—“ he brushes his nose over your clit as he speaks. “beside, we need you off the pill if we want a baby, don’t you think?” when you don’t react to his words, Suguru looks up only to find you staring down at him with parted lips and eyes glossed over with tears.
“…are you sure?” you ask softly, and your husband swears he could never say no to you if you asked like that all the time.
“very,”
Husband Suguru! who fucks you with a new purpose. each drive of his hips fueling the other to go harder, deeper, to keep pushing his cum inside you and plant his seed deep within. your cunt does a great job at showing Suguru how ecstatic and excited you are with his sudden change of heart. you keep squeezing around him, barely able to keep your sounds in—he fucks you so deeply that the sound of skin to skin is louder than your moans and his groans. when he puts you on all fours, the cum starts to drip out of you but he pushes it back in with two thick fingers, lips pressed to your ass cheek.
“want more?”
“mmm! please,” you whine when he aligns his tips with your folds and fixes your arch with a hand on the small of your back. the gasp that escapes your lips when he fucks into you hard makes Suguru chuckle and he rubs your sides, soothing you.
“no need to beg for it,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your nape. “I’d gladly fill you up.”
Husband Suguru! who stiffens up when you show him the positive pregnancy test. up until this point, he is in control of his emotions—he lets you cry in his arms about how scary all of this was, despite you saying you’ve always wanted a baby. he is supportive, understanding of the heightened emotions that you are experiencing—when he sees your tears turn into happy ones, only half of him is able to relax. clearly, he is nervous but he doesn’t wanna show it. not right now.
The first ultrasound during your pregnancy was nerve racking—your hand squeezed your husband’s as you stared at the screen showing what appeared to be your unborn baby. Very tiny, but still there.
“Okay mom and dad,” the doctor presses the ultrasound transducer a bit lower on your stomach, a small smile on his face. “I got some news for you.”
“Good?” your anxious voice has Suguru rubbing his thumb on the back on your hand.
“It depends, how long have you been trying for this baby?” You couldn’t exactly disclose of your very active sex life, but you do give the doctor hints that it was definitely wanted.
“Well, look over here—“ he points to the screen with his gloved finger, ushering Suguru to come closer. “Look over here dad, what do you see?”
Suguru swallows hard as he stares at the screen in confusion, unsure of what to say. “..a baby?”
“Babies. Congratulations, you’re pregnant with twins.”
Your husband whips his head towards you fast, and you cover your mouth in shock. This wasn’t planned—twins? And for a first time? You didn’t know if the tears streaming down your face were of excitement or fear that maybe you weren’t ready for this.
But Suguru still comforts you, holds you in his arms—tells you that maybe finding out the gender won’t make all of this sound scary anymore. He knew you never really had a preference for gender—you were a natural mom.
However, finding out the gender was an emotional experience for the same man who never thought he would become a father.
Husband Suguru! who tells Satoru to buy the gender reveal cake for you two. he doesn’t want to throw a party, and neither do you. finding out within the privacy of your own home seemed like the best option—you didn’t want to reveal that you were pregnant to any family members—at least not yet.
“Are you ready?” You hold your own glass as you wait for your husband to stand next to you. Your bump wasn’t that evident yet, but signs of pregnancy were starting to show on your body and it brought this warm feeling to Suguru’s body.
“Yeah, hold my hand.” You chuckle slightly at his request but comply either way. Each of you holds their own glass above the cake before looking away as you push it down—you hold your breath, Suguru rests his forehead on your shoulder as he mumbles something about not being able to look at the cake. But you muster up the courage and lift your glass, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.
“Sugu—“ you don’t need to tell him to look, he was already staring at the glass with teary eyes. The pink frosting wasn’t something he was expecting to see—he knew he was going to be happy with either but two little girls? His own baby girls—the thought of being a girl dad brings tears to his eyes and you’re quickly pulling him towards you.
“Oh baby,” you hold back your own tears as you comfort your emotional husband, his arms wrapped around your middle. You hear little sniffles and a hand rubs your back before feeling a pair of lips pressed to your forehead.
“Gonna be the prettiest mom to the prettiest girls. Ever.”   
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note: my posts are all self indulgent at this point… enjoy :D
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings
Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!
Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.
~~~~~
Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.
Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.
Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.
However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.
And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.
Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.
As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.
But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.
But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.
Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.
It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.
Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.
He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.
~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.
~~~~~~~~
It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.
And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.
The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…
Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.
Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.
~~~~~~~
When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.
Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.
Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.
Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.
~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.
~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~
Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.
Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.
Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.
Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.
Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.
~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.
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~~~Several Days Later~~~
Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.
~~~Several years later~~~
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sttoru · 6 months
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‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’
☀︎|toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.
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toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy — clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.
he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.
“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.
toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.
but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.
toji thought that he wouldn’t ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.
you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.
a sweet young woman: that’s what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.
“hey,” the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.
you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, “mhm?”
silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.
toji’s eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadn’t done so in a good few years.
that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.
despite all of it — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.
“heh.” you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.
you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people who’d stay by his side throughout it all.
“thanks, toji.” the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.
toji couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.
“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.
he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.
toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; “c’mere my little girl.”
you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.
“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.
you didn’t have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. he’d never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.
plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyes—in his own way.
“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”
the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.
you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“pfft.” you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.
“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”
there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.
“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”
toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.
“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.
you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.
you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.
“i love you too, toji.”
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messylustt · 11 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲...
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 7.7k words.
fic masterlist previous part pt nine (finale)
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smut; blood kink??; female oral; he’s got fangs and claws, im sure theres a kink for that (biting etc); a lil bit of web play (basically instead of rope or cuffs); dominant/top miguel (for the most part hehe); praising; first time; unprotected (but imagine that for some reason you are on birth control); fluff; for the serum stuff that Miguel takes I am totally making the reason why he takes it up (coz there was so many different variables); slight violence + mentions of small injuries — god, was his touches something else. the feel of him and the feel of you. miguel finally gets to have you. and would you look at that…you’ve all formed a little plan to get rid of the masked men once and for all.
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“Mm.” Miguel hums to himself, eyeing your laid out body, before he’s lifting a fraction of your shirt.
Your legs are still wide and around his waist, and his hands move to widen them even more, pushing them up slightly, as he leans down towards your stomach placing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. Goosebumps almost immediately appear, even more so when you feel his tongue lick out along the side of your waist.
It was where his claw marks were. Where he had accidentally cut you. Your breathing stutters as he licks off some of the blood, his large hands holding your thighs. At the whole ordeal your head rolls back, your teeth coming down to bite down on your lip. Hard. It was a type of sting that sent pleasurable shocks through your body.
Miguel’s licks and kisses lead down your stomach to the edge of your pants. He looks up at you from between your legs. “Cariño, if I’m finally gonna get to taste you…I’m gonna need you to see.” He has a sly smirk edging his lips as you glance towards him.
“Finally?” You breathlessly question. He said that as if he’d been wanting to do this for forever.
But his eyes narrow a fraction, crawling up your body, he tilts your chin up as your wide eyes catch his. His hand slips to hold part of your throat as he leans forward and runs his tongue right across your bottom lip. You had bit down hard. Hard enough to draw blood.
You could see the red on his tongue when he drew away, a lustful gaze very prominent in his matching coloured eyes. “Ay, you have no idea…” He whispers in response. And just as he goes to go back down your body you grab him into a kiss.
One he easily accepts, his hand supporting the back of your neck, so that it didn’t strain from the lean up. You then shake your head, because his hand had begun to unbutton your pants, clearly thinking about going back down your body. “You don’t have to do that.” You say, holding part of his hair.
But he doesn’t listen, going back to the end of the bed, as he pulls (rips) your pants off, your panties now visible to his hungry eyes. “Miguel—“
“Maybe this should be my side of the deal?” He widens your legs, you having closed them. His gaze hasn’t shifted from your panties, and more or less your pussy. “You know what…yeah…it is.”
“Really, it’s…” you drift off, not because you don’t want him to. God, you felt the urge to clench your thighs at the thought. It’s just… “I’ve never…”
Miguel looks up at you, slowly catching on. He held back an almost satisfied grin as he kissed your open thigh, dragging his lips along your skin before he speaks. “I’ll be so gentle…cariño.” His kisses move to your inner thigh. “So…so, gentle.” His gaze gets caught up again in your clothed pussy, as his fingers itch to reach out.
“I promise…that’s all I wanna do… I wanna make you feel good. You wanna feel good…right, y/n?” It’s more so a demand now, his low tone making you really want to close your legs. He looks back up at you, his breath now right over your pussy, making it clench around nothing.
“Christ…” You breathe, staring down at the visual of Miguel O’hara between your legs.
“Just…” He licks his lips, leaning closer to your clothed pussy, as his claws extended over your bare thighs. “Just a try…to try…see how you like it.”
Then you find yourself nodding. And Miguel feels elated, as he moved one hand towards your pussy his breath still warm against it. He then uses the pad of his thumb to press and slowly rub against your covered clit.
Your hips jolt, making Miguel hold your stomach down with his free hand, your leg now leaning over his shoulder. “Gotta stay still, cariño…gotta stay still for me…hm?”
He began to rub in circles, noticing a forming wet patch. “Ay, y/n…see? It does feel good.” He breathes. “It feels so good.” He mutters again to himself this time, quickening his fingers’ movements, making your hips unintentionally shift again. His hand on your stomach pressed you further into his bed, his tongue coming out to lick the cotton of your panties.
A small mix of a hitch of your breath and a whimper falls from your lips. “That feel good? Yeah?” Miguel’s finger quickens over your clit, his tongue poking out and close to your dripping hole.
“Miguel—” You cut yourself off, a shameful quiet moan slipping.
“Dios, it’s like you’ve never been touched.” He says breathlessly, as his rubbing soon grew not nearly enough. Miguel used one of his claws to pull away the edge of your panties, that rested by your lower stomach. He looks up at you again to see an almost shy look spreading across your face.
Miguel thought you only meant that you’d never been eaten out before. Not that you’d never had sex. His breathing grows shorter at the realisation that you’d never been touched. At all. No one else has seen you like this…and no one else ever will.
“Lift your hips.” He mutters quickly. “Come on.” He sounds close to impatience. So much so that he actually gives up on pulling your panties off, and instead decides to just rip them with his fangs.
You gasp as the air hits your exposed pussy, Miguel having kept your legs spread, as he tossed your destroyed panties to the side.
“Mm, such a pretty little thing who can’t stay still…and who’s so…wet.” He grinned, two of his fingers moving to experimentally run up your soaked slit. “Look at you…” He’s breathless. “Practically dripping onto my fingers. Already…cariño?”
Your breathing has given up on trying to pick a rhythmic beat. Your mind can’t focus on anything else but the feel of Miguel’s fingers. Which keep swirling and moving up and down your pussy, spreading your arousal around. He’s taking his time, and it makes you go against his hand on your stomach—your hips moving slightly down into him.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop moving?” His question is a straight demand. “I want to enjoy myself. For as long…as I want.” His warm breath went back to hovering over your pussy, as his hand drew away to lick his fingers clean. Your eyes widen at this, your breathing getting choked in your throat. “So…sweet. Did you know that you tasted this sweet?…No…I bet you didn’t. My sweet innocent girl, huh?”
He wrapped his hand back around your thighs, his claws digging into your flesh—not to cause harm but to leave a possible indent. He’d be making many more anyway. And just as his tongue was about to lean forward and taste he spoke, muttering quickly as he looked up at you. Though he was impatient to try, he didn’t want you do be too nervous. “‘You’re gonna let me try…right? Make you feel good, as I said I would? Por favor….cariño. You can tell me to stop…” He leans a little closer, his breath now tickling your throbbing clit.
You quickly nod. “I need a proper answer.” He says, to which you mutter a quick. “Yes…yes.”
