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#it is a little less In Control but still trying very hard
frozenjokes · 2 days
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Idly, from the crack of his ajar bedroom door, Cub watched Scar through gentle eyes, the other sitting at the couch, ever so slightly slumped as he watched the news, or maybe watch was a strong word, because it looked a bit more like he was sleeping. An awake Scar was never so still, so relaxed, the rise and fall of his shoulders never so slow. An awake Scar typically knew when he was being watched, a strong internal sense, and he would turn around, arm draped over the back of the sofa with a lazy smile, and Cub might greet him, or he might just shut the door, the observation not nearly as fun when the other knew he was there. Cub smiled, basking in the opportunity to simply look without being known. Scar’s hair was a certified mess, more than it usually was, the funny little cowlick at the back of his head completely out of control. Not that Scar ever tried very hard to tame it anyway. But today he didn’t have to try at all, because today he was here, and there were no cameras, no scrutiny. Well, maybe there was a little scrutiny, but Grian wasn’t home right now. Just Cub. Just Cub.
Scar’s legs were in the shop today, routine maintenance and things, but instead of spending the day in town as he typically did on these types of off days, he asked to spend it here, to just hang out, relax. Take off the mask and not think at all. And who would Cub be to deny him?
There was something so deeply satisfying seeing him here, out of uniform. He had arrived in it out of necessity; very few people had no legs and wheelchairs decked out in HotGuy merchandise, but Scar had changed once inside, visibly reveling in the luxury of being Here. In a place with people he trusted. No mask. No legs. No uniform. Being.. Scar. Given the nuclear identity crises Scar had been experiencing lately, this was nothing short of the ultimate freedom. And what an honor to be able to provide that, to be trusted enough that even a man so deeply insecure of his place in the world could find it in himself to just relax around you. To be himself. To fall asleep on the sofa without the fear of sharp edges.
Cub ducked out of his room, tip-toeing over to shut off the news. He didn’t care to hear it, and didn’t think it was too good for Scar either, not today. The scene reimagined to his liking, Cub slunk back to his room then walked from it again, normally, and draped his arms around Scar’s neck, humming. Scar roused, and Cub got the pleasure of seeing him blink away sleep.
“Ello,” Scar mumbled, leaning back to hit Cub’s chest with his head, and Cub closed his eyes, a small smile forming across his lips (maybe. Sometimes when he thought he was smiling, he didn’t look any different at all, his mind’s eye only playing tricks on his physical sense of self).
“Hi. You tired?”
Scar gave the question a moment of thought, endearingly, trying to push back further into the couch, like the barrier between them was a great frustration. Cub didn’t make any move to be closer, internally amused. Scar sighed, “Not really. Just got a bit bored, closed my eyes. Was still listening.”
Cub very much doubted that. He didn’t think Scar was lying or anything, just that he simply didn’t know how asleep he really was. No point addressing it though. “That’s good. I was thinking about you, y’know.” Cub snaked around the side of the couch, settling himself half on top of Scar, probably with far less grace than he was imagining. Whatever the case, Scar didn’t seem to care, looking more delighted than anything to have Cub so close.
“Were you now,” Scar returned the gently flirtatious tone, always one for a little bit of a game. It was intense sometimes, looking Scar in the eyes, but there was such a deep contentment there today, and Cub found himself unable to tear his eyes away. “Well, you know I can’t help myself. I have to ask.”
Cub chuckled, burrowing a bit closer to rest his head in the crook of Scar’s neck. “Was thinking about the night we were together, just walking around on the streets. Talking. That kiss, it was a nice thing. It was a good night, just what I needed, really.”
Scar glowed, the little words having more of an affect on him than they ought to have on anyone, but then again, that was just Scar. So easy to please, his joy written for all to see in the bright lines of his face. He’d probably ride the high of those words for the rest of the evening, and Cub would be lying if it didn’t make him feel a little warm. How incredible it was to have that effect on a person. Though Scar, ever greedy a man, could never help but push, “Anything else?”
“Well..” Cub trailed, knowing Scar would hang off every word, “I was thinking about what we talked about. How you wanted someone to take care of you.” Cub let a hand wander to Scar’s thigh, hoping to get the message across, but not entirely confident this would be enough.
The reaction was adorably delayed, the gears behind Scar’s eyes visibly turning before his cheeks flushed, a nervous hand brushing through his hair, “Did I say that?”
Cub shrugged, “No idea. But I remember thinking it.” Cub grinned when Scar startled in his arms, making an attempt to backpedal, but no actual words left Scar’s mouth, and Cub snickered against his shoulder. “Don’t pass out on me now.”
“You’re the one trying to kill me!”
“Oh come now, I haven’t said anything at all. I just have a lot to give tonight, if you want it. All you have to do is ask.” Cub tried to smile, but at this point looking Scar in the eye was really getting overwhelming, so he stopped, letting the silence linger. “And I think it’s funny. That you like my teeth. I think it’s cute. Wanna know how much truth there really was to that little snippet you gave me before,” Cub opened his mouth, just a little, just enough to let the blunt edges graze the base of Scar’s neck, but he failed to anticipate the jolt of Scar’s shoulders at the touch, knocking him square in the face.
“Cuuuub!” Scar wailed, missing the soft grunt of surprise as Cub reeled backwards, as well as the slight movement to adjust his glasses.
“I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”
“No!” The word dropped just like the jolt of Scar’s shoulders, perfectly involuntary, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Scar looked sheepish for a moment, and he was the one who broke eye contact this time, beautiful in his quiet, “Just.. don’t bite?”
Cub smiled, and he was sure he did this time. “I can do that.” But he didn’t get to move before Scar swallowed him in a kiss, full and happy and too excited to hold it in, so perfectly Scar. Something like love warped Cub’s heart, not quite, that would come later, a latent realization sitting alone in bed, eyes wide, heart beating faster, unequivocally, irreconcilably in love. For now though, the warmth in his chest was well enough, the joy and hope that Scar had gifted him with open arms for all these weeks.. months now, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter, really. Cub wanted to give back. To show a kind of appreciation that was a little more explicit, to let Scar know just how much he cared, since Cub knew well enough it wasn’t always easy to tell. (Cub knew that Scar knew already, he knew Cub cared, but as far as romance goes, this was his own fantasy.)
there is more of this like. A lot more. But things ramp up be much less sfw and then not at all even a little sfw and it is like. It is not about the sex really story wise the focus is very romance and silly goofy but that doesn’t go here so if you want to read 7k words of absolute Nonsense you can find that on my ao3
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inkskinned · 1 year
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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.
i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.
what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.
so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.
and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.
and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.
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confessioncassette · 1 month
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𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫, 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐕𝐨𝐱 & 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨
𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤/𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞/𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞
𝐭𝐰 : 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰
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Lucifer :
𐕣 Has a pretty milky skin color with a rose gold tip. When he’s throbbing it turns darker
𐕣 Perfect length at 8 inches that curves slightly upward when hard. Normal girth with a pretty vein that runs underneath along his shaft.
𐕣 Golden pubes for sure. I believe his pubes would be trimmed down and neatly groomed - clean and ready for you whenever.
𐕣 When aroused, pretty little beads of precum decorate his tip. He would have a normal amount of wetness, enough to slick his cock easily when jerking off/getting ready to enter you.
𐕣 Loves to tease you with his cock head. Signature move would be rubbing his tip over your clit a few times before entering you.
𐕣 Pleasure dom. Would touch you all over, whisper and lick your ear… make you feel loved and caressed all over. But will have control of everything you do. Definitely into treating you like a baby
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Alastor :
𐕣 He’d have a girthy fucking cock. 8.5 inches with a little more girth at the bottom of his shaft.
𐕣 Reddish tip. His cock head perfectly portioned to the girth of his cock
𐕣 His dick wouldn’t curve much, stands pretty straight when hard.
𐕣 Would be a powerhouse when drilling into you, opening you up. He loves to watch his fat cock enter your body then look up at your face when he stretches you open.
𐕣 Wet. So wet. Precum oozes off of him and he uses this to an advantage. Would smear his slick over your cheek, your lips, would lube himself up if he feels nice enough. Otherwise he likes to force his way inside with no foreplay.
𐕣 Pretty neat pubes. He takes care of himself. They would be longer than Lucifer’s but trimmed.
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Vox :
𐕣 he would be a tad smaller but still at a lovely 7 inches.
𐕣 His cock beautifully curves upwards - and hits that spot inside you every time.
𐕣 No pubes. Literally clean shaven and shaved every morning in the shower. No, he doesn’t get razor burn.
𐕣 pretty blue tip with big balls. Absolutely loves when you play with him. His body twitches when you do.
𐕣 His dick gets real wet, especially when you suck on his shaft and take his balls in your mouth. Man would be dripping in precum.
𐕣 Loves when you suck his tip to clean him off and prefers when you place kisses along his shaft.
𐕣 Don’t let this fool you because he is very into power play.
𐕣 Very much into edging. Will watch you cry and cry until your body can’t handle it. You’ll end up having an orgasm before he says so- he’ll use this to punish you.
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Valentino :
𐕣 Looooong ass cock but skinnier. 9 inches with a purple cockhead and pinkish around the slit
𐕣 Slightly curved upward for your pleasure.
𐕣 Pubes are straight bush. He doesn’t shave but he’s clean. He could care less if you gag on it, it won’t suck itself, you know?
𐕣 will lay back and smoke a cigarette while you try to force his cock down your throat. And once you do, he’ll surprise you by shoving your head down to watch you gag.
𐕣 he doesn’t get very wet, but he will use your own slick to coat his cock before he enters you.
𐕣 Not much for foreplay or pleasuring you, he’ll lay back as you ride him. Hell spread his legs for you as you do all the work. He’ll blow smoke at your face and watch you through his glasses as you be a good girl and pleasure him.
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ryukatters · 6 months
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drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
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⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking
⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader
⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love
⟡ wc: 1.4k
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Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.
The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.
He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.
Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.
It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.
Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…
…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.
You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.
“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.
“That’s what you get,” you laugh.
“You’re mean.”
“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”
His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.
Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.
“My head hurts,” he whines.
“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.
Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”
“What?”
“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.
“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”
“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.
“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.
“Satoru…”
Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”
He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”
“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”
You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.
He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.
You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.
He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.
Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.
His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”
You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.
Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.
“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.
You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.
Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.
“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”
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a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎
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welcometomyoasis · 3 months
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Seventeen's reaction to their s/o being in the same variety show as them
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Synopsis: When your relationship isn’t public, how would seventeen react when you, their idol s/o, appears in the same variety show as them? Idol! Svt x idol gn! reader | idol au, fluff | 1.1k words | warnings: unsolicited comments | requested by anon A/n: honestly the svt members are already chaotic social butterflies so their behaviour wouldn’t really change? But the heart eyes would be real. Also, thank you anon for requesting my first idol au!! I actually really like idol aus and will prob write more at some point!
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Member exe. has stopped working
Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Dokyeom, Mingyu
☘︎ Why are you going to the same variety show as him? Do you want him to combust on the spot? He knows you can’t control which shows your group goes to for promotions, but this is such bad news for them. Sure he loves watching you in your element, talking about your group, the new songs you’ve released, dancing with that passion that he fell in love with. The thing is he loves watching you a bit too much. 
☘︎ During the show, his brain just stops working. Who cares about professionalism? He wants to admire the masterpiece that is you. He’s going to shoot out so many heart eyes at you. He watches with a look that says he is completely enamoured or smitten with you. He is in awe. He definitely would not be able to keep the goofy smile off his face. His mind goes blank. Of course, he would cheer for you as well. Loudly. Very very loudly. He’s just so proud of you. If he was feeling a bit daring, he might even post a selfie that you both took backstage. 