Miguel doesn’t hesitate as he immediately leans all the way, and licks a long stripe up your entire pussy. You gulp—the cold feel of his tongue and spit contrasting with your heated core, making your eyes want to roll.
Miguel groaned into you, as he lapped at your pussy, easily becoming addicted to yet another part of you. “Mm…taste so good for me…so good…just for me right?” He mutters out, looking back up at you—his hair strewn over his forehead as his tongue gave your pussy kitten licks. “Oh—god, Miguel.” You moaned out, your chest heaving up and down.
“Hm?” He wanted an answer, but he wasn’t leaving your pussy alone. So through choked pleasure you tried to speak. “Y-yes…for…you.”
“That’s right…” He spoke to your clit now. “All for me.” He began to suck, making your back arch off the bed, and this time Miguel let’s you, his hand instead sliding up your stomach, and under your shirt, going straight for the edge of your bra.
His claws softly dragged across your skin, all the way around to your back, managing to unclip your bra. How he could multitask so well, you’d love to know. Pulling your bra out from under your shirt, he pushed the material up, exposing your tits.
His tongue didn’t let up its feverish sucking, licking, and kissing. Miguel’s small groans of approval and lust sending multitudes of shivers up your spine—your entire body. Then the tip of his claw brushes over one of your already peaked nipples.
The hitch in your breath was hint enough to Miguel that you liked it. He occasionally shifted from rubbing the pad of his finger in circles over your nipple, to pinching it gently between his claws. Then as his tongue began to press harder, closer to your dripping hole his large hand completely wrapped around your tit, squeezing and playing with it.
Your head is now knocked back against Miguel’s pillow, just as his tongue slightly thrusts inside your pussy. You gasp at the feeling. “Carajo…your pretty little hole is so…tight.”
Your body is beginning to sweat, your face entirely flushed as Miguel continues to thrust his long tongue inside you, his nose brushing along your throbbing clit. God, was it throbbing. You began to slightly squirm under his tongues abuse, feeling your stomach tightening.
“Mm.” Miguel chuckled into your pussy. “Are you gonna cum?” His tone is almost teasing, his hand continuing to massage your tit—having moved to your other one. “Cause it feels like your gonna cum all…over my tongue. Isn’t that right, cariño?”
You hastily nod, breathing heavy as your stomach tightens. “Uh…I’m—“
Miguel places his whole mouth over your pussy, continuing his pleasurable torture, making your back arch off the bed, as your orgasm crashes over you. “Oh, fuck—Miguel.” Your breathy moan makes Miguel ache in his suit. A suit he’d very much had enough of.
Miguel makes sure he eats up all your cum, not moving away from your pussy until your thighs are twitching with slight overstimulation. When he leaves your cunt, your back slumps against the mattress, breathing extremely hard, your forehead sheened with sweat. In one swift movement Miguel is pulling his suit off, letting your gaze stop on his hips and chest and abs.
He’s crawling back over your body, not before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. He cages you in, leaning closer to your face, as he still licks his lips. He leant forward and slowly—torturously—kissed your cheek. “Thanks, cariño.” He whispered in your ear, his tongue slightly darting out in a lick. He couldn’t resist, your skin just tasted so delicious.
With his large body caging you in and his kisses moving to your neck you manage to slip your hand into his hair, pulling his head back. You could almost feel him entirely, if he just leaned his hips down a fraction. But he seemed to enjoy the teasing, so you decide to grip harder on his hair, earning that same tiny whimper that contradicted his entire attitude, as you wrapped your legs tighter around his hips.
And with his loosened form—result of your hair tugging—you manage to somewhat flip you both, your legs now in a straddle over him—you having had the advantage of your wrapped legs. Miguel narrows his eyes at the action, looking up at you, as his hands fly to your hips, going to speak on how he’d rather be on top, when you completely sit down on him, making his words choke and die in his throat.
You placed your hands on his chest for support, and Miguel quickly grabs your wrists—still attached to his chest. Fuck, now you could feel him. And shit did he feel big, hard against your pussy, already dripping again. At the feel of your pretty cunt against Miguel’s cock his lips twitch up in a pleasured snarl. His grip tightened around your wrists. “I like being in control…y/n.”
“I can tell.” You say, moving your hips experimentally along him. He hisses at this, pulling at your arms and making you lose your support so that you fall against his chest. “Miguel.” You partially groan in annoyance making him smirk in amusement. His hands then wrap tightly around your waist, keeping you there. “Miguel…” You say again. “I want—“
“But this is my side of the deal, y/n.” He moved to leave kisses along your jaw. “So, isn’t it about what I want?” He teased. “What I want…” He moved to your ear, beginning to shift his body to move you both, successfully flipping you. When your head hits the pillow your hands suddenly get stuck.
You look up and behind you to see your wrists are attached together by an orange web, which is then attached to the head of the bed. You quickly look back to a smug Miguel. He hand used his web bands swiftly before taking them off, and settling on top of you again. “Miguel—“
“Shh…” he dragged his bottom lip up your neck, his fangs grazing your rapidly beating pulse. “This is a l-little unfair.” You say between breathes.
“Is it?” Miguel asks. “You used your advantages before…now I’m using mine.” He smiles against your skin. “And I have plenty of advantages.” In response to his words his fangs now purposefully drag across your soft, sensitive skin. You shiver, your breath hitching. Miguel could feel the quicken of your pulse under his tongue, making him smile.
Because the way you were shifting your hips showed him that it wasn’t out of fear…but something else entirely. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure my advantages make you want to scream.” He chuckles, now moving to hover over your lips. You meet his gaze.
He keeps eye contact as his hand—claw—dragged down the side of your bare body, drawing loose patterns on your skin, until he reached your pussy, moving his sharp claw over your clit, making your stomach contract and your hips jolt, your mouth opening—his lips still hovering. “So reactive.” He cooed, dragging his claw back over it.
His breathing soon became laboured, the teasing getting too much even for him, as he takes his hand away to grip your waist, your body stretched from being restrained—arms up. He then grabbed his cock, moving the head through your wetness, making sure you’re wet enough, while simultaneously getting your arousal on his aching cock. “Mm, I wanna fuck you so bad.” He groaned, his cock stopping over your hole as you clenched around nothing.
He leant down to litter your face and lips with kisses. “You’re gonna have to loosen up though, cariño.” His cock pushed slightly inside you. Your pussy not meaning to clench around him but it does anyway. “Dios…y/n, please.” He hisses out, wanting nothing more than to just thrust fully in.
But he wouldn’t. Not until you had loosened up and and not until you had told him he could. “Just loosen up for me…”
And you take a breath, relaxing your body, leaving room for Miguel to push further in. “Oh—“ you press your lips together at the feeling of being stretched. “No no no, cariño, I want to hear you.” Miguel says, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers. “Come on…let me hear that pretty voice of yours.” With his grip on your cheeks you were forced to open your mouth.
Miguel leaned down to explore it with his tongue, making the sounds tumble easily from your lips. “That’s it…” he smirks, pushing further in. You clenched your restrained fists tight, as your chest heaved.
God Miguel was holding back. Everything about you made him want to move his hips. He wanted to feel you, be your first. But that meant taking it slow, and for you he would. “You’re doing so so good, cariño…so good for me…mhm.” He praises, as he moved his hand back down to rub your clit. Hiding some of the pain with pleasure, making your legs almost shake.
“Carajo…” He whispered, shutting his eyes a moment as he pushes all the way in, filling you to the brim with his cock. You were right—he was big. So big that you’ve indented your palms with your nails. “Ay…dios no.” Miguel hisses out, his grip tightening around your waist. You felt too good, that it almost had him muttering in a plead to move his hips.
The painful stretch had slowly become pleasure, his finger still rubbing your clit in circles. “Fuck, Miguel…move…please move…god.”
And Miguel has never been more happy to hear a simple sentence as he pushes out to thrust back into you, his hair was growing damp already, as he began to thrust in and out, your tight little hole making Miguel mutter and groan out anything on his mind. “Ay, dios…so good… feel so good cariño…doing so well...I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…you have no idea.”
Your eyes are holding back from rolling wanting to see Miguel’s sweating body. You slightly struggle against the web, wanting to touch him. “Please Miguel…I just…”
He grins. “Look at you…so adorable.” He coos, leaning closer and kissing you hard. “Mi—“ you try through his kisses but he’s persistent. “Shh, I just wanna feel that tongue…come on...” He partially snarls out as your tongue finds his, his head pushing harder against yours, as his thrusts quicken, making you moan into his mouth.
“Uh huh…eso es, cariño… mm…you wanna know something?” He asks, his head slightly dropping to your neck, breathing heavy, as he had begun to move his hips at a pace that’s making you pant. He smiled against your skin, his hand moving up to play and fiddle with your tits.
“W-what?…” You manage through whimpers and pathetic groans. “The first night after our little deal was made…I couldn’t help but touch myself.” He nipped at your skin, right by your pulse. “Ma’ girl was so…breathless from a bit of excersise…mouth open…”
He chuckled into your neck, continue to fuck your aching cunt, which is practically dripping all over him. “It was hard not coming into your new room…You were so close by.” His fangs had begun to graze against your skin a fraction harder. “So for compensation I imagined touching your pretty little lips…” as demonstration he moved his hand to spread two of his fingers over your bottom lip.
“…seeing what your annoying tongue was all about.” He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, finding your tongue with his claws. “Mm…” Miguel hummed, mouth opening against your hot skin, his fucking making your mind see stars.
“You wanna know something else, y/n?” He placed a long open-mouth kiss to your pulse. “Hm?” He smirks, wanting you to speak. “Come on, talk more…i wanna hear your voice, didn’t I say that?” He had begun to match his cock’s thrusts into your pussy, with his fingers’ thrusts into your mouth, your drool coating his skin. He was teasing you, and in response you bit down on his fingers.
And of course you didn’t get the reaction you wanted, Miguel’s eyes instead lighting up with a new found heat. “That…exactly that…dios…did I want to do that to you.” He continues to fuck your mouth with his fingers, his hips thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over and over.
You’re surprised you haven’t orgasmed a second time yet, while you could clearly tell that Miguel had high stamina. He then leant back to your neck, softly biting. “…I imagined biting you…and now that I know what your blood tastes like…ay cariño, it’s hard to hold back.”
You had begun to nod before you even realised your heads movements. Miguel lifts his head to look at you, chest heaving, as his cock twitched inside you at your little response. “What was that?” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your saliva running slightly onto your bottom lip.
“I—“ you gulp, eyes fluttering, as you felt your pussy clench around him.
“Aw…are you gonna cum again?” Miguel coos. “Your body is so easy to pleasure.” And Miguel is beyond pleased at how obedient it is. His hands slightly run up and down your waist. “But before you do…” he slows his thrusts, knowing for himself that he could go on and on and on.
You slightly whine at the prolonging of your orgasm. “What were you nodding along to?” Miguel is watching you closely, as his thrusts have turned utterly torturous. In…and out….in and…out. And it’s making you squirm.
“You gotta tell me or I’ll keep at this pace…” he leans closer to your face. “And you know I have all night to do so.”
Your breathing is heavy. “I nodded because…” you were slightly nervous to say.
“Yes…?” Miguel pushed, his gaze darting everywhere it can.
“I…wantyoutobiteme.” You rush quietly out.
“I haven’t nearly fucked you close to speaking nonsense yet.” Was Miguel’s way of saying ‘repeat slower’.”
You gulp. “I want…you to bite me.” You meet his gaze, and your breathing stops at the focused look he’s shooting at you. His breathing shallows, as his eyes dart down to your neck. You slightly lean your head a fraction back—a silent invitation that is making Miguel go practically feral. His nose twitches in bloodlust—the kind that is making his thrusts inside you quicken.
Then before you’re knowing it his warm breath is by your neck, as his hand wraps around your throat, tilting your head how he wants, as his fangs drag a little harsher against your skin. Your heart is on fire, as you then hear Miguel mutter something incoherent, but the latino accent is thick as sinks his teeth into the side of your neck.