☘︎ The hosts might make a comment or two about how he’s falling in love with you. As long as it’s harmless jabs, you’re both usually okay with it though other members might try to steer the conversation away just to be safe. Still, he’s so obvious that his behaviour towards you is hard to ignore. The comments from the viewers would be full of things like “i want someone to look at me the same way he looks at y/n” or “he’s so in love with y/n i cannot” or “what’s going on in his brain?”
☘︎ Surprisingly, I don’t actually think that there would be much speculation about whether you both are dating. These members can somehow brush off their lovestruck behaviour with a smile. It’s just that these 4 members do always stop functioning at some point anyway? Their chaotic, mindless behaviour and cheering really isn’t that out of the ordinary when you think about it. They might become the butt of some jokes for a while but I feel like this whole thing would pass quickly enough. I guess it pays to be some of the most chaotic members? 
Is there something going on?
Woozi, Junhui, Wonwoo, Dino 
☘︎ Oh these members are in trouble. Unlike those in the previous group, these 4 have rather predictable behaviour when they are on variety shows. Woozi would participate in all the games and discussions but he isn’t the most outgoing. Dino is just Dinoing? Like he’s the baby of the group but he acts very maturely when he’s on variety shows. Junhui and Wonwoo tend to be on the quieter side. 
☘︎ So, when you show up on the same variety show, their behaviour is just too different. Woozi, Junhui and Wonwoo would participate and be much more enthusiastic. Even if they aren’t cheering loudly, they would stare at you with pride and adoration in the same way that they would stare at the rest of the svt members. They also would not hesitate to talk to you or interact with you during the discussion portions of the show. 
☘︎ With Dino, I do see him turning to become more whiny or acting a little less maturely to some extent? He might even instinctively turn towards you when his members tease him, as if he’s seeking reassurance or refuge. Or even if he tries to act the same, he will frequently sneak not so subtle glances at you like a school boy in love. 
☘︎ It’s the freedom and comfort that is seen in your interactions and their behaviour towards you that would definitely make people question if there is something going on? The behaviour would go viral with viewers being split between “he’s just having a weird off day which happens” or “oh they are definitely dating, if not he likes y/n”. Both your weverse lives and social media posts would have so many comments asking about your relationship. The speculation would go around for a while and these members won’t be able to shake the rumours off for a while.
Business as usual
Jeonghan, Joshua, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon
☘︎ Of course he’s excited that you will be going on the same variety show as him! He loves watching you but unlike the members in the previous two points, he knows how to hide his reactions better. He’s a professional about it. His opinion is that the best course of action is to act like himself. That way nothing seems out of the ordinary. 
☘︎ Jeonghan will be cheeky as always (no one is spared from his cheating and tricks, not even you). Joshua smiles adoringly at everyone and is a gentleman so he gets a free pass either way. Minghao might be a little more quiet than normal but I see people brushing it off because Minghao isn’t the most outgoing member on variety shows. Seungkwan is a professional host anyway so his interactions with you would appear normal (although his tone and gaze might be a bit softer). Vernon… is just Vernon. He stares blankly, interacts with others normally, and takes frequent sips of water. Whether or not his gaze is fixed on you or not, no one can tell. 
☘︎ On the inside though, he’s squealing at how good you look, how cool you look, how adorable you are. He makes a mental note to give you extra hugs and affection later because watching you makes him fall in love with you all over again. He loves you so much, but at this point when you both aren’t comfortable publicising your relationship, he will do everything in his power to remain professional. He knows you are doing the same. You both want to keep your relationship out of the public eye and the unsolicited comments that come along with it. So for now, he’s content with showering you in love in private. 
☘︎ And just say that he slips up slightly, or if the hosts/ viewers makes any unsolicited comments about the two of you possibly being in a relationship, he will brush them off by saying he’s just being supportive of his fellow idols. He will be very firm about it, and he would make sure that they know not to try and pry into your private lives further. 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee
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Maybe, Baby?
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Summary: You and Frankie aren't trying for a baby just yet, but when your weird symptoms start to throw your body for a loop, you start to wonder if you actually might be pregnant
Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K
Warnings: SMUT (18+), Unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap, silly gooses), creampie, praise kink, size kink (if u squint), unintentional breeding kink (lmaoooo, it's me, sorry not sorry), birth control/family planning, pregnancy (or maybe not? part 2 maybe? hehe) symptoms, Frankie and reader mention being closer to 30 than 16 (turns out when you're an adult, it's not a teen pregnancy anymore), reader has hair that can be played with, Frankie being the sweetest husband alive (all the gold stars for him), Frankie is so excited to be a dad that I just may pass away
A/N: I know y'all voted for me to finish chapter 20 but i lied (I'm so sorry), but I wrote this in a day and husband Frankie was really speaking to me on this one 😭 This one is brought to you by my raging baby fever and perhaps some real life inspiration WHOOPS, art imitating life on this one ig 💀 Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll!!!
Ever since getting off birth control a few months ago, your body had felt… different. 
While you were glad you had made the change for yourself, you still found yourself shocked every month when a new sort of symptom decided to appear at some point in your cycle that you had never dealt with before- acne in new places, weird cramps, and crazy mood swings that showed up out of nowhere before your period were just a few of the things you were learning to manage as you figured out your body post birth control. 
Another symptom you hadn’t expected was that now, you were insatiably horny. 
All the time. 
While Frankie had been more supportive and caring in helping you deal with all of your not so pleasant symptoms than you could have hoped for, he was also more than happy to help you with your newly found positive one, too. 
The only problem was, after so many years of not having to worry about the consequences of your sex life on birth control, you and Frankie were finding it very hard to adjust to be more… careful. 
As you got hornier and hornier, the box of condoms that Frankie had bought after you stopped taking the pill had been seeing less and less use, and to be honest, hadn’t really seen the light of day from the back of his nightstand drawer in about a month an a half- and if you were being even more honest, on top of that, Frankie’s pull out game was almost nowhere to be found. 
You both knew that you wanted a family in the future- That was a part of your reason for getting off birth control to begin with. The two of you had agreed to hold off at least for a little longer to try and get your life more in order before bringing a baby into it, but with with your new lack of protection when it came to sex, and constant horniness around the clock, you both were beginning to have a feeling that that your agreed upon timeline for having a baby might be harder for you to maintain that you thought. 
Especially when you found yourself morphing into an unspeakably horny monster when you were ovulating. 
So little did you realize, that as you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom as the two of you were getting ready for bed and you caught a glimpse in the mirror of Frankie, stripping out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers as he searched around in your dresser for pajamas, that was the reason you nearly spit out your entire mouthful of toothpaste to try and get a mouthful of something else. 
You couldn’t help but ogle at your husband's broad body and freckled tan skin, muscles flexing as he shuffled through your drawers, pulling out an old, worn gray t-shirt and tugging it over his head, running his hand through his messy, curly hair before searching for his pajama bottoms.
At this point, you had honestly braced yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter to keep yourself from falling over at how mouth-watering he looked, already feeling the wetness beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear at the thought of wanting to rip his clothes off just as fast as he had put them on. 
Letting out a yawn, Frankie raised his hands above his head so a sliver of his soft belly peaked out between his waistband and shirt hem before making his way into the bathroom, sleepily padding along the tile floor until his body was behind yours, chest flushed against your back and arms wrapped around your waist. Even more prevalent, his bulge pressed against your ass, making the wet spot in your underwear grow damper by the second. 
“You ready for bed, querida?” Frankie cooed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder and smiling at your reflections in the mirror. 
While you were absolutely ready to get into bed, sleeping was not going to be your activity of choice.  
“I think that maybe…” You paused, turning around to face Frankie, his body caging yours against the counter, palms splayed flat on either side of your hips, looking down at you with his sweet, brown eyes, “I think that maybe we should do something else before we go to sleep.” 
“Something else, huh?” Frankie smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as your hands began to run up and down his arms, slightly squeezing the muscles of his biceps as your fingers crept under the fabric of his shirt sleeves. “And what might that something else be, Hermosa?” 
“You know exactly what it is, Fransisco. You expect me to watch you just roam around shirtless in our bedroom and not get all hot and bothered? God, you’re so fucking hot.” You moaned, letting your hands run up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him in for a long, electric kiss. 
“Damn, what’s gotten into you, babe?” Frankie chuckled, trying his best not to blush at your comment, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 
“I don’t- Fuck, I don’t know, I just know that if you don’t fuck me right this second, I think I’m gonna explode.” 
While your statement may have had a flair for the dramatic, it was just about as close to the God’s honest truth as you could get- You were so worked up, you felt practically feral, the ache in your core so strong that you really did feel like you were on the verge of implosion. 
Before you even gave Frankie time to respond, your lips were crashing into his with a ferocious intensity, your hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt as you stumbled back towards your bedroom, bodies bumping and bouncing against the walls and door frames, mouths never parting as the back of Frankie’s knees finally hit the mattress, forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed. 
Crawling overtop of him, you were already straddled over his hips, grinding your bottom half on the bulge growing in his pajamas as your hands crept under the hem of his t-shirt, running along the tanned, soft skin of his chest, making him let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat. 
Frantically shuffling himself further onto the bed, Frankie’s hands dug into your hips and over your ass as your hands slid down from his chest to his waistband, fingers tugging at the elastic to shuffle his bottoms and boxers down his legs, quickly followed by your own, dropping to a crumpled pile on the floor. 
Feeling your fingers wrap around his cock, already painfully hard, you swirled the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb before dragging your hand up and down his length, leaving Frankie sitting up in surprise while he watched you begin to hover over him, dragging his dick through your folds. 
“Hermosa, are you sure you don’t need me to-” But before Frankie could finish the rest of his protest to make sure you were ready to take him, you were already sinking down onto him, whimpering at the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness, followed by the ragged moan escaping Frankie’s lips. 
“Oh fuck… Nuh uh, Frankie. I need to feel you, baby. Needed to feel you inside me.” You whined, taking Frankie cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure. 
Normally with Frankie’s size, you would have needed to warm you up first, but with how wet and worked up you already were, you were able to take him with ease, desperate to feel him buried deep inside you. 
“Jesus fucking christ, queirda, you’re so fucking wet. Fuck, baby.” Frankie moaned, feeling you begin to slide up and down his length, coating him with your arousal with each swirl of your hips. 
Arching your back, you jutted your hips forward, bracing your hands on Frankie’s strong thighs, circling your bottom half against his, whimpering at his fullness and the hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your clit, selfishly already longing to chase your own high to ease the ache that had been burning in your core. 
“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. Feel so fucking full with you in me.” You whimpered, bouncing even harder and faster on Frankie’s cock, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping his and wetness dripping from your heat coating the walls of your bedroom. 
“Yeah? This what you wanted, pretty girl? Wanted me to stretch this pretty little pussy out and fill you up?” Frankie groaned, gritting his teeth as he began to jut his hips up into yours as you rode him, the added depth of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure. 
And for as fucking good as it felt, the horny monster you had morphed into had you greedily craving more- to have Frankie stretch you open in a way that had you seeing stars, so much that you could still feel the next day, long after the two of you were finished. 
“I-I want more, p-please, baby. Fuck- Fuck me harder, Fransisco.” You cried, your sweet voice whimpering his full name turning him almost as feral as you were, letting out a low growl as he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you so that your back hit the mattress and he was caging his broad body over yours. 
Practically ripping the t-shirt still covering your upper half off your body, Frankie dove face first between your breasts, groping one while hungrily sucking at the other, flicking your pebbled nipple with his tongue, his free hand reaching down to line his cock back up with your entrance, sliding back in to your aching core with ease. 
Frankie let himself sink all the way back in, filling you to the brim before hooking his arms around your knees, pressing your legs against your stomach, smirking to himself at the ragged moan you let out as the new angle opened you up even further. 
“You want me to fuck you harder, Hermosa?” Frankie mewled, slowly dragging his length out of your heat, looking down to see your shiny slick soaking his cock before looking back at you and the wrecked expression plastered across your face, frantically nodding in desperation. “Tell me how badly you want it, sweet girl.” 
“Fuck, I need you so bad, Fransisco, please.” You begged, damn near close to tears with how deeply you needed to feel Frankie ease the emptiness inside you. “Please, baby, I- oh fuck-”  
Before you could even finish the rest of your plea, your breath was already hitched in the back of your throat as Frankie began to pound into you at a relentless pace, tightening his grip around your thighs while he pressed them closer to your chest, grunting with each rut of his hips into yours. 
“This what you want, querida? Meirda- so fucking wet and tight, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, holy fuck.” 
It didn’t take long for the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine to start spreading through your body like a wildfire as Frankie continued to slam into your g-spot, making you chant his name like a prayer, your brain at a loss for any other words than “Fuck, Fransisco.” 
And as if you already weren’t close enough, when Frankie reached down to thumb at your clit, rubbing in relentless circles against your sensitive nub, you knew you were a fucking goner. 
“That’s it, Hermosa. Cum for me, baby. Want that- oh fuck- want that prefect pussy to fucking soak me.” Frankie groaned, feverishly pounding into you, desperate to feel you come undone for him giving him long enough to fight off his own high that was rapidly building in the pit of his stomach. 
A few more thrusts were all it took to have the coil snapping in your belly, crying out Frankie’s name as you came, orgasm ripping through your body with a blinding intensity, eyes scrunching shut and jaw hanging open while pleasure and euphoria flowed through every ounce of you. 
Still blissed out and wrecked out of your mind, your eyes shot open as Frankie’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans in a messy dance of tongues and teeth. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Jesus fuck-  fuck, I’m close too, baby. W-where do you want me, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, barley holding on long enough for you to answer, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his hips began to stutter, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow with every ounce of self control he had left. 
Still barley coherent enough to form a sentence, your brain blurted out the only thing you could think of, and the only thing that you really wanted in the moment. 
“Inside, Fransisco. Fuck, cum inside me, baby.” 
That alone was almost enough to send Frankie over the edge, letting out a long, low groan, sloppily rutting into you as his brain went blank alongside yours, starting to babble incoherently. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck- you want me to fill you up, queirda? Fuck, I’ll fucking fill you up so good you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Oh fuck, shit baby, fuck, oh I’m gonnaahhhhhh-“ 
Just like that, Frankie took one last thrust, spilling deep inside you, coating your walls with his spend as his body slumped into yours, the pair of your chests rising and falling in sync as you both came back down to earth. 
“Jesus Christ… Holy fuck, Frankie.” You giggled quietly to yourself, blissfully filled with post orgasm ecstasy as your husband carefully pulled himself out before rolling over next to you on the bed, pulling you close against his chest. 
“Fuck me, Hermosa, holy shit.” Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, tracing small circles on your back as he held you, heat radiating off of each other's sweat-ridden bodies. “God, I love you. We should probably get you cleaned up. You wanna shower?” He asked, smirking as your face lit up at his nearly rhetorical question. 
“Only if you’re up for round 2, Morales.”   
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“My eyes are up here, Fransisco.” 
“Hmmm? What did you say?” 
“Exactly my point. Can you stop looking with your man eyes and look with your normal, helpful people eyes to help me decide on a dress for Benny and Victoria’s wedding?” You sighed, laughing to yourself as you raised an eyebrow at Frankie, his gaze still fixed on your chest. 
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be helpful.” Frankie huffed, overdramatically rolling his eyes at you, playfully throwing his hands up in defense as he leaned back against the dressing room door, looking you up and down in one of the cute floral dresses you had picked to try on for your friends’ upcoming wedding. “It’s just that… Nevermind.” 
“It’s just that what, Frank?” You asked tilting your head in confusion at your husband as his eyes traveled back to your breasts, furled look in his brow like he was really staring there to prove a point. 
“It’s just that- Baby, I don’t know if it’s just the dress or what, but your boobs look huge. Like, they always look good, believe me, but like… Whew.” Frankie whistled, practically shaking his head in disbelief at how good you looked. 
“Really?” You asked, turning around to face the mirror in the dressing room, gently cupping your breasts, grimacing as you held them in your hands. “Yeah, I guess they do… Honestly, I was gonna complain about how sore they’ve been all day. I wonder if maybe my period is just coming early?” 
“Maybe? You did ride me pretty hard the last couple nights and put on a good show, so maybe they hurt from all that bouncing and-” 
“Frankie! We are in public!” You playfully scolded, giving him a flimsy slap to the chest to cut off the rest of his thought, the two of you quietly giggling to yourselves and trying to “Shhhh” each other from drawing too much attention to your dressing room stall. “The dress, you goofball, yes or no? Sooner we pick, the sooner we can go get food, because your wife is starving.” 
“I vote yes on the dress. You look beautiful in it, querida.” Frankie smiled, stepping behind you to press a kiss on the side of your head. 
“You just like it because it makes my boobs look huge.” 
“What? Can you blame me for wanting to stare at my gorgeous wife’s boobs all night?” 
“God, you are ridiculous, Fransisco. Fine, boob dress wins. Now let’s get out of here and go get some food before you get stuck in a titty trance and I die of hunger.” 
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While the rest of your Saturday was spent enjoying the delicious Mexican food that you had picked up on the way home and a much needed night in on the couch with Frankie, there was a tiny part of your brain that couldn’t seem to shake his comment from earlier about how big your boobs looked. 
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him, because truth be told, they felt huge, too. They had been sore since you had woken up this morning, and while you had chalked it up to what you and Frankie had been up to the past few nights, or bad PMS symptoms, there was still just something about you that felt off. 
Later that night, during your movie marathon, you had paused whatever new action movie Frankie had been begging to watch since it had popped up on Netflix a few days ago for a popcorn refill. 
While Frankie meandered around the kitchen waiting for the next bag of popcorn to finish popping, you stayed curled up with your blanket in your corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, until a sharp twinge began to cramp in your lower stomach. The feeling took you by surprise, digging your fingers into your side to try and ease the dull and achy sensation as your face scrunched in confusion, wondering why in the world you had what felt like period cramps in your belly. 
“Hey, you okay, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, returning with popcorn in hand, his face painted with concern to see the pained look scrunched between your brow as you curled deeper into the couch. 
“Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. I just um, I just had a weird cramp I guess. Probably just ate all that popcorn too fast.” You replied, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Frankie that you were overthinking whatever mystery symptoms had just flashed through your lower half. 
“Here, lemme just set this popcorn down and then I can rub your back while we finish the movie, okay?” Frankie smiled softly, setting down the bowl on the coffee table before crawling back under the sea of blankets on the couch with you, laying your head against his thigh like a pillow while his hand traced up and down along the small of your back. 
“Thanks, Frankie.” You whispered quietly, taking a few deep breaths as the familiar warmth of your husband’s palm worked up and down the worn fabric of his shirt that you had put on earlier. 
“Of course, baby. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Just promise me you’ll take it easy on the popcorn if you have any more there, Killer.” 
The two of you laughed quietly as Frankie leaned down to press a soft kiss into your messy hair laid across his lap before picking up the remote to let the rest of the movie play as your eyelids began to get heavier and heavier as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 
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“What’s inside this box?” 
“Open it up and find out! It’s a surprise for you!” 
“Okay? Huh, why is it just a pregnancy test in there?” 
“It’s yours! Congratulations! You’re having a baby!” 
“Ahhhhh!” You shrieked, panting as you woke from a cold sweat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck…” You whispered to yourself, coming to and realizing that you were now awake and had only been dreaming moments before this. Running your hands over your face, you blinked a few times to be greeted by the dim light of the TV still flickering in the background, Frankie sprawled out and snoring by your side where the two of you must have fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. 
“What a weird fucking dream…” You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you quietly pushed yourself off the couch to stumble to the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to check what ungodly hour of the night it had to be since the two of you had crashed on the couch. 
2:07 A.M. 
You let out a low grumble, pushing your sweatpants down to your ankles as you sat down to pee, blinking your eyes open wider to look through the notifications piled on top of each other on your lockscreen. Mindlessly swiping through a few junk emails and text messages from group chats, one notification in particular caught your eye, rousing you from your half awake state. 
“Feeling down? As you begin your Luteal Phase of your cycle, it’s normal to be less cheerful compared to last week when you were Ovulating! Click to track your cycle symptoms for today!” 
Oh shit.  
You could feel your heart beginning to race as you opened up the app, scrolling to the calendar tracker for the month. Swiping through the days, it didn’t take you long to realize that despite all of your weird symptoms you had been chalking up to PMS, you were almost two weeks away from starting your period. Frantically scrolling backwards, you began to try and rack your brain of all of the times in the past week that you had sex with Frankie while you would have been ovulating, and out of that number, how many times he hadn’t finished inside you, let alone even attempt to pull out. 
And that number was a big, fat zero. 
That’s when it hit you like a fucking freight train- You weren’t PMS-ing.
More than likely, you were pregnant. 
“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling and heart pounding as you buried your face in your trembling hands, your mind flooding with a million different thoughts all at once. 
How could you not remember that you were ovulating? Would Frankie be upset? The two of you weren’t even trying for kids right now. Would you be a good Mom? What were you even going to need to do to prepare? Your house was starting to get small for just you and Frankie, let alone a baby. How were you going to find a new place to live in 9 months? And get a new car? How were you- 
“Baby, you good in there?” Frankie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a yawn as he opened the door, bright light flooding into the hallway and revealing the sobbing mess you had become, still pants down, hunched over the toilet. 
“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Baby, baby, what’s going on? Talk to me, Hermosa. Are you okay? What happened?” You could feel Frankie’s demeanor immediately switch as soon as he saw you in the bathroom, instantly dropping to his knees by your side, his hands gently grabbing your face to shift your gaze towards him, carefully swiping his thumb to dry the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks. 
“Frankie, I- I- Fuck.” You stuttered, gulping hard as you tried to catch your breath, fighting back your nervous sobs as you locked eyes with Frankie, wondering how in the world you were ever about to brace him for the news you were about to tell him. 
“Hermosa, what is it? Please, tell me baby, what’s wrong?” Frankie pleaded, softly squeezing your face in reassurance as he waited for your response. 
You took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself enough to at least try to get a coherent thought out, swallowing hard as the words left your mouth. 
“Frankie, I-, Frankie, I think- I think I’m pregnant.” 
Frankie’s eyes went wide, his jaw practically hanging open as he tried to process what you had just told him, wondering if he hadn’t heard you right in his groggy state. 
“W-what?” 
“I think I might be pregnant, Frankie.” 
Before you could even bear the thought of looking at his face again, filled with fear that it would be a look of shock and disappointment, you buried your face in your hands again, fighting with everything in you not to cry and keep your composure. 
Frankie sat quietly for a moment, his hand covering up the gaping hole his jaw had made as it nearly hit the floor, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling your hands to look at him. 
“R-really? You- fuck- You really think you’re pregnant?” 
As your eyes met his, you couldn’t believe the look on your husbands face- Not only was Frankie practically grinning from ear to ear, the sweet brown of his puppy dog eyes were welling with happy tears of their own, waiting on your every word as if he still didn’t believe what he was hearing. Silently, you began to slowly nod your head, biting down on your tongue, your heart feeling like it was about to shoot out of your chest. 
“You’re...y-you’re not upset?” You stammered, sitting up a little taller at Frankie’s reaction. 
“Upset? Hermosa, why in the world would I ever be upset?” Frankie laughed quietly, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as his other hand cupped your jaw. “Querida… There’s nothing more I want on this earth than to have a family. And-fuck- The fact that it gets to be with you? That you might give me a family? How could I ever be upset about that? 
“Well it’s not like we were really trying for a baby, Frank. We said another year or two. With the house and money -” 
“Hey. We’ll figure it all out, okay? I promise, we’ll be more than okay.” Frankie smiled, his goofy grin still stretched wide between his cheeks, finally easing some of your worry. 
“I don’t even feel like I’m old enough to have a kid. I feel like I need to call up MTV to tell them I’ll be on the next season of 16 and Pregnant.” The two of you snorted, shaking your heads in awestruck disbelief that a stupid joke about a reality TV show could soon become your reality. 
“Well considering we’re married, have a house, and most importantly, are much closer to 30 than we are 16, I think they may have a hard time pitching the show “Married Couple Has a Baby”.” Frankie teased, giving you a playful nudge as the two of you laughed, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before trying to dig into details. “Did- Did you take a test? How long have you known?”
“No, I don’t know for sure yet, Frank. It’s… It’s just a feeling, I guess. But the huge, sore boobs, weird, period-like cramps and the fact that we really haven’t been the most careful are all pretty good clues.” 
“Well, I mean, I don’t know, we’ve tried to be care-” 
Before Frankie could even finish the rest of his thought, you were already giving him the sassiest look you could muster in your overwhelmed and sleepy state, making the two of you laugh again he let out a sigh of defeat. 