You gasp, your hips shuddering against his quickening thrusts. Now you were close to your second high. Miguel’s fangs stung at first, before a strange sort of pleasure takes over as he sucks on your neck, his grip around your throat tightening a fraction, as his thrusts turn unrelenting, the slight dizzying feeling of loosing a small amount blood only adding to the experience.
“Holy fuck, cariño…y-you’re doing so good for me. Being…so good for me…aren’t you?” Miguel breathed out, once he finally let go of your neck, not wanting to drink too much. His tongue came out to soothe the fang marks, licking up some more blood.
When you caught sight of him, you felt your heart stop. Your pussy clenched around him, as you saw his messy, damp hair, and the blood tainting his lips. Your blood. And you don’t know why that does something to you but it does, making your stomach clench, your second orgasm quickly following. “You gonna cum, cariño? You gonna cum for me? All over me?” He mutters, fucking you rhythmically until the pleasure hits, making your head knock back.
Miguel needed a little more to get him there. Just a little. So he continued to fuck you through and after your orgasm, making your legs shake. “Migu—“
“Shhh…y/n…I’m almost there…por favor…I’m so close.” His head rested in the crook of your neck as he thrusted into your poor abused hole, the overstimulation making your breathing choke and incoherent words fall from your lips.
“Mm, doing so good…so fucking good for me…” Miguel groaned out, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “Gracias, cariño….shh…thank you.” He whisper-moans into your neck, as he finally orgasms, his breath shuddering, as his thrusts begin to slow.
When he finally pulls out of you, you can barely move. Just how Miguel wanted. He wanted to take care of you, and if you had enough energy you’d say ‘no, I’m fine’. So Miguel slightly grins, kissing your jaw, then cheek, then lips. Pausing on them as he pecks them again.
Your eyes are glittering with exhaustion, and Miguel’s hand has gone back to stroking your skin. “Gracias, cariño.”
You’re still breathing heavy, as he rests his chin by your chest, tilting his head as he looks at your fucked out expression. Oh how he wanted to see that again, over and over again.
“I feel like…I should be the one sayin’ thanks...” You breathe out. You can’t even put into words what that was like. Not that you could really form them that well anyway.
Miguel couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he watched you shut your eyes, slowing your breathing. He hums as his claws gently continue to draw patterns on your warm skin. With eyes still shut you say “At least now I have experience…you know…I can now know what I’m doing with guys.” You hold back your teasing smile.
Miguel’s smile immediately drops as he stares at your still shut eyes. He snarls, pulling your body to lie atop his, making you yelp. He wraps his arms around your body. “No no, ‘guys’ as in plural?” He shakes his head. “Oh no y/n, im not sure if you get it…you’re all mine now.”
You stare at his focused red eyes, his claws tightening around you. Your amused smile widens, as you quickly peck his lips. “No.” Miguel warns, not wanting to be effected. “I want you to say that you won’t—“
You cut him off by another, longer kiss. And Miguel can’t help but let his eyes close, his head moving with yours. “Y/n…”
“Shut up.” You whisper against his lips. And Miguel can’t help the satisfied smile that curves his mouth.
;;
The light was peaking through the curtains when you woke. You almost got a fright seeing a sleeping Miguel beside you. His arm was draped over your stomach, his chest slowly rising. In all honesty you’re still in slight shock at everything that had occurred yesterday. Literally everything changed.
Your gaze catches sight of the bedside clock, seeing the time. You scan the floor for your clothes, spotting your completely destroyed panties. This’ll be an uncomfortable walk to your room then.
But as you were about to get up to get dressed the arm that was draped over you tightened, pulling you back into a warm chest. And you think you might actually die when you hear the low morning voice of Miguel right in your ear. “Don’t tell me you we’re gonna leave.”
You pressed your lips together. “I’m late.” You whisper.
“To what?” He groans, keeping you pressed to him.
“Miguel…” You try to slightly move, but in response Miguel swiftly moves over your body under the sheets, trapping you under him as he tilted his head. “Hm? To what?” He repeated.
“Work.” You say.
He raises his brows. “You can’t be serious. Work? You were gonna leave me for work?”
“Said no boss ever.” You respond. Miguel scoffs, his hand subconsciously moving to brush along your jaw. “Exactly. I’m your boss. And you listen to your boss regarding work, right?”
You narrow your eyes. “Mhm.”
He leans closer. “Well your boss says you don’t have work today.” He moves to kiss your lips, but you press your hands against his chest stopping him.
“No no. I will not get any benefits.” You’re serious.
Miguel tries to lean in again but you’re persistent. “Mi Dior.” He mutters. “Let me kiss you.”
“But you hear me right?” You say. “No benefits at—“
Miguel swiftly leans down, kissing you. “Migu—“
“Yeah yeah, i heard you.” He says to your lips, pushing harder against your mouth.
But then you again push at his chest making him groan. “Oh come on, chaparrita, what now?”
You pause. “Two things…” And Miguel shoots you an unimpressed look. “One…” but then you pause. “Wait no, actually three.”
“Y/n—“
But you cut him off continuing. “One—I’m late. And I will not miss work because I’m too…distracted.”
“Ouch.” Miguel mockingly nods.
“Two—i have morning breath…and it’s gross—“
Now Miguel cuts you off, grabbing your cheeks, squeezing them lightly to shut you up. “Say that again, and I’ll be happy to keep you from work.”
You slightly huff, but raise your brows, silently saying ‘yeah alright’. He lets go, as you continue to speak. “And three…what does chaparrita mean?”
Miguel slightly smirks. He then reaches up and grabs your phone (that had been in the back pocket of your pants) and hands it to you. “You could just tell me.”
He raises his brows. “I don’t want you to hit me.”
That comment makes you speedily tap at your phone, putting it through translation. Throughout your typing, Miguel begins to place kisses along you neck and collarbone, stroking random parts of your body.
Then your mouth opens as you read what appeared on your screen. “Shorty?!” You exclaim, making him chuckle against your skin. “Short—I am not short. You’re just…” Miguel looks up, still amused as he meets your gaze. “…abnormally tall.” You finally say.
He tilts his head. “Now get off me or I will hit you.” You’re annoyed. You had thought that it was something a little more endearing than that. You struggle under him. “Move.”
Miguel can’t get rid of his smile as he just rests completely on top of you. “You’re heavy, get off.” You groan out. “Miguel!”
;;
You’re all standing around the mess that is HQ.
“Well…I’m sure we can repair some of thi—“ But a loud, concerning sizzle of a bursting screen makes pav stop and everyone slightly jump. “Um…” he drifts off staring at the damage.
“Yeah…nah, that’s fucked, mate.” Hobie pats Pav’s back, staring at the damage too.
“That’s not really our concern though.” Gwen starts. Some other spider-people had begun to gather (the ones not terribly injured). “They left. They got out, and we don’t know if they’ll come back.”
Miguel is standing, jaw clenched in thought. You look slightly down to see that he put your bracelet back on, cleaned it from the blood. You hold back your want to smile. Now’s really not the time, y/n—you think to yourself.
No one knows yet about you two and at this moment you wanted to keep it that way. So part of you didn’t want him wearing that bracelet. Someone could easily notice it.
As the others discuss some form of a plan, you quietly edge closer to Miguel. He shifts his gaze to you, as you keep your gaze looking around before quietly saying “You don’t have to wear that.”
At first Miguel doesn’t know what you mean, until your gaze shoots to his wrist, his soon following. He looks back up to you. “Why not?” He whispered back.
“…and lil’ lovebird back there, you got any ideas?” Hobie suddenly asks, walking closer to you both.
“Excuse me?” You say, eyes slightly widening.
“Not you…” Hobie begins. “Him.” He gestures to Miguel, who just stares back, unimpressed.
You slightly sigh in relief, only to then furrow your brows. Wait, why was Hobie calling him that?
“We go to them.” Miguel says.
“Are you insane?” One of the spider-people ask. “A lot of us almost died here. We can’t just walk right into a their base like a suicide mission.”
“And would you rather stay and wait for them?” Miguel asks raising his brows. “They’ll be back. Stronger this time. So let’s get to them while their in the process of upgrading.”
“Vulnerable.” You mutter—more so to yourself, but Miguel and few others catch it.
“Exactly.” Miguel says.
“Wait but where even are they?” Miles asks.
And Miguel gulps. He had to tell them. He’s sure a few already know. “I’ve been there.”
Everyone shifts there gazes to him. “You’ve been there?” Jess steps forward. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
“I went alone.” He says. “I had to check something.”
“Check something?” Peter asks, thankfully without Mayday today.
You take in the way Miguel’s body is tense, words seeming to get caught in his throat. Words never get caught in his throat. So you speak up. “Everyone who is willing to go, raise your hand!”
You look around to see barely anyone keen. Though you do see the hands of your friends. Always willing to defend something. “Then how about those you will actually be a part of the plan can discuss details?” You look around, you catch your friends nodding along while a few ‘i guess’s’ come from random spider variants. “Great…so how bout that office,” you point to a far door. “It doesn’t seem…blown to bits.” You nod.
Hobie’s the first to follow you, then Miles, Gwen and so on, until it’s your friends and Miguel in the office. You meet Miguel’s gaze and see something similar to…gratitude? You had to get used to these displays of emotion.
You shift your gaze, coughing. “Sorry, carry on.” You gesture somewhat to Miguel.
“…thanks.” He says, still staring at you.
Hobie spares Pav a look, silently saying ‘told ya’. Because Miguel never ‘thanks’ anyone. It’s usually just a nod or something along those lines. Pav nods, his eyes shooting back to you and Miguel.
“Miguel, why did you go to their base alone?” Jess asks, crossing her arms.
“Because they took something of mine.” Miguel answers.
‘Took something’. You remember the night Miguel was unbelievably stressed. He had said ‘I let them take it’.
“Take what?” Gwen asks.
“The enhancing form of rapture.” Miguel answers.
“An…enhancing serum…” Pav says in slight confusion, drifting off.
“I thought I could get it back.” Miguel continues. “But it seems they already used some.”
Then it clicks. The ‘masked man’ Miguel was staring at must have taken the serum. That’s why his hits seemed so much more painful to watch. His strength was enhanced.
“Wait, Miguel why were you taking that?” Peter asks, brows furrowed.
“Because you know that fun little thing called a ‘spider-sense’?” Miguel rhetorically asks. “Yeah, I don’t have that.”
You shift your gaze to Miguel. You hadn’t known that. You had always thought that he had the same abilities as the others, just…with extra claws and fangs. Miguel meets your gaze. And strangely he felt slightly nervous. He didn’t want you to think any less of him because he technically only had 50% of spider DNA in him.
“So, you wanted to enhance your strengths, to help with your lack of abilities?” Jess asks.
“That’s a nice way to put it, Jess.” Miguel spoke with a straight face, shifting his gaze to her.
“Okay, so wha’?” Hobie asks. “They stole ya serum, boosted themselves up?”
“There’s more.” Miguel says.
“Oh.” Hobie nods, pretending to look pleased.
“When I went to their…base, better word would be lab…I saw a lot more than just the serum.” Miguel is saying, everyone’s heads turned to him. “They were making something. With the rapture. As an additive.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Miles comments.
“You don’t think so?” Miguel snarks back, making poor Miles close his mouth.
Your brows furrow. Why Miguel had started to have beef with this kid you’d love to know.
“So the plan is to go find what they’re creating and…destroy it?” Gwen asks, partially to Miguel, partially to everyone.
“Sounds good t’ me.” Hobie smirks. “Are we workin’ in pairs? Cause I’ll take miss democrat over ‘ere.” Hobie links his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him. You notice his small jab at you being democratic back when you asked everyone to raise their hands.