“Okay, yeah, we really haven’t been that careful at all. Sweetie, listen, I- I know it’s not what we had planned, but… I mean, if you are pregnant…” Frankie paused, smiling at your stomach as he gently place a hand over your belly, tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes, “Baby, I would be so excited. Nervous as hell, but so fucking excited.” 
“Me too.” You sniffed, looking down at Frankie’s palm splayed across your stomach, heart swelling at the thought of Frankie being dad, thinking of how sweet and caring and perfect he’d be as you grew your little family together. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Frankie in close, letting out a shaky sigh, whispering your words through happy tears. 
“I love you so much, Frankie.” 
“I love you so much too, Hermosa. More than anything.” 
For the sake of Frankie’s shoulder, you pulled away to wipe your tears to keep from soaking your husband’s shirt, quietly laughing to yourself at the fact that this whole time you had been talking to Frankie, you had still been pantsless, hunched over the toilet. 
“It probably would have been way more romantic to tell you all of this not at 2:30 in the morning, pantsless and hunched over the toilet like a little gremlin.” You snorted, Frankie following suit as he shook his head, running his hand through the sleepy curls of your hair. 
“I wouldn’t want it any other way, mi amor. C’mon, let’s get you up to bed.” 
As the two of you sleepily trotted your way upstairs, curling together under the warmth of your comforter with Frankie’s chest pressed against your back, you couldn’t help but smile as his arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on your belly while his thumb traced soft circles on your skin, imagining what it would be like if a few months from now if you really were getting ready to add another member to your family. 
The next morning, as the sunrise began to spill through your curtains, casting bright orange and pink shadows on your bedroom walls, you couldn’t help but stir as the familiar scent and warmth of Frankie’s body was missing from his side of the bed.
 As you sat up in the sea of blankets and comforters, softly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw Frankie’s frame quietly sneaking through the bedroom door, fresh mug of coffee and bag of breakfast in hand with a stupid smile plastered across his face as he was greeted with your barely awake grin. 
“Good morning, beautiful.” Frankie cooed, setting down the coffee and breakfast down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, pressing a tender kiss into the sleep-ridden ends of your hair before wrapping his arms around you in a long embrace. 
“Good morning, handsome.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a little grunt and laying your head on Frankie’s shoulder. “What’s all this for?” You asked, gesturing towards the coffee and oversized McDonald’s bag, assuming it was the reason for Frankie’s absence when you woke up. 
“I- I don’t know, I uh- I was just really excited when I got up this morning. It was early, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I made a trip to CVS to buy some pregnancy tests for you and figured I’d pick up breakfast on the way home.” Frankie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, brushing past his untamed morning curls. “I know- I know you can’t really take the tests yet- I spent a lot of time reading the boxes in the store and wasn’t really sure what the best one was to take, so I got like, 4 different ones for when it's time.” 
“God, you’re so sweet. You’re the best, you know that? It’s about to be a long week of waiting before I can take one of those. Do you- fuck, Frankie, do you think it could really be positive?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes again as you smiled up at your husband, already beaming back at you, picturing the two pink lines showing up on all of the tests he had bought for you. 
“Maybe, if we’re lucky.” He smirked, gently cupping your face, swiping his thumb across your face. “But if it’s not, then maybe… Maybe we start trying for a positive one on purpose.” 
“R-really?” You grinned, biting down on your lip in excitement. 
“Really, really.” Frankie replied, bringing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss, soaking in the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “And maybe…” 
“Maybe, what, Fransisco?” You giggled, bringing your mouth back to his in a sweet and sloppy kiss. 
“Maybe…. We start trying right now, ya know, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want all those pregnancy tests to go to waste.”
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fangsandfeels · 6 months
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The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes
So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".
Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.
Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.
Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.
But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:
Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."
From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves
And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.
Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.
Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.
Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.
Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.
So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.
For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.
However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.
So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.
On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
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𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict
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You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.
“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”
You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.
It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.
“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”
“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”
“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.
“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”
“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”
He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.
“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.
“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.
“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."
He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."
"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"
"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.
"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"
That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"
"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."
He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"
Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"
"I dunno," he muttered.
"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"
He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.
"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."
"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."
He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.
A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.
Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.
"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.
"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.
But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.
He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?
Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.
He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—
Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to lean forward.
"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."
Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.
You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.
It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.
Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…
You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.
Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"
You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.
"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.
You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.
It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.
For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.
"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"
It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.
He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."
Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.
That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.
That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.
You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.
He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.
When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.
"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"
When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.
You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.
After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.
He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.
"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."
He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"
He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.
"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.
With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.
"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"
Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.
"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"
You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."
You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.
"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"
You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.
"No? You're a good girl?"
You nodded, moaning around him.
"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"
You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.
"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"
"No," you answered.
"No sir," he corrected.
"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.
"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"
You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.
"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."
You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.
"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"
As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…
"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.
It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.
"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.
"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."
With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"
He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"
He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.
"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.
He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.
"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."
You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…
"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.
"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.
"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"
"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"
He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.
"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."
"Who feels good?"
"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.
"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"
Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"
"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."
"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.
"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.
"Yes!"
"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."
He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck. The way you gasped in anticipation, your walls restricting around him excitedly, gave you away completely.
"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.
He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.
"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."
He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.
Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?
"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.
"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"
"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.
"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.
When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.
"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.
"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"
He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.
"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.
"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."
Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"
He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.
"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.
You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.
"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"
He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.
"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."
Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.
"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"
"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.
"Do you want me to?"
After hesitating, you shook your head.
"No?" he pressed.
"No," you admitted in a pout.
"Ask me not to," he ordered.
"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.
"What's that? You don't want it?"
"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.
"So I can't?"
You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.
"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."
You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.
"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."
"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.
"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."
"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"
He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?
'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.
"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.
At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.
"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.
"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."
"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"
"Come, whore."
He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.
His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.
"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."
When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"
"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.
"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"
His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.
You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."
"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"
He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.
"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"
You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"
He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."
You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.
"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"
You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.
"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"
Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.
"Yeah, that's what I thought…"
6K notes · View notes
ladyelissarose · 10 months
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‘Stop Thinking!’
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Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader
Warnings; 4K!!! NSFW, smut. Very fluffy- Like fluffy overload. Soft Miguel. I feel like he would be such a soft and sweet person while off-work. (Like look at how sweet he was with Gabriella) anyways. Enjoy y’all!