You slightly shove his side, as Miguel speaks. “Destroying whatever it is will hopefully weaken them, enough so we can kill…if they haven’t taken it already.” Miguel shifts his gaze to Hobie. “And yes, pairs would work best.” He then shifts his gaze to you. “Weak human, you’re with me.” He turns opening up a portal.
You scoff, narrowing your eyes on his back. But you step forward, hearing a faint mumble from Hobie. “Lovesick partner taker.”
;;
You’ve all split up, having arrived at the creepy looking lab. Gwen and Miles. Hobie and Pav. Peter and Jess, and of course…you and Miguel.
“Thanks, by the way,” you whisper to him as you both slowly step along a desolate hallway. “For letting me help.”
Miguel meets your gaze. He had yet to put on his mask. “Ah, well…I was scared you were gonna hit me otherwise.”
“Mm, glad I remain a threat.” You whisper back.
Then you hear steps, Miguel’s hand immediately coming out in front of you, as you both press yourselves against the wall. You could laugh, because right now you could picture spy music playing in the background. And Miguel being his large self would probably be the worst one.
“You’d be a terrible spy.” You whisper to him once the steps faded.
Miguel looks at you. “What?”
“A spy.” You repeat. “You’d be terrible.”
“And why is that?” Miguel’s gaze wanders the different rooms, trying to find the one he had been in before.
“You’re too…big.” You conclude, not finding a better word in the moment.
It’s then silent, both your steps filling somewhat of that silence. And when you look to Miguel, he’s clearly trying to hold down an amused grin.
Then your cheeks flush, and you look anywhere else. “Don’t you dare.” You quietly hiss.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” Miguel says, acting innocent.
“You better not.” You gaze around at the different rooms as well, Miguel having given you somewhat of a description.
“But if I were to—“
You swiftly cut him off, placing your hand over his mouth. You can feel him grin underneath it, as he watches you. “Shh.” You say. “You might alert the masked men that we’re here.” Then you turn and walk a little quicker down the hallway.
Miguel watches you go. “Yeah, cause I was the one talking.” He mutters.
“I heard that.” You hiss-whisper back, still scouting rooms. Majority empty and abandoned.
Miguel scoffs, continuing his search as well.
;;
Somewhere on the opposite side of the building, Hobie and Pav are quietly talking as well. “So do you think they’ve…” Pav raises his brows at Hobie.
“How ‘bout ya ask ‘em when we see ‘em next.” Hobie raises his brows too, doing that little side smile, as he tilts his head, his hands moving to his pockets.
“Oh, I’m not asking that.” Pav quickly says.
“Oh come on, bro,” Hobie hits Pav’s shoulder.
“No.” Pav shakes his head, eyeing rooms.
“How ‘bout,” Hobie begins. “…last one to reach the room has to ask?”
Pav gives Hobie one glance, before they’re both webbing away quickly—in search of the room.
;;
“There.” Miguel gestures to a doorway with light flooding out, as he slips his mask on. You both creep forward, moving to peep in. You can hear voices, harsh and angry.
“Did you manage to kill any?!”
“A-a few.” A more timid voice says.
“A-a few?” The previous guy mockingly repeats.“That’s not fucking good enough!” There’s a smash, as the sound of a fist hitting a nose follows.
Miguel’s head is focused forward, his claws extending. “I want them dead! All of them! They don’t have a right to be controlling the multiverse like this!”
“I-I know.” The guy chokes.
You can’t see anything yet, moving any closer would make you both visible. But luckily sound seemed to be enough for now.
“Do you? Do you really? Because Miguel O’hara is still alive. I thought you took his rapture?” The guy grits out.
“I did. But maybe…he has more…back up rapture.”
“‘Back up rapture’? Do you hear how stupid you sound?” Another punch. “They don’t deserve to be controlling anything, those bastard spiders think that just because their DNA is different they have the right?! No no.” What sounds to be a slap follows.
Miguel is edging closer, fraction by fraction. “I’ll show them what different DNA looks like…” the guy then speaks slowly, lowering his voice. “Yeah…” he chuckles.
Different DNA… The rapture being an additive now makes sense. It changes your DNA. And whatever other stuff they added must be mix of enhancers and straight up drugs. All for the cause to become powerful. He wanted control. Utter control. And he was going to kill anyone to get there. To put it simply he wanted to take Miguel’s place.
“Stay here.” Miguel whispers. And in this moment you knew your help wasn’t needed. You weren’t stupid, knowing that you’d just get in the middle of things. And right now you were okay with that. When the time came where you could help, you would. And that was something that made you almost feel…settled—a little more sure of yourself.
You nod, ushering for him to go. He then shoots his web out, pulling the timid guy away from getting punched again, as he shot another web at the meaner guys face. But the guy is quick to rip the web away, his strength clearly enhanced. Shit…he took it.
The rest soon became a mix of smashing glass, bruises, blood, and evil cackles that you’re sure the guy copied from the Green Goblin.
He may despise spider-people, thinking he’s above them, but he seems to be acting just like every villain who thought the same. Their fate didn’t end so well.
The guy being enhanced is most definitely making it hard for Miguel. You glance around the somewhat empty hallway, hearing and spotting something outside the far window. You quickly step closer, worried it may be a masked man.
And you’re…somewhat right. Because there are masked men, but there is also your friends. Fighting. And maybe now you are wondering if you should have come at all. But then you slip your hand into your pocket, bringing out the small switch device that you had kept.
You had tampered with it, trying to get it to work against its owners. And you aren’t even sure if it does work. But what really is there to loose?
You re-poked certain wires, the job not amazingly done, but hopefully good enough. You can hear shouts and heavy feet, punches and falling bodies.
And then you push the switch, hearing the whirring. The falling bodies, punches, heavy feet, and shouting are still audible at first. And you think maybe it didn’t work.
But when you look back out the window you see that it’s the masked men who are the bodies that are falling, the punches being directed by your friends. It had worked. The little machine messed with masked men’s’ DNA.
After a while of making sure that it’s working, you quickly rush back to the doorway to where Miguel and the other guy’s fight began, and you’re relieved to see that Miguel is holding him up by his neck.
The guy is babbling trying to get free. He looks confused, as if wondering where all his strength had gone. You couldn’t help but let a small smile edge your lips.
Miguel tightens his hold until the guys face turns purple, finally his struggles ceasing. Miguel let’s him drop to the ground, breathing hard. And as he takes his mask off—to breathe easier—he meets your gaze and notices the switch in your grasp.
Then someone is running quickly into the room, past you. Pav. He’s breathing hard, as he then jumps and cheers. “Ha!” He exclaims to someone behind you.
You turn seeing Hobie coming to a halt, huffing. “Nah, mate, ya cheated.”
Pav grins, his cheek a little cut up, but seemingly still ecstatic. You shift your gaze to Gwen, Miles, Peter and Jess who all arrive by the doorway as well.
Peter then nods, looking around. “Did we do it?”
“Hell yeah we did!” Miles hoots, slapping a high five to Peter’s hand. Peter moves his hand to offer Jess a high-five. She raises her brows and Peter is quick to put his hand away.
You breath in relief. Everyone is fine, nobody died…and you have no idea how your little invention worked.
;;
You’re all walking outside the lab, wanting to know exactly where it is. It’s a rundown Alchemax scientific building, obviously on much quieter universe.
“Isn’t that y/n’s bracelet?” Gwen suddenly asks, looking down at Miguel’s wrist. You freeze.
Miguel glances down at it too, but before he can say anything you quickly speak. “No.” Heads turn to you.
“I-uh…mine looks different.” You nod.
Now Miguel turns to you, brows raised. “Does it?”
You narrow your eyes on him. “Yes. Very different.”
“It looks pretty similar to me...” Pav says, making you press your lips together.
“And when were you looking at my wrist for that long to know that?” You ask Pav.
“I mean your hands are always up and tapping at keyboards.” Gwen says. Damn it.
Now there was nothing inherently wrong with what has happened between you and Miguel. No. You just felt…strange telling everyone, the situation basically being at work.
“It is her bracelet.” Miguel suddenly says, twisting it in circles around his wrist. All heads shoot to him, yours too.
“It is?” You ask, eyes really narrowing in on him.
“Mhm.” Miguel looks back at you, looking almost smug. His web “subtly” shoots out, attaching to your side, and pulling you towards him.
And you sigh, because everyone seems to catch on rather quickly after that.
All their expressions are different. And you’d laugh if you weren’t so flushed and nervous.
Gwen is staring, just blinking. Miles’ eyes are flicking between the two of you, wondering how you (the sweet, nice, funny girl) got with him (Miguel…enough’s said there).
Jess seems rather unbothered by the whole ordeal while Peter’s mouth is nearly dropped to the floor. And Pav is holding back an amused smile, almost nodding with approval.
“So, ‘av you two banged yet?” Someone suddenly asks, making your eyes widen. And you know exactly who the culprit is…
“Hobie!”
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pls nobody ask me how the bloody switch works OKAY?! It just does!
but oh my god. it’s here. the finale of ‘el trato (the deal)’. thank you all so so so much for all the support and love you’ve given this series — actually crying
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6 taglist #7
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preeningpisces · 2 months
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Nanami NSFW Headcanons
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Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these
18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader
Enjoy! 💙
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☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask
☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them
☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy
☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)
☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.
☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet
☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own
☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship
☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his
☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him
☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO
☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/
☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly
☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven
☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok
☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time
☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going
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fuckyeahisawthat · 9 months
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I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.
(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)
Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.
But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.
And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.
When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.
So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.
And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.
Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.
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scorpihoe1111 · 2 months
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💔Chiron In the Houses💔-Part 2
Chiron in the 8H👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 TW: S*xual Content
People with this placement could struggle with themes regarding sex/sexual health. This could be somebody who’s had a bad experience with sex, such as being used/manipulated into it, made to feel shamed or guilty for having it and/or (TW: SA) sexually harassed/assaulted. I’ve also noticed people with this placement may have grew up with a very conservative family who had strict views of sex, so the individual is hard on themselves or feel almost guilty for having it or interacting in sexual things. This placement could also struggle with contracting STD’s, or having overall genital/uterus health problems often in their life. I also noticed that people like this are drawn to the occult early on in their life, and something happens that traumatizes them and ruins their outlook on it. A VERY common placement I’ve seen with people who dabbled in witchcraft and it backfired or someone who consistently goes to witch doctors/psychics/mediums and depends on these people. Also, something about the mother with this placement as well. This placement is also seen in people who have been permanently scarred by the death of someone or a near death experience themselves. The idea of death in general haunts this native and they usually refuse to accept it as a part of life. They could have paranoia of those around them dying and leaving them, or them dying themselves. The mother could have passed early on, and/or the mother could have been abusive or overly possessive and controlling of the Chiron person. Could also indicate someone who went through financial abuse as well, such as a mother or other feminine figures in their life being stingy with money that was owed to the Chiron person, or stealing Chiron’s actual money from them. This placement usually has a hard time getting along with the women in their family or women in general.
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Chiron In the 9H🌍
Chiron here is one of the placements I sympathize with the most tbh. These people could have grown up in a strictly religious environment and may have had religion forced upon them from an early age. This person could have went through something that traumatized them in regards to church, church goers, pastors or religion altogether. They could have had really negative experiences or mistreatment from those in the church who were supposedly supposed to be good people they can trust. Could have been gossiped about, judged for their interests/personality/looks, or sexually abused as well by those in the religious group. These people are very conflicted when it comes to religion, usually choosing to be atheists/switching religions as they grow up in order to find one that doesn’t hold them back from what they wanna do or who they wanna be. This could also be someone who had extremely controlling parents who prevented them from developing, growing or having their own free will. This was someone who always had to obey their parents even when parents were wrong. Somebody who didn’t have the freedom to do fun or normal things everyone else in their age group may have got to do. These people are deeply traumatized by a lack of freedom and being controlled and refuse to go through that again in their future relationships. These people start to rebel in their teens/early 20’s, and once they’re free they become their own boss; however because they were sheltered so much they could be still naive and overdo their new freedom to the point of getting themselves in legal trouble or creating baggage in their personal lives. These people could have a lack of responsibility and self control and end up in debt, jail, a criminal charge, unwanted kids, addictions etc.