Author’s note: so this is my first time writing smut. I have no experience in this area of writing. But I wanted to try something new for y’all. So far I’ve been learning from all the amazing smut fics I’ve read. (There are some great ones out there!!) So please, I’m willing to take some word from y’all if y’all like or see something that is fixable! Likes and reblogs are much appreciated- much love y’all! message me if you’ll like to mention something in private;)
“Oh!- Miguelll. Ah! That’s tickles.”

You let out a soft giggle as Miguel laid on top of you in bed, at your shared apartment, kissing your soft stomach wherever he pleased. You both decided to take the day off, (more like you pushed him to finally agree because you saw how exhausted he was) after being stressed out and running on 24 back to back shifts all to protect the spider-universes.
Jess and Peter B. had it in their control, along with LEGO Spider-Man too, (Miguel actually trusted that poor LEGO and seemed more at peace with him along with the others than not.) Anyways, while a very attention deprived Miguel tried to shower you in his once all pent up love and touch, you were too busy still thinking and being busy.

“I wonder if Hobie is going to pull a funny prank once you get back, he hates your guts yet can never leave your lair area.”

Miguel mumbled incoherent words as his lips kissed every part of your soft tummy, your shirt now scrunched up to your neck. You were in simple panties while Miguel rested in his boxers, choosing to have less clothing between the two. You felt Miguel all over you, relaxing in his touch but thought a little more before adding,