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Chiron In the 10H👨🏻‍💼
Those with Chiron in the 10H could be sensitive about their reputation. This is a placement that has been judged and gossiped about mercilessly in regards to their character. These people may have done something scandalous within their life, or they may have made a mistake that many people throughout their lives have done but get heat for it way harder than others. This placement is usually found in those who care about their reputation and image more than anything else. They put how others see them and think/talk about them on the forefront of their lives. These people unfortunately can also be yes-men, or people pleasers due to wanting to receive validation from others at any cost. These people could have been well known and placed on a pedestal at some point in their lives which is why they usually tend to get gossiped about so much, or on the flip side this person does not get the recognition or acknowledgment they think they’re owed and this can lead to them feeling like they failed at life. I usually see this placement as one that’s money hungry or honestly an attention whore in most scenarios, since I’ve mainly seen those with this placement live for approval and validation even from those they don’t even know. These people could have grown up as an only child or favorite child, and parents could have exaggerated their talents and worth to the point they grew almost narcissistic and convinced they’re owed something from everyone. Obviously, this can have bad consequences as one steps out into the real world and this placement could be humbled quickly leading to their failure feeling of not being #1 in everything. Another scenario I see is those with this placement who have been involuntarily placed on a pedestal, to where each and every one of their actions, goals and mistakes reflected on their reputations heavily. In this case, this placement could have been severely judged/bullied in their youth, and/or had something happen to them or did something that they became known for and unfairly held against them. It’s important for this placement to heal in both scenarios, as if they’re unhealed this trauma can lead to excessive insecurity, co-dependence, anger and very low self esteem. This person needs to learn to live in their authenticity and honestly just stop giving a fuck what others think or say.
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Chiron In the 11H👩🏻‍💻
These placement could have suffered from bullying online or in social groups. Definitely a black sheep placement, they’ve probably went through excessive outcasting or rejection in their early years from people their age. These are people who were probably loners in school, or simply didn’t know how to make friends. Many people weren’t nice to this native, and they might have always felt like the odd one out in any friend groups they have been in. This placement honestly gives me Janice Ian vibes. That 1 outcast that becomes friends with cruel people, and ends up being vulnerable to the wrong people. They could have been the target of bullying, subject of gossip etc. They may have had friends who were intimidated of them, and friends could have projected HEAVILY on them. These people could also be naive and easily influenced, usually ending up in the wrong crowd or friend group and trusting the wrong people due to desperation of needing to fit in. These people have a hard time being accepted within society as they may be different from most people, or have interests that are considered weird among peers. They could also be subject to online harassment and bullying as well, being the main target of being harassed by fake/anonymous accounts, secrets leaked online, personal information leaked online, posting something that the internet community may not approve of and attack the Chiron person for; etc.
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Chiron In the 12H💤
This placement is really interesting for me, I think because I had to do extensive studying and research as well as trying to find people with this placement in order to really figure it out since it’s such a complicated placement. From what I’ve learned so far, those with this placement may have grew up with sleep paralysis and/or horrifying nightmares growing up. These are people that had an imaginary friend growing up. They’re very in touch with their spiritual side whether they want to be or not. These people could be scarred by the things they’ve seen in their dreams, or may have lived in homes that were possibly haunted and may have trauma in regards to things that may have happened in those homes. These people are usually deeply afraid of the paranormal, because of some type of experience they may have had when young. In another sense, I’ve also noticed that these people may have been isolated throughout their life a lot and felt very alone. They may have or still struggle with mental health/illness’s. These people could also be deathly afraid of random things, such as fire, insects, heights etc. with no personal reason as to why, it just provokes something in them. This is because those with this placement have TONS of past life trauma that needs to be healed. The sad thing about this placement is that it feels vulnerable and unsafe to things bigger than life, such as a higher power etc. They could be afraid of the paranormal, God, the Devil, Demons, Angels, ghosts etc. These are very sensitive to others spirits as well. These people often experience a deep, overwhelming sadness and pain without knowing their root cause. They feel uncomfortable and hate that the world is a negative place. Sometimes they might feel like there’s an invisible wall holding them back from reaching their full potential. In a way, this placement could feel almost as if they’re being punished by these higher powers I was talking about. Like their mind and overall future is being destroyed and blocked by something bigger than us, and they have no control over it. Overall, I feel like this placement wants to be safe. I feel like this placement doesn’t feel safe or comfortable in the world in general, which is why this placement is one of the very special ones for me. I truly think they are angels sent down from earth. I also feel it’s important that this placement heals deeply, and finds themselves a higher power that brings them comfort. I deeply feel this placement may need religion or spiritually to reach their full potential and happiness, as they seem to be so connected to the divine it’s best to confront their fears and accept the calling they’re overthinking about.
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ashyllum · 23 days
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I am so on board with Yan Sunday physically punishing/disciplining his spouse.
In public spaces he’ll squeeze your arm so tight that it aches from the lack of blood circulation. Or he’ll dig his nails into your thigh under the table to shut you up. But that’s only if he’s really really mad. Otherwise he’ll just give you a look (to others it just looks like his neutral, polite smile— but you know better).
He has a horse crop that he regularly uses. Paddles, canes, small whips, etc. He doesn’t use his hands to hit but he does use them to grab you and yank you around. A tight hand in your hair— pulling so hard that your scalp burns. Or to grab you by the jaw to make you face him. Or to shove your head into a wall and press your face against it until it’s sore (though he prefers not to leave any marks on your face).
It’s all to set you straight. Stop resisting him, stop talking to other men, stop trying to run off, stop behaving so poorly in public— you’re his partner and you represent him now, as well as The Family. If you just listened— just gave in and accepted his teachings and his affections— then he wouldn’t have to punish you like this.
And for poor reader it’s torture. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells every second of the day, bending over backwards to please him, even when he isn’t around his servants are perched somewhere out of sight and watching you. You become terrified of stepping out of line, even the smallest mistake leaves you shaking like a leaf at the thought of punishment. It really fucks you up. It almost feels like you regress mentally, you freeze up and tears immediately prick at your eyes, you begin to tremble and your lips quiver but no sounds come out. If you do this freeze response in public, Sunday apologizes to the people and excuses the both of you (writes it off as a panic attack or a sudden flare up of illness, and that he must attend to you. His guests are moved by his devotion); and your heart sinks because you know what’ll happen once you’re both alone and you want to run but there are people watching and it’ll only make Sunday more upset. The closer you get to your room the more violent your trembling becomes. You might stumble as a result but Sunday is already two steps ahead of you and he wrings his hand around your arm and drags you along.
You can babble out apologies and beg for forgiveness but it doesn’t matter— he’s already shoving you into the room and locking the door—
It’s excruciatingly painful, and he deals out punishment with unrelenting resolve. He’ll have you bend over the bed while he deals out the blows. If you try to block them with your hands he’ll tie them up— and if you continue to resist he’ll completely restrain you. It’s hard and fast and he makes you count. It’s humiliating and painful— like a white hot iron lashing against your skin. He doesn’t mind the sobbing but when you start screaming he winds his hand into your hair and shoves your face into the the bed to muffle it. On really really bad days (usually after an escape attempt) he’ll whip you until your skin splits under the cane.
Then afterwards he’ll kick your feet apart and screw you— the writhing of your body and your sobs from earlier really got him worked up. And as it’s still punishment he doesn’t really try to make it good for you. It feels like a nail being hammered into you, sharp— but the pain is still duller than the whipping. Nonetheless your body still reacts, and it jerks away from his erratic thrusts but he yanks at your hair and pulls you back onto him. You try to just let it happen but it hurts— and your body seizes up from the painful intrusion.
Sunday will be in your ear throughout all of this— telling you how you deserve it, how he loves you, how you broke his heart when he came home and you were gone, how he’ll make you into something better, how good you feel, how he doesn’t want you to leave— he won’t allow it. He tells you that he’ll forgive you for this slight, that is if you accept what it takes to earn it.
Once everything’s over, you’re completely shattered. Everything’s blurry and your ears are ringing and you can barely making out the fuzzy colors in your vision— or anything in your surroundings for that matter. Sunday pets your head (hair matted and tangled from sweat and his constant pulling), his hands are gentle and loving. It takes you a while to finally come back, but Sunday is patient. He coos at you, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head and your damp cheeks, tells you that you did such a wonderful job enduring everything, and that he hopes you’ll be better after this so he doesn’t have to do it again. Tells you that he loves you.
He welcomes you when you finally sob into his lap and blubber our apologies and promises that you’ll never leave again. You’re so tired, it hurts to move, it feels like you’ve been gutted of everything you have. Sunday embraces you, and he is so incredibly tender with you afterwards. The affection and softness is addicting, and you can’t help but allow yourself to fall into it after all the pain.
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OMG ANON!!! you're speaking my language and your writing is so so divine!!
But, one, Sunday definitely got the mom glare, that makes you squirm, and he will give you that Pavlovian dog treatment, training you, breaking you. You're his little side project he take pleasure in cultivating.
After all, he's merely your shepherd, training his naughty sheep.
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wonysugar · 10 months
Text
if you insist | jang wonyoung
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synopsis: jang wonyoung, the biggest fuckgirl on campus, asks you, y/n l/n, an honors student, to study together after classes
pairing: scum!wonyoung x goodgirl!femreader
genres: college au, smut with plot lowkey and tbh that’s it help
tags: g!p wonyoung, college au, wonyoung is a fuckgirl, reader doesn’t know wonyoung has a dick, facefucking, cowgirl, wonyoung doesn’t care how reader feels in the beginning, wony is insufferable in this (sorry it must be said), some texting, reader and wony are both vers switches
warnings: none? just be mindful that wy kinda sucks at first but then we grow to enjoy her me thinks! (and she also has a dick so that’s that)
word count: 3.3k
a/n: i wasn’t originally gonna make her have a g!p but inspiration struck me and i just had to. also, sorry for taking so long with this!! i truly hope you enjoy it<3
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“so, any questions?”
that sentence alone wakes basically most of the class up from their deep sleep, this is one of - if not the - most boring class in your program. every session of his is a literal snoozefest, you hadn’t slept well last night so this would’ve been your chance.
but you still managed to stay awake, you needed to ace this next test, keeping a streak of good grades is your main source of dopamine, so failing it was out of the question. well, it’s not like you failed any of them, anyway.
the class comes to an end and the students all pack their stuff to leave. as you put your books away, jang… wonyoung walks up to you? ‘what the hell does she want?’ you think to yourself. she leans on the desk and runs a hand through her long straight dark hair, her other hand inside of her gray hoodie’s pocket. you look at her up and down, then finally set your eyes on hers.
“what do you want?” you annoyingly ask her, grabbing your bag and jacket, her being the only thing holding you back from leaving.
“why so uptight, girl?” she grins, looking back at her friends as they laugh at this whole interaction. her friend group was a bunch of ugly frat guys, you weren’t surprised she associated herself with them though, she’s the exact same (just, much hotter). “i was just gonna ask you if you were busy later, baby.” not-so-subtly eyeing your every curve, even slightly tilting her head to catch a better glimpse of your ass, cheekily smiling.
you roll your eyes at the girl, “i don’t want to fuck you, wonyoung. now, if you’ll excuse me-“
then, she leans in, her taller figure towering over you and stopping you from moving forward, your heart skips a beat, despite you not really wanting it to, “who even mentioned sex, y/n? oh you totally picture me naked.” she smirks, peaking glances at your lips.
“get to the point. what do you really want?” you coldly respond, trying to not pay too much attention to her literally staring you down.
she backs up from you, chuckling as she readjusts her already good looking hair. “chill shawtyy, it was a jokee.” you glare, “anyways, i was just wondering if you wanted to study together later, back at your dorm? i barely listened in class, i’d like to actually understand the lecture this time.”
study together? actually understanding the lecture?? since when did this girl ever care about studies?
“oh, so now you’re trying to get good grades, jang wonyoung?” you say with a scoff, earning a playful smile from her in response.
“i guess that seeing you work so hard motivates me, l/n y/n.”
i mean, what could go wrong? if she’s really trying to improve her grades, then who were you to stop that? that would just be wrong of you. plus, it doesn’t look like she’s lying, either. you notice the hopeful look in her eyes, is she waiting for you to accept? you chuckled,
“i’ll think about it.” you say as you walk past her. then, making you jump, she slaps your ass before putting her hood on and jogging over to her friends, earning a high five from one of them as they all laugh. she looks over to you and winks, “see you later, mama.”
you can’t lie, that pet name sent a chill down your spine and you unfortunately couldn’t tell if it was a good one or not. could it even be considered a pet name? anywho, you walk to your next class, excited to see what the rest of the day brings you. and you kinda wish it involved wonyoung, because despite denying it, you did find her very attractive.
you’ll just have to wait and see.
-
after getting wonyoung’s number from your very ‘popular on campus’ friend, huh yunjin, you’re hesitant to text her. i mean, it’s not like your life right now is all that interesting to begin with, so maybe flirting with a fuckgirl is gonna help you kill your boredom.
smiling to yourself, satisfied with your decision, you grab your phone and type a quick message as you make your way to the exit. after saving her contact, you’re about to set your phone back in your pocket, and you get a notification.
she already responded? you open your phone and type out your next responses as you see her messages.
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what?
and she just leaves you on delivered after that? what the fuck is wrong with her.. and what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you getting butterflies?? this is anything BUT cute. the typos? the winky face?? god you can literally visualize her smirk just from reading her messages. despite all of that, you giggle to yourself, but then quickly mentally beat yourself up for it. she’s just joking, is what you thought. you type out your dorm number and put your phone back in your pocket.
you get in your car then drive to your shared apartment. upon arriving, you immediately start rearranging the place. i mean, it’s not like she would care about your dorm looking pretty anyway, since hers probably doesn’t look any better. you’re doing this for your own self, you told yourself. thank god your roommate wasn’t home that day, you’d have a lot of explaining to do.
hours quickly went by as you cleaned up everything, you turn on your phone, reading the clock, 5:54 pm.
she’ll be here soon. you mentally prepare yourself, putting on different, more comfy-looking clothes, then proceed to sit on your couch. bouncing your leg up and down as you await the ringing of your doorbell, looking at the progressing time on your hanging clock. ‘why am i freaking out over this?’, you think to yourself. it’s not like you’re meeting a date, plus she’s probably gonna be late. reassuring yourself, you come to the conclusion that it’s because you haven’t received someone over in so long. of course you’d be exci-
ding dong!
quickly, you rush to your door and open it, finding the taller girl, wonyoung, leaning against the door frame. well, she’s surprisingly here on time. she’s wearing a backwards cap, a black zip up jacket over a white oversized t-shirt and some gray sweatpants.
you weren’t expecting anything grand coming from her, so the look doesn’t faze you.
she smirks at you eyeing her outfit, “did you miss me, bae?”, making you sigh as you roll your eyes, stepping aside to let her in.
“you’re on time, that’s surprising.” you say in a condescending tone. in response, she chuckles, taking off her jordan’s, “how could i keep you waiting?”
she steps foot into your house, observing everything, but only for a quick moment.
“damn, you keep this place neat though huh?” right as you were about to brag about being a very organized person, unlike her, she quickly cuts you off, “yeah sooo…. where your room at?”
you give her a look of disbelief.
“god, y/n, it’s so that we can study properly. who the fuck studies in the living room?” you process that for a moment and look away from her in slight shame, she probably didn’t even mean it like that. then, as you’re about to apologize,
“that text i sent you is still on your mind, hm? you’re cute.” she says, chuckling as she’s grabbing your waist, gently pushing you against one of your hallway’s walls. you unintentionally gulp, looking into her eyes, then at her lips.
“you want me to, don’t you? you want me to fuck your brains out?” leaning into you, she whispers against your ear. you can feel her hot breath on it, making you shiver. but instead of actually doing anything, she quickly steps away from you, a smirk plastered on her face.
what the fuck.
“no but seriously, where’s your room shawty?” she nonchalantly asks, as if she wasn’t all up on you not even 5 seconds ago?? god, what is with this girl? you just blink at her in complete disbelief and confusion, then lead her to your room.
-
“so that explains why that phrase could be interpreted as a lot of different things. does that make sense?” you ask her, her gaze instantly meeting yours, like she wasn’t looking at the book. was she even listening?
“…what are you looking at.” you coldly add.
“sorry, i wasn’t listening.” she smirks, still looking at you, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and eyes. you scoff, mumbling an annoyed i know as you close the book in question, sitting up. you’ve had enough, she’s driving you insane.
“look, if you’re just here to sit around and do nothing you might as well just leave. i mean, you’re not even paying attention nor are you fucking me right now, so this just seems like a waste of time.” you snap at her. in response, her eyes widen, she definitely wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt. she then grins.
“which one are you waiting for me to do?” she smirks, getting closer to you.
frustrated at yourself for even wanting wonyoung to do you in the first place, an annoyed “fuck you.” was all that could come out of your mouth.
“i mean, if you insist.” she smirks, and places her lips onto yours, forcefully and roughly. quickly, she brushes her tongue along your lips, asking for entrance. you part your lips, allowing her tongue to roam around your mouth. before you could even realize, she was on top of you, her jacket and cap off and her hard on pressing on your stomach.
wait. her.. hard on???
you quickly push her away in surprise. she looked at you, a confused look painted on her face. “what?” she asks you.
“y-you. you have a dick??” you hesitantly ask her back. it’s not that you were against it, quite the opposite, even. but, it just caught you by surprise. since when did she… okay, dumb question.
she scoffs in amusement, “I thought everyone knew that? why do you think straight girls like me so much?”
ugh, nevermind, she was so much hotter when she wasn’t talking. before you could say anything else, though,
“you wanna see it, y/n?”
you reluctantly nod, earning a sly smile from her. quickly, she grabs the waistband of her not-so-boner-proof sweatpants and pulls it down, revealing black calvin klein boxers, her cock poking through.
“take it off.” she basically orders you, making you glare at her. you didn’t like listening to anything wonyoung said, but saying you were horny would be an understatement and you didn’t feel like stalling. you pull the boxers down, making her throbbing dick bounce up at you before sitting up.
dear god, it was big. you couldn’t exactly blame the girls who begged to fuck her anymore, cause if you knew it was that huge before, you would have thought about it a lot more. it’s girthy and veiny while being slightly above average size. it’s weirdly pretty for being used to fuck a bunch of girls, you keep that to yourself, though. you don’t wanna inflate her already huge ego.
before she could say anything arrogant about her size, you put the head in your mouth, slowly circling your tongue around the tip. quickly, you work towards taking the entire length as she groans and throws her head back. suddenly, though, as you’re still sucking, she unexpectedly grabs your head and forces her cock all the way down your throat, earning a gag from you and a moan from her.
“you were going too slow.” she specified, groaning and relentlessly fucking your throat. you would never admit it outloud, but you loved the way she was roughly pulling on your hair, using your mouth to get off. it hurt your ego, your pride, being used by a fuckgirl like this, being used by wonyoung like this. it was degrading, but you still loved it.
you keep letting her handle you like this for a long while, working your tongue on her tip and shaft in the process of her moving your head up and down her cock. hair all on your face, you didn’t even bother tying it, you liked it messy, and she apparently did too. her moans and groans getting higher and shorter, her grip getting tighter, you can only assume that she’s getting closer to finishing.
“fuck baby.. you’re gonna be good and swallow it all, okay?” she said, still using your throat. soon enough, she lets out a long moan and you quickly feel her dick slightly throb, spurting out a warm and thick liquid everywhere in your mouth, it was bitter and salty. you pull away and she looks at you, smirking and expecting you to swallow, which you don’t wanna give her the satisfaction of seeing. you wanted to see how far she would go, what she would do to you.
when she sees that you’re not doing what she asked, “come on, swallow it, you bitch.” she tells you, grabbing your jaw and smiling at you in a mocking way. you probably look like a huge whore to her right now, cum slightly spilling out of your mouth and everything. you glare at wonyoung and swallow all of it like she asked earlier, all of her semen, keeping eye contact. in response to that, she chuckles and grabs your cheek, patting it. “atta girl, you’re hotter when you do what you’re told.”
you roll your eyes as she chuckles and push her back on the bed, eyeing her still very hard dick. in a swift motion, you take off your jeans and panties, hovering over her. then, you sit down on it, slowly taking in all the length.
“you a virgin?” she asks you, holding onto your waist.
“no, why? you think i don’t know how to ride di-“
she grips on your waist and unexpectedly pushes you down onto her cock, making you accidentally let out a loud noise, a mix between a moan and a yelp. it was painful being penetrated so fast, especially by something so big but the sensation was also.. amazing. before you could have the chance to ask her to go slowly, though, she’s already pumping in and out, increasing her speed progressively. okay, now, it hurts.
“can you go slower for - mmh - f-fuck’s sake..”
“no? you take things too fucking slowly, i’m here to cum, not fall asleep.” she grunts, still lifting you up and down her cock, using you like she would a fleshlight. you notice that she gets a lot more annoying during sex, meaner, even. and you hate to admit it, but you’ve also noticed that you seem to enjoy it a lot.
“fuuuck babygirl, you’re so tight.” she mumbles as she presses her thumb onto your exposed clit and plays with it, earning a whimper from you. you feel your walls clench around her as you roughly bounce on her, taking in all of her length.
she’s fucking you so roughly, magically hitting all of the right spots, as if she knows exactly where they are. you couldn’t help but let out the lewdest most shameless noises known to man, it feels too good not to. she definitely didn’t use her mouth for much, but god did she know how to use her cock.
after a while of you bouncing up and down on her, you already feel like you could cum, despite trying your hardest to keep it in, to enjoy it a little longer. a knot was starting to form in your lower stomach, fuck, you were so close, and the fact that she was fucking you so roughly nonstop was making it so hard to keep it contained.
“fuck y/n i’m about to cum again..” she whimpers out needily, once again tightly holding onto your waist. you can’t let her though, not yet. you grab her wrists and pin them above her head, preventing her from touching you. a confused but very aroused expression plastered on her face.
“you can wait a little longer, right?” you ask, but in a tone that basically makes it seem like an order. she glares at you, gaze full of lust yet worry. you could tell she liked the sense of being in control, and that she felt vulnerable in this state. she usually was doing the fucking, not whatever this is. and she was even more frustrated that she liked it.
she moaned, chest heaving up and down from the effort she’s putting in to not climaxing, especially inside of you. you ride her dick, changing the speed to your liking. sometimes moving painfully slow, making her sensitive tip throb at the sensation, other times riding it like there was no tomorrow, she felt it everywhere, your slick running up and down her entire shaft in a fast motion. “c-can i cum yet? you’re being so - fuck - annoying.” she messily asks you, the feeling of you bouncing on her making her stumble over her words.
“maybe i’d let you if you weren’t so goddamn impatient.” you say, moaning out the words.
you were making it so hard for her, she actually thought she would pass out. thankfully for her, though, you quickly get closer to finishing, the noises coming out of your mouth getting louder and higher. then, you feel yourself clench around her length.
seeing you like this, hearing you call out her name as you came all over her cock, it all just made her arousal grow even more. she really couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“y/n please get off i need to cum ineedtocu-“
“cum inside of me.” you interrupted, you were still coming down from your high and you needed her to fill you up. you were on the pill, but she didn’t need to know that yet. you wanted to see how far she would actually go. “w-what? are you fucking crazy what if i get you pre-“ you cut her off by lifting yourself up on her cock, then back down, earning a cute moan from her.