“Baby can I babysit MayDay one day? So Peter B and you can work better together and he’s not very distracted?”
This time he let out a groan which you considered a ‘yes’.

“Oh yay!”
To that he softly bit your tummy, to which you let out a soft squeak but nonetheless put forth,
“Or maybe I’ll go on a mission with all the teens, they all seem pretty fun, especially Miles and Pavtir. Gwen gives me ‘mommers’ energy, I’ll invite her to the mall instead. ohhhh.”

 He had just left a super wet kiss in between your breasts after giving attention to them, but he replied,
“Hmm hmm amor.”
Miguel loved to hear you talk, it was no doubt that hearing your voice made his day better (especially when certain spiderlings gave him a hard time.)
But right now, he didn’t want to hear that, he just wanted to hear your soft sighs, those little hitched breaths when he kissed a certain spot. Although more than any of those, it was the whimpers and pleading cried you made for him, along with the sweet moans that were addicting and music to his ears.
Buuuuuut, you wouldn’t god damn shut up. Your mind was working to fast instead of slowing down.
“Hey Miguel, when do you think Jess will have her bab-“
Ok, he has had it, pushing his hair back with one hand he lifted up off of your for a second before stressing out his desperation,

“Por Dios amor, can you shut the hell up for one minute?”
Silence filed the room instantly, you snapped out of your chatty self and saw Miguel’s warm brown eyes hold a yearning in them, and he was breathing hard yet letting in and out slowly. You felt bad for being selfish much, and for not being able to decompress for him.
“I’m sorry Miguel.”
A pout fell on your lips which he kissed away instantly,
“It’s ok amor... I’m not mad. Just... relax.”
You nodded and he then kissed you, feeling that you might give in already, but you began to make excuses against his lips. Mumbling the words against him as he had refused to separate from your lips,
“-ut Migg-“
He pulled away with a huff and held up a very serious finger to your lips gently,
“Don’t ‘But Miggy’ me. Miguel, your boyfriend is telling you to shut up and let me love you. No more work, or nothing. All I want to hear from those pretty lips is moans and my name. Es todo, y nada mas.”

A little snicker passed your lips as you then exaggerated with heavy pants,
 “Oh yeah! Yes please! Ohh- AH MIGUELLL! Oh- fuck!!”

Miguel let out a delicious chuckle with a smirk, groaning lowly as he seated himself deep inside you, relishing in the fact of how you squeezed him so perfectly, hitting all the right spots for him. You were left breath and wordless, as his sudden act caught you off guard and now shut up. You let out a shaky breath and a small moan, trying to suppress it as he pressed in harder and held his place as he whispered to your ear,

“Wanna be quiet now? Thought you wanted to be loud? Hm queirda?”

Teasingly he dragged his fangs across your neck, placing feather light kisses behind the wet trails he left. You squeezed his broad shoulders tightly and in that moment you tried to admire his stealth and magnificence above you, but your mind went racing, and you lost yourself in his eyes as you once again went into thinking,
‘How’d his big size fit in so quickly and unexpectedly-‘

“Amor. Are you ok with this- I’m sorry if I-“
Miguel had the guiltiest frown and started to pull away, and you felt as if your air was being taken from you. How could he think he was in the wrong for absolutely praising and pleasuring you?
With grabby hands you pulled him flush against your chest as you pleaded,
“No no no! You’re ok baby, I swear.”

 His brow picked up a bit as he then asked curiously, showing how much he actually cared about ‘you’ over everything, even while still balls deep inside you,
“Then what’s wrong amor? Hm?”

His homey brown eyes bore only yours as you calmed him,
“Sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.”

 His frown was long gone as he pursed his thick lips and couldn’t help but tsk,
“You still have a question do you?”

Your cheeks burned bright red as you slowly nodded and whimpered,
“yes.”
He propped himself on his elbows to not crush you as he then threatened with a kiss to your nose,
“You have one last question to ask before I rail you until you stop thinking.”

 A breath left your chest in satisfaction as you wiggled a bit, biting down a moan from feeling him swell harder in you, and perfectly ignoring how he bit his lips hard to contain himself. You then raked your hands across his back as you perked,
“How’d you squeeze yourself so easily inside of me? When it usually takes-“
Then you took one of his hands and kissed his knuckles before continuing,
“-your fingers to warm me up?”

 Miguel let out one of his warmest smiles that had a hint of tease in it as he replied,
“Well... you were to busy thinking up here *kiss on your head* instead of thinking down here!-“

And with a quick pull back he slammed himself back into you, causing you to arch into him and this time really moan out,
“Ahhh! Oh Miiiguel.”

“Si? I’m here amor. And you-“
Another deep thrust*
“-were long ready before you even knew it.”
deep thrust*
“Oh go-“
“No amor.. just me.. Miguel. Vamos amor, say my name.”
Lust and pride burned red in his eyes as he looked down at your smaller form under his, adoring every move and sound you made, because of him.
With gentle but hard moves he thrusted into you, being the cause of your short breaths and little whimpers that he was now happy to receive and hear. Arms wrapped around him you pulled yourself up and bit onto his lips, and you left him a sweet kiss before challenging with a sultry voice,

“Make me, Miguel.”

His slower, languid movements suddenly stopped, as he watched you look up at him with a high chin. You let go of his arms and dropped yourself back down, lifting your arms above your head and resting them there. You were sure in a damn mood huh? But it only excited you and brought more to your arousal when he growled,

“Lo hare entonces.”

 Eyes now glowing red, in seconds he had one hand clasped with both of yours, fingers intertwining in a bruising grip, holding them high above your head. With his other hand, he put a soft pressure on your lower stomach, and trailed it up, expanding his fingers to get a whole feel of your skin against his. He stopped his hand right at your throat, his sweet voice betraying his sharp demeanor when he asked- of not pleaded,

“Por favor amor? Do you trust me?”

You sent him a confident smile with a verbal reply, knowing he preferred those for good confirmation,

“Yes love. I trust you.”