“fill me up, wony. do it.”
upon hearing those words, the nickname, her eyes widen and she bites her bottom lip, throwing her head back as she pants from all the different feelings she felt. she would’ve actually thought about it more if she wasn’t horny out of her mind at the moment.
a mind blanking orgasm hits her, and you can feel the familiar feeling of her warm thick juices filling up your cunt again as you both moan in unison. she rambles out fucks and oh my gods as she takes it all in. watching her become such a mess just because of you.. if you weren’t so tired, that would’ve definitely made you wanna fuck her again. poor baby has probably never even been edged by a girl before.
you watched her as she came down from her high, head still thrown back as she’s panting and heaving. then, she lifts it back up to look at you, smiling shyly. was this the same wonyoung you knew? because if yes, she got significantly cuter.
you laid down on her, resting your head in the crook of her neck. you didn’t even bother pulling her dick out of you, it felt comfortable, and honestly? you were way too lazy to.
“so, are you gonna be telling this to your friends?” you jokingly ask her.
“they’d never let me live it down if they knew you got me begging for you, girl.. so, no.” she confessed, making you giggle.
“also shawty, if you do get pregnant, just be aware that i will not be taking care of the baby.” she adds.
you hum, “you’ll still fuck me whenever you feel like it though, right?”
she chuckles in response, “i mean..
if you insist.”
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Text
Blown Away (S.R.)
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Summary: Virgin!Spencer gets an enthusiastic thank you from his partner. Request: giving Spencer his very first bj and he makes the most lovely noises Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)  Content Warning: Oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, no plot Word Count: 765
MASTERLIST
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Spencer doesn’t know how, but he didn’t expect this.
You hadn’t exactly been shy about your interest in exploring new forms of intimacy, but it isn’t until his pants are down and you’re on your knees that he realizes what you’d meant when you said you wanted to thank him.
He’s not going to complain, though. Especially not when your hands feel so soft as they smooth over his thighs. The ambient air in the room almost felt cold compared to your hot breath puffing through his boxers.
Spencer surprises himself with the sound of his voice, broken and pitchy as he gasps, “Please.”
He’s not even sure what he’s asking for, but you know.
And you’re more than happy to give it to him.
You take your time as you work at removing the last piece of clothing between you and your goal. Each inch of progression elicits a breathy sound from the boy wonder seated in front of you.
He’s got a white-knuckled grip on the couch that still seems tenuous—like he’s just waiting for permission to abandon the pleather to hold you, instead.
You don’t say anything, though. Your mouth is a little busy pressing not-so-innocent kisses along his inner thigh.
Spencer can’t wait for permission, it seems. As soon as you release a shaky exhale against heated skin, his hands shoot forward and tangle in your hair.
With a wicked simper, you come closer so that your lips brush against the sensitive tip when you speak.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
Spencer, with his eyes wound tightly shut, still manages to nod.
“Yes,” he whines, “yes, it feels so…”
His thought is interrupted by the feeling of your tongue running up the length of him.
“Fuck!” he squeaks, his voice crackling and falling while his hips begin bucking forward.
You still them with sharp nails dug into his hip. The sharp contrast of pleasure and pain makes his whole body shudder.
The twisted side of you wonders if you can manage to make him finish without ever even putting him in your mouth, but the merciful side urges you not to try.
After all, he had been a good boy, and he deserves a reward.
That’s why you don’t prolong his suffering any longer. Instead, you slide your mouth over his cock and revel in the response. The soft sound of muffled whimpers as he bites hard on his lip, the desperate gasps for air, the creaking of the couch as he squirms in place.
“Oh, God,” he cries when your tongue makes gentle motions along sculpted veins. “Fuck.”
The words, however vulgar, sound so sweet when he says them. They motivate you to continue. With each upward motion, you feel him try to follow you. His hands clumsily try to hold you down while what’s left of his brain knows it’s counterproductive.
He is just so lost; lost in you and the comfort you provide. He is drowning in the warm wetness of a devilish tongue that dips to gather the droplet that forms at the tip.
“I-I can’t,” he huffs as his stomach begins to tense in waves.
But oh, you know he can.
“I can’t—I’m so close,” he admits begrudgingly.
You can tell he doesn’t want it to end because as soon as he opens his eyes to see the way you’re managing to smile with your mouth full of him, he shuts them again.
“Fuck!” he shouts while he tugs at your hair, “I-I’m gonna…!”
He expects you to accept his invitation to pull away.
He definitely doesn’t expect you to take him in even further.
His eyes shoot open when your lips manage to touch the base of him. The most indulgent, sinful kind of kiss where he can feel your throat clutch at him like your own debauched beg.
Spencer manages to keep his eyes open, to watch as choke yourself for his pleasure.
The end comes, too quickly, so beautifully. Each wave of pleasure pulses against your tongue and warms your throat. For a moment, you accept his offering instead of air your lungs desperately crave.
With a similarly sudden action, he pulls you clean off him with a final whimper.
As you collect your bearings and your breath, Spencer continues to stare at you with his pants down and pure wonder in his eyes.
“Thank you,” he says while struggling to catch his breath.
“No,” you laugh, “Thank you!”
An exhausted laugh sputters from his lips while he wonders what he could have done to ever deserve you.
He’s not going to complain, though.
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missroki · 4 months
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HONEY, I’M HOME! | ONE-SHOT
put the champagne on ice because it’s time for a celebration! your husband knows he won’t be home in time for your anniversary dinner, but surely you can find another way to entertain yourself. speaking of which… what was that noise?
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content: female reader x satosugu, reader wears dresses and has acrylic nails, threesome, c*cking, oral (reader receiving), male m*sturbation, cheating, fingering, cum eating, breeding, mention of pregnancy and children, neglectful husband. word count: 2.4k
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suguru isn’t surprised, really, when he enters his home to find that the table is already set. tall ivory candles sit half melted in their brass holders, lines of wax hardened on their polished sides. he can tell by the disheveled state of the kitchen that you must have worked hard on dinner tonight. it’s what you always do when he comes home from an overseas trip. today is no exception.
it makes him regret being late again, but not enough to have phoned home, hoping you wouldn't be too angry at him if he showed up with a pretty diamond brooch. he toes off his dress shoes, tosses them recklessly so that they hit the side table. he loosens his tie as he calls out your name.
silence. not even your irritable humming that he’s grown to tolerate.
when he doesn’t hear a response, sugur peers into the coat closet. empty. and walks the few paces into the home to check the guest bathroom. also empty. to his surprise, he doesn’t find you cheekily hiding in it to surprise him. considering the very long text message you’d sent him to remember your anniversary — he expected you to greet him at the door in one of your pretty little dresses and push him into the dining room with a glass of red wine. 
ever since the two of you moved into this neighborhood, you’ve played the role of pretty, doting housewife. you mingled frequently with the older more seasoned women, gossiping on brunch dates about your husbands and kids. you even started appeasing the neighborhood watch with baked goods and begged suguru to give hefty donations into the construction of new homes.
you wanted desperately to be accepted, for them to not see the old you under the expensive makeup and designer clothes. of course, your husband knew how important this was for you. how lonely you got when he was away.
you wanted a family, three kids minimum with one big dog and two cats. later, suguru had said, once we settle in and build a life. but you were getting impatient, he could tell. your kisses were getting lighter, your sex life fizzling out after the third time he’d insisted on cumming on your tits instead of in your cunt. 
you stopped going to your brunches and would barely get out of bed most days. it’s one of the few reasons why suguru spent so much time working. your sad eyes made him feel guilty, the way you dragged yourself out of bed only to cook and shower made him feel off-kilter. he had tried shopping sprees and fancy dinners but it wasn’t enough for you… until one day it just was.
he couldn’t explain it but you’d recently started going out again, socializing with neighbors and going to barbecues. you’d even let him touch you, practically riding him within an inch of his life after weeks of nothing. with your anniversary now here, suguru was certain he had helped you come to your senses, but where were you?
the man makes his way down the main hall, releasing the upper half of his hair from its confining bun. he hopes you aren’t in bed again, or if you are that you’re laying there bare and prepped. he lifts a hand up to run through his black strands, only to pause midway as he hears a steady… thump. 
thump thump thump he hears a few doors down. it seems you are in the bedroom as expected but…
“he’s gonna be home soon! we need to— ah! —we need to s–stop.”
a man’s voice responds to you, one that makes the hair on the back of suguru’s neck stand up. "fuck you’re so tight, don’t think about him, baby. focus on me."
suguru feels his mouth dry out as he moves further down the hallway, eyes widening as he stands outside your bedroom door. the closer he gets, the thumping turns into wet slaps. what he imagines are strong hips colliding against your own as you claw at the bedsheets; an action you had always done with him because you were his. there was no possible way you’d let his best friend fuck you in his own home. you would never.
“t–toru please, i–i need you!"
you wouldn’t.
"yeah, baby?” suguru can hear you gasp, knowing satoru must have found that soft doughy spot inside you. “that’s the spot isn’t it?”
the door is not wide open, but just enough that suguru can see his worst nightmare playing out in front of him.
his eyes zero in on the way your legs are wrapped around satoru’s tapered waist, your arms clinging to his broad shoulders as his strong hips meet yours. you look so blissed out, tilting your head back in ecstasy to give his best friend access to the sensitive skin of your neck. how could he? how could you?
you took your vows with him, it was suguru who took you in when you were nothing but poor trash on a street corner. him who begged satoru to not tell his parents how you really met. the thought of you betraying him this way makes his hands curl into fists.
he can’t help but feel jealous, how could he not? and who were you to make him feel jealous? you’re angry at him for neglecting you; spreading your legs for someone that suguru always felt second best to. you’re punishing him, you must be.
even so, he can’t will himself to intervene. he wants to drag you both out of his house and throw you back on the curb. he wouldn’t even let you grab your clothes — no. he wanted you exposed and cold on the porch so that all your neighbors knew how much of a whore you truly were. would they see his friend’s spend dripping down your supple thighs onto the pavement? see your nipples harden as you tried to cover yourself up?
even with all this anger, suguru can’t tear his eyes away from the sight. he thought he’d heard every whimper and moan from you but… not like this. you were so loud and out of breath, voice cracking as you clawed at satoru’s back with your pretty acrylics. you’d never been so good for him, so pliant.
he's still pissed, furious even. but from his position at the door he can see so much; satoru’s fat cock disappearing into your sloppy pussy; the shake of your tits with each thrust and the way satoru wraps his tongue around your perky nipples. suguru can even see the red crescents in your skin from where he grips the fat of your thighs.
he’d been with you more times than he could count but… suguru has never seen this much of his best friend. maybe in high school he’d had little peeks in locker rooms but right now he can see the muscles of his back vividly, how they turn and flex with each thrust. he can see the way satoru’s sweat drips down onto your body, his hand coming up to push soaked white strands back out of his face.
it’s only when his cock stirs in his slacks that suguru is honest with himself. he was jealous not only of satoru, but of you, too. he wanted to be pressed between the two of you, burying his cock in your hole while satoru plowed into his from behind.
he imagines worshiping your body with his tongue as satoru gripps his dark strands, bangs falling into his eyes as you begged him for more. more.
"you’re so pretty like this," satoru buries his face into your neck, pulling you tighter against his body so that you are chest to chest. "suguru doesn’t make you feel this way, does he?”
"n–no. never!”
“then tell me i’m better.”
“you’re — oh fuck — you’re better! ‘toru, i’m s–so close."
"yeah? can feel you squeezing me, does it feel that good?" he’s teasing you, just the way you like.