Fingers embracing the hold your neck gave him, he squeezed lightly, not wanting to push it too much, but it was just the right amount.
Miguel loved pushing you and trying new things, but he always did it after asking and making sure you were absolutely comfortable. If not he wouldn’t ask twice to do it or make you feel bad about not going with it.
Now your legs found place around his waist, hugging him tightly as he had pulled back and you refused him to go any further out.
But your worries about that were cut short when he began to pour his love out to you with every sharp thrust. Hitting every spot in you had you almost seeing stars, warmth seeped into you from the inside out. Low whimpers escaped his lips all while he made sure loud moans came from yours.
Also, one thing Miguel couldn’t go through this without- was the praise.
“You’re taking me so well amor, eres perfecta. All mine hm?”
A kiss to your lips he added,
“Look at you, hermosa. Tan bueno... look at me.”
You eyes had tried to flutter shut, but at his whimpering plea you couldn’t deny him. Your fucked out eyes looking into his hungry and lustful ones, you both fed off on one another, pleading for more.
 Words were almost not able to get out from how breathless he made you with every thrust. Bit with a certain one that hit you right where it made all the butterflies go all out, you did muster out,
“Y-Yes! Jus’ for you Mig- ah! Please- don’t stop!”
A heavy sigh left your lips as tears prickled in your eyes, the pleasure all too good to keep a straight face. You could feel it all building up, but it felt all too right and perfect to want to finish it and let it go so fast. And you knew Miguel felt the same when he groaned,
“Just a little longer amor, no quiero parar tampoco.”
Your legs pushed him further into you and you dug your heels into his muscled lower back, reaching up to kiss he parted lips.
 Lips then connecting he took your breath away yet provided leverage with his hard pants escaping into you. His muscles rippled under you and you could feel his every movement as he pressed himself impossibly closer to you, not getting enough of your touch or your skin against his.
A light coat of sweat covered you both at the close proximity, but neither gave a damn as you dove into the heat of this moment, embracing into this warmth and heat that was like no other. It was the kind that made you feel safe, known, belonging, cared for, and most of all.. unapologetically loved.
After every other thrust Miguel seemed to be going faster, his hand leaving your neck to use his fingers to rub against your clit, prompting you to reach your high he called his trophy.
Your moans spurred him on as you could feel that familiar and all different warmth of pleasure grow in your lower tummy. You squeezed Miguel’s hand tightly as you pleaded in between moans,
“Ah! Miguel, please.”
With a harsh but quick kiss to your lips Miguel teased,
“Please what? Qué deseas amor?”
He let out a deep groan when your walls tightened around him, making him let out a sweet low moan that was rare to get but you swallowed his every sound desperately like a drug. He smiled with his lips on yours as he asked,
“You close amor? Hm? I can feel- ahhhh.”
You’ve never heard Miguel this vocal before, and you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t triggering something deep in you. Finding him strong in his vulnerability, as he moaned to your words,
“I’m close baby- please! F-Faster!”
Miguel then let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, settling with one hand splayed on your back, and the other gripping your waist tightly, threatening to leave ‘love tattoos’. With a single kiss to you lips Miguel growled,
“Como deseas, aferrate a mi.”

 Your arms grasped tightly onto his broad shoulders, closing whatever gap was left between you two. Your cheek was pressed on his and you held his head against you possessively. 

Miguel put himself onto his knees, and laid you down while clinging onto him for life, as if you were afraid to let him go and lose everything of him. With a reassuring kiss to your head, the fight for your highs became utterly real.
With quick, deep thrusts he began to absolutely rail you, grinding onto your sweet spot with every hit, spurring you on and raising your cries for him.
“Oh Miguel! Ah! Please please- Miguel!!”
He could definitely feel how close you were to an euphoric moment, velvety walls swallowing his length and milking him for what was to come. It only encouraged him to suck up what was left of his adrenaline to sink further in and gift what he could in pleasure.

 Miguel loved you entirely, he’d kill and die for you. You had given him your heart and knew he wouldn’t screw up again, and if he did, he swore with his heart and life that he’d pay for it. In return he had finally given his to you, once he saw and knew you’d do the absolute same for him, if not more.
His life was harsh and more than occupied, he wore a mean facade 99% of the time so he wouldn’t be stepped on, but with you, he could be 100% himself, and this is who he was. A loving, self-sacrificing man, who was vulnerable and healing by giving his all to you. Showing his love endlessly by making himself yours and you his. 
 Feeling himself coming to close to his release, he let go of your waist and trailed his hand to your clit, using his fingers to press down harsh and tight circles that have you curling your toes.
“Vamos amor, come baby I’m right with you. I’m h-here.”

 His words cut short when you finally let go at his command, gushing on him as you let out a deep cry of his name and ‘I love you’s’. 
 Miguel embraced you close as he let go right after you, panting and kissing your neck as he let his cum paint inside of you, marking you once again as his. With a couple last deep thrusts, he finally came to a stop and took deep breaths in between heartfelt words.

“I.. I love you amor.. so m-much.”

You responded with a light kiss to his lips and a mumble, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over,
“I love you... more baby.”

 Miguel got up on his elbows, muttering comforting words as he slowly started to pull out, but you whined a bit and held his shoulders, a small but visible pout on your lips. He thought you were very sore after such a long and hard session, but you quickly said,
“Stay inside.. I.. I want you close.”

 Miguel smiled at you sweetly, knowing that he too would love to do the same, but you needed a refreshing bath first. So he bargained and promised,
“Why don’t we take a quick bath, then we can do that, yeah amor?”
You thought for a minute before accepting he was right, the sticky feeling in your legs showing so. The thought of having cool yet warm water embrace your growing sore body, had you ready to get up immediately.

“Ok baby, let me get up to start it-“
“No no no... let me carry you, come on.”

Like the strong man he was, he was able to sweep you up into a bridal style, carrying you gently into the bathroom as you muttered,
“Thank you..”
“Anytime amor. Sit here while I get the stuff ready.”

 He gently placed you on the sink and wrapped you with the sheet you dragged along so you wouldn’t get cold, pressing a kiss to your lips twice, he then went on to prepping your bath. 

Having memorized all the salts and bath bombs you preferred most for soreness and relaxation, Miguel efficiently and quietly placed them all into the warm water, splashing it a bit to make more bubbles (as he knew you secretly loved it passionately) 

 In peace you watched how his back muscles moved so enticingly with every thing he did. They were so big and comforting to touch.
He used his strength to take out big scary guys and protect his multiverses... but he also used them to make your bath perfect, and that thought... did warm your heart and make you fall harder for him as always.
His chiseled chest gleaming in light and in his sweat, brought you back to earth as he walked toward you with a warm smile and soft words,
“Ok mi amor, it’s ready, come on.”

 With one arm he picked you up, only confirming how tough you thought he was, and he gently and carefully placed you both in. His chest against your back he held you close, his hands never leaving your body. 

You two sat in quiet for a bit, relishing in the water and in each other, soon then Miguel asked if you were ok and not hurt at all, you responded with,
“I feel complete with you. I’m perfectly safe and happy baby.”

 With peppering kisses you two helped each other clean up, you too also asking him questions to make sure he was ok as well, and he responded assuringly,
“Never been better. Contigo estoy contento amor.”

 Little after you both were ready to hop out, as the water had cooled down. Drying off with fluffy towels, exchanging shy and loving glances at your exposed bodies made you both giggle a bit and have rosy faces, but you’ve never felt more free and safe. 

Massages were given to your sore legs and back, as Miguel rubbed on some lotion for you. You tried to do the same, but ended up being enthralled by how rock hard his abs were that you got distracted a couple of times.
So you instead helped him back by getting some fresh water and popping some fruit in his mouth, he couldn’t resist but return that favor but also steal fruity kisses. Then you two put out clean sheets, it all felt so romantic yet domestic, and beautiful combination that was so perfect. 
 Now completing his promise, the big, strong, mean and hard Miguel held puppy eyes and crawled on top of your laying form and whispered,
“Can we still...?”
“Yes baby, I haven’t changed my mind. C’mere.”

 He smiled like a dork, as he guided himself into you once again, this time he was soft yet firm, but you both sighed contentedly once he was fully inside.
Half of his weight rested on you, his legs to the side as his face came to hide in your neck, his hand finding place on your head and the other intertwined with yours. You cradled his head and kissed it sweetly,
“Goodnight baby, get some sleep.”