"fuck," suguru closes his eyes, his palm rubbing against his slacks, gripping his throbbing cock to the wet sounds of another man pounding into you. it’s so fucked. he knows this. but he can’t stop himself from unbuttoning his pants and tugging his cock out of his boxers. you didn’t know he was there but you both owed it to him. he just wanted a taste of what you had.
his breath hitches when satoru suddenly pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach before slamming back into your cunt. your body is pressed into the mattress, screams muffled as satoru fucks you at a agonizing pace. suguru starts to slowly pump his cock, letting a glob of spit land on his hand as it mixes with his precum.
he tries his best to match satoru’s thrusts, focusing on the way your ass jiggled everytime his hips slammed into the soft flesh. he can already tell from here that your skin will have bruises. how many times have you said no to sex to cover up the marks, satoru’s scent still on your skin? how many times did he find you asleep in bed, just narrowly missing his best friend sneaking out the back door?
“fuck! faster, p–please!”
"shh, it’s alright, baby. i’ve got you."
"i–i love you, ‘toru." suguru can see you push yourself back to meet satoru’s thrusts and he grips his cock harder.  “cum inside me.”
god, he’s fucking you raw, isn’t he?
satoru moans out your name, pressing his face into your spine. you bend so prettily for him, force yourself to be smaller so that he can take up all of the room you have left. “i love you, too, sweet girl. gonna get you pregnant, yeah?”
you arch your back even further, looking behind you for the first time only to lock eyes with your husband in the doorway. your makeup is wrecked, your hair in disarray. you can’t help but to shiver at the intrusion, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.
and something about the… way your pleasure filled gaze turns into fear has suguru cumming suddenly, grunting and failing to keep his moans at bay as he shamefully covers the wood floors and the front of his pants.
he doesn’t have time to question why satoru doesn’t seem fazed, the man gently pushing your head back down against the bed and continuing to chase his high. you gasp and try to lift yourself back up.
"hold on! satoru—"
"thought i told you to ignore him?" he says, a sly grin on his face. satoru glances back at his friend and lets out an amused laugh at his disheveled state. “never took you for a voyeur, suguru. isn’t your wife such a good girl?”
you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and satoru lifts his hands to squeeze your ass, spreading you open to spit on your hole. “gonna breed this tight little cunt like it deserves. couldn’t wait around for you to do it, right?”
suguru watches with bated breath, a hand lifting to grip the doorframe. he continues rocking his hips into his soiled hand. “be quiet,” he growls, shame traveling up his chest as a blush trickles up his neck and cheeks.
satoru doesn’t slow down and you’ve all but fallen limp in his arms. as he finally cums, satoru makes sure to be loud, making a show out of the final spurts of white that he pushes deep inside your womb. he pulls out slowly, hissing as he watches your pulsing heat fight to keep him inside.
satoru  glances back at the doorway.
“i know you’re angry at me or whatever, but i’m all spent and she still hasn’t came.” the white haired man looks at suguru with almost crazed eyes. “help her out, won’t you?”
at first, you look up at him in shock. “satoru–”
“this is what you wanted, right? for him to notice you.” he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, dragging you to the edge of the bed like you weigh nothing. “seems like a perfect opportunity to me, then.”
suguru watches as the two sets of eyes look at him expectantly, his hand going still as he weighs his options. “this stays between us, satoru” he chastises, making his way over to the bed and dropping to his knees.
“don’t worry, your perversion will be safe with me.” he sends him another dazzling grin, pressing a kiss to your knee. “now, get to work. you’ve neglected her long enough.”
suguru looks at the mess between your legs, salivating at the sight. his cum covered hand grips your thigh, the other spreading you apart to watch the way your pussy pushes satoru’s cum out in buckets. he leans in to lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, both of your juices coating his tongue in a salty glaze. “so good,” his voice is muffled as he moans, using both hands now to keep your thighs from closing around his head.
“sugu!” you gasp, satoru leaning over to tweak your sensitive nipples with his thumb and forefinger. you struggle against the overwhelming sensations, gripping on your husband’s dark hair as he fucks his tongue into you while simultaneously trying to move away from satoru’s hand.
you know you won’t be able to last long like this, your thighs shaking as suguru begins to thrusts his cum soaked fingers into your cunt. you feel a familiar pressure against your belly but something foreign lies underneath it.
“w–wait i don’t,” you whimper. “i’m gonna–”
a burst of liquid pours out of you, soaking your husband’s face as you spasm against him. “holy shit,” satoru sings, “look at you go!” suguru is drinking you in like a man starved, sucking and nuzzling his face into your cunt.
“sorry!” you whimper as you ride out your high, “‘m so sorry!”
suguru can barely remember his name over the ringing in his ears.
when you start to whine from overstimulation, satoru grips the back of his friend’s head and lifts him away from you. his face is ruined, dripping with both of your juices and his eyes looking even more hooded than usual.
satoru smiles down at him. “isn’t she amazing? put on a good show for you, yeah?”
suguru’s chest heaves as his dark eyes connect with deep blues. “i hate you,” he groans, roughly pushing away the hand in his hair.
satoru laughs, pulling you into his arms so that your back is against his chest. “hey, sweet girl,” you gaze up at him with drooping eyes, his hand gripping your chin. “you got one more for me? i think your hubby is hard again.”
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MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.
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emmyrosee · 7 months
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Bestie I’m begging on my hands and knees… please a crumb of kuroo and his twin baby girls 😭😭😭😭. You had me at “and were all gonna marry uncle kei” 😂🙋🏻‍♀️😂😂
Grocery store trips try so hard to be easy, but they tend to never be.
Between two twins in cart, your eldest 34 year old child riling up at every turn, you never seem to find the ability to have a normal trip to the market.
Today, however, there’s no big explosions of laughter, no fighting between the sisters, no crashes behind you as he pushes the cart, and it’s just. Nice, to have a normal day for once.
But then the car ride starts. And it all comes crashing down, your jaw slacking once you hear it.
“What do you want for lunch, girlies?”
“Whatever you want, Tetsu!” Comes Hanako’s response.
A massive foot slams hard on the brakes, making the car lurch forward and a gasp to come flying out of you. There’s a scream followed by a string of giggles from your conspiring twins.
Tetsuro pulls over. Then, he puts his hazards on, unbuckles, and turns in his seat to face them both. “What did you call me?”
“Tetsu!” Hanako chirps, and Hanae squeals next to her sister.
Tetsuro takes a deep breath in to calm himself down, only pausing to glare at you as he finally hears you stifling laughter. He scrubs a massive hand down his face, “Kuroo Hanako and Kuroo Hanae. That is not my name.”
“Yuh-huh!” Hanae argues. “It what momma and Uncle Kou call you.”
“When was the last time we saw Uncle Kou, and- you know what, not important.” Next to him, you finally let out an official burst of laughter, leaving Tetsuro to fight for himself. “I’m daddy, to you both. You’re aware of that, yes?”
“No!” They chirp in unison.
Tetsuro feels the vein in his head throb, you next to him being absolutely no help. “Girls, enough. I’m daddy. You don’t call me Tetsu.”
“What about tetsuro?” Hanae asks, and Hanako squeals in amusement next to her.
“Hanae, thin ice,” he says, and finally, you step in to help him.
“Girls,” you sigh in amusement. “Daddy doesn’t like it when you call him that. We know to respect daddy and his preferred name, don’t we?”
“Yes mumma!” The twins chirp in unison.
“Good; now what do you say when you accidentally use someone’s wrong name?”
“We’re sorry, daddy!” Hanae says quickly.
“Yeah,” Hanako continued. “We was just playing!”
Tetsuro takes an inhale through his nose and nods in agreement, “apology accepted, lovey girls,” he says, standing up to slip back into the drivers seat.
The ride starts back up in comfortable silence, engine roaring back to life as he continues to drive.
“But you know that I am going to get you both later, yes?” He threatens.
In the backseat, your two girls gasp and scream in anticipation, calling half hearted apologies to their dad up in the front. You snicker and move one of your hands to rest on his thigh lovingly, and he laces it with one of his own from the wheel.
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ghcstao3 · 4 months
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Johnny likes art. Likes looking at it, likes creating it, likes learning about it. He’d always known he’d end up in something involving it at the end of everything, and that he does.
For a few years now, Johnny has worked as an art restorer. Primarily fixing up paintings, it’s pretty close to ideal work—he gets to study all sorts of new styles, and bring pieces back to life so they can be admired again, as they were always meant to be.
The only downside is that it’s freelance work.
At the very least, gone are the days where Johnny had to make a real effort to establish himself—but just because he gets better jobs now, doesn’t mean he gets better supervisors.
His current employer is a great example of this.
Johnny had been hired by a man named Ghost, real name unknown, to revamp a private collection of his for an absurd amount of money. Johnny would be an idiot not to accept—even when part of the terms included working onsite and with provided tools in order to get everything done.
The house—manor, more like—is beautiful, nearly as stunning as the eclectic collection or artwork Johnny is meant to repair itself. He’s greeted by a man going by the name of John Price, supposedly a dear friend of Ghost’s, here to meet Johnny since his employer wouldn’t be home for another day yet. He’s kind, not strange like Johnny thought anyone involved with this might be, and he introduces Johnny to the few pieces he’d be working with.
It’s… intriguing, to say the least. Because the pieces come from different time periods, but all look as if in the same state of decay. It’s bizarre, Johnny thinks, because all other artwork in the home is pristinely kept.
That isn’t to say he’s not grateful for this opportunity, of course.
John makes good conversation until he ultimately leaves Johnny to his own devices. First day progress is well along, and by the time Johnny is seen out, he’s feeling optimistic about this job.
Then he meets Ghost.
It’s like the atmosphere of the manor has entirely shifted around the man and his broad, imposing figure. Even eyes that share the warmth of coffee pierce through Johnny, and Johnny isn’t sure what to think of the mask that obscures most of the man’s face otherwise. His voice, low and gravelly, rumbles through Johnny as he makes inquiries about the previous day, about Johnny’s process, then dismisses him to continue his restoration.
Even though Johnny doesn’t see him again until the end of his work day, he feels like he’s being watched all the while.
The third and fourth days are the same. The fifth, Ghost surprises Johnny by sitting in the room for part of the day, though he offers no commentary between incoherent grunts and what Johnny hopes to be hums of approval.
The sixth day, Ghost asks, “What do you think happened to the artist?”
Of course, there’s no signature, so even if it was by an artist Johnny knew of, there’d be no indication.
But he considers the question anyway. Considers the painting, it’s clear inspiration in impressionism, it’s pale colours and light, flowy strokes. And yet, it seems contradictory to the style—the scene within is almost… angry, sorrowful. Like grief. Its problem had been a tear in the canvas and fading paint, nothing overly difficult or unsurprising for Johnny.
So he shrugs. He doesn’t look back at Ghost, maybe afraid of that gaze, of gauging any reaction.
“Hard to say,“ Johnny admits. “A painting doesn’t tell a whole story about its inspiration, let alone its artist. And not knowing any of the artist’s other work, or when it began and ended—it’s hard to say.”
Johnny can feel Ghost looming over him. He tries not to shrink in on himself too much, but it’s almost impossibly.
For a long moment, Ghost doesn’t speak. He barely acknowledges Johnny’s response, and Johnny wonders if he’d ever get one.
If he had said the right thing.
“Hm,” Ghost finally decides. Johnny can feel his presence straighten, putting distance between them. He says, “I’ll give you a hint.”
Johnny offers a slight nod, eyes fixed on the painting before him. He still doesn’t dare turn back. “I’m always happy to learn.”
“This artwork, everything I’ve hired you to restore,” Ghost says, “it’s all from the same man.”
Immediately, Johnny frowns. His gaze darts across the piece and the collection of others he’s meant to look at, all of completely varying styles and forms, before whirling around to ask something, anything of Ghost’s statement—but he discovers Ghost to have already left.
Well, Johnny supposes with defeat.
He doesn’t know if he should let himself become curious.
(part 2)
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