 Your words sounded like he was the only one going to be sleeping. Your voice sounded so alive compared to his, and he could only grumble,
“You better not be thinking. Go to sleep.”
“Miggy-“

 His head lifted to be above you as he worded seriously yet with a tease,
“Go mimis. Please amor. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
You lifted a brow and sassed,
“Promising another round sir?”

 Calling ‘sir’ had him smirk and threaten,
“More like rounds. I won’t only make your legs sore but your brain too.”
“Mmmm challenge accepted-“
He sighed a short laugh of disbelief at your still sassiness as he plopped back down into your neck.
“Mimis amor. Now.”
You were going to respond, but a sudden deep yawn came over you, and in seconds you felt extremely exhausted. Eyes closing slowly you worded lastly,
“G’night baby.. love you.”

 Miguel hummed against you, content to hear you passing out as he replied,
“Sweet dreams amor.. love you too.”

 You passed out before he even finished, he felt the deep breaths you took and how your hand went limp on his head. He smiled to himself and got comfortable, before riding his sleeping chariot alongside you.
Spanish Translations;
amor- love
Queirda- dear
Como deseas- as you wish
Es todo, y nada mas- that’s it, and nothing more
Lo hare entonces- I’ll do it then.
Aferrate a mi- Hold onto me
Vamos- come on
Contigo estoy contento- With you I’m happy
Eres perfecta- you’re perfect
Mimis- night-night
3K notes · View notes
too-much-tma-stuff · 19 days
Text
Finally Getting Help (prt 11)
Masterpost
When Jason arrived at the manor to meet Danny it wasn’t him who greeted him but Damian. Jason tensed as he always did when he saw Damian, though now the feeling he got when he saw Damian made more sense to him. He had read the slide show, he knew that the urge to fight Damian wasn’t hatred, and neither was the way Damian lashed out at him… at least probably not. They should spar more, but not right now, he still needed to overcome the urge to fight Damian in the lobby.
“Todd,” Damian greeted.
“Demon-Brat,” Jason said, insults were practically his love language now anyway. 
Damian sniffed disdainfully, but he was shifting from foot to foot. He had something to say and was struggling to figure out how. Jason crossed his arms and dutifully waited for Damian to spit it out. “Danny has warned me about the role that combat has in courtship for his kind, I do not know why on earth he would want you to court him But that is his decision. I will not interfere but understand that he is vulnerable and he is protected. If you hurt him in any way there will be consequences.” 
“I’m not planning to hurt him, but I also don’t even know if we are ‘courting’ yet,” Jason said rolling his eyes. 
“Well then you’re even more of a fool then I thought,” Damian said with a disdainful sniff. “He’s a very powerful being, Zatana says that he will likely grow to be a god, you should be grateful he is willing to let you court him.” 
Jason blinked rapidly, he hadn’t been here for that conversation so that was the first he was hearing of that! It also occurred to him that Damian had a baby-crush on Danny and considered teasing him about it but decided not to. “Huh, good to know,” He said, simply reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair and missing on purpose as he dodged away. “So where is Danny?”
“He’s waiting for you in the dojo upstairs,” Damian said, sounding a little resigned as he gestured upwards. “I hope you made reservations for somewhere worthy.”
“Don’t worry Dami,” Jason snorted, brushing past him to head towards the stairs. “I’ve got it under control.”
Once again as soon as he entered the dojo and saw Danny the violent urges surged but he wasn’t alone and he didn’t swing first. Danny came at him first and Jason rose to meet him. The fight was longer but less desperate this time. It felt like they were getting out their energy and anger without meaning it, and by the end Jason and Danny were both breathing hard and purring again. It really did feel like bonding, they were closer now then they had been at the beginning of the fight, even if they had hardly said a word.
It ended in a stalemate, or, Jason got Danny pinned but it couldn’t have been more obvious that Danny let him. Jason was glad they didn’t have an audience this time so later he could deny that made him blush. Danny gave him a cheeky grin and reached up to pull Jason down, slow enough that Jason was able to scramble away before Danny got hold of him.
He coughed to clear his  throat awkwardly, grabbing one of the towels that sat on a shelf on one side of the dojo, using it to wipe his face and the back of his neck. The fight had been intense enough to make him sweat, though Danny still seemed unbothered, and there were some gym style showers off of the dojo. 
“Well I’m glad I brought a change of clothes!I’m going to have a quick shower and then we can go out for dinner okay?”
“Sounds good, I’ll go change too. Alfred bought me a Ton of new clothes, I really didn’t need that much more. By the way, what sort of place are we going? I mean, should I dress up?” Danny asked a little awkwardly, Running a hand back through his hair to try and push his bangs back.
“I mean, probably a little bit?” Jason said. “If I didn’t take you somewhere nice I think Damian would shank me. It’s cute how protective of you he is,” Jason teased. 
“Alright, so we talking jeans and a button down? Or proper dress pants?” Danny asked, cocking his head to the side. 
“Better to go with dress pants. The good ones are pretty comfortable anyway, and Alfred wouldn’t get you bad one. No need for a jacket though, unless you’ll be cold?” 
“I have an ice core, I never get cold,” Danny laughed. Jason was just going to pretend he understood what that meant.
“Alright,” Danny agreed, bouncing to his feet in a way that denied gravity and bouncing out of the room to go get changed.
Jason grinned like an idiot after him before shaking off the feeling and going to have a quick shower and get dressed for their date.
Jason showered and dressed in a red shirt and soft brown pants before meeting up with Danny who was wearing a blue that brought out his eyes and black pants, he looked… very good. Judging by the blush on Danny’s cheeks he thought the same thing about Jason. 
“Have you ridden on a motorbike before?” Jason asked rather than acknowledging any of that.
“Oh! Ya I have, not that often but I know the basics,” Danny assured, following Jason eagerly towards the door. 
“Great, I have an extra helmet for you.”
“Do I have to?” Danny sighed dramatically. “It wouldn’t kill me anyway if I fell off.”
“Yes you have to,” Jason said firmly, his stomach twisting at the idea of Danny getting hurt. “You have to be more careful Danny! I get that we’re all bad about risk taking, and you’re tough, but you don’t have just yourself to worry about anymore!” Jason said, trying not to sound too much like he was scolding Danny. He wasn’t sure it worked because Danny did look pretty chided as he took the helmet. 
“The babies aren’t in my head, the helmet wouldn’t protect them,” He muttered as he put it on. Jason just hummed and rolled his eyes as he put his own on. 
Danny got on the bike behind him and wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist, snuggling up against his back even as continued to sulk. “Hold on tight, and the helmets have mics so we can still talk without having to yell. It’s a bit of a drive,” Jason warned. He could have gotten there a lot faster, but not without breaking traffic laws and he was in civvies so a half hour drive it had to be.
Danny hummed and tightened his grip on Jason as he kicked back the stand and revved the bike, peeling out of the driveway in a way he knew would piss off Bruce. It also made Danny yelp and cling tighter though so Jason slowed down a bit once they were out of the driveway. 
Danny was quiet for maybe ten minutes and Jason was starting to worry he’d upset Danny more then he realized and maybe should apologize when he spoke up. “You’re right. When Cass clocked that I was pregnant it was the first time I’d talked to anyone about it besides Vlad. I’m not… Honestly the way I’ve survived most of the shit that’s happened to me was not thinking about the implications. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this. I’m in a way better position now then I was even a week ago but it’s going to be such a big change I’m having a hard time imagining what it's even going to look like.”
Jason hummed, nodding and taking a moment to consider his response. His first instinct was to remind Danny that he didn’t Have to have the babies since it was still early but he knew that the other bats would have already brought it up. If Danny was anything other than fiercely protective and utterly determined to have the babies Bruce and Dick would still be trying to convince him to not be a teen parent and focus on his education. The same way they had tried to convince everyone in the family not to be vigilantes and utterly failed. 
“You’re going to be a good dad Danny, and you’re not going to do this alone. Bruce never got to have any of us as babies, the youngest of us was 12 when he adopted us and I know he’s looking forward to having a baby around. Alfred is too, and Damian and Dick will compete for best uncle. Money is no object, you’ll get everything you and the babies need. It’s still going to be a big change obviously but there’s nothing to be scared of I promise,” Could he make that promise really? Well he just did so he’d better do his best to make sure it was kept. 
“It’s not just that though,” Danny said and hesitated again. Jason stayed quiet to let him organize his thoughts. “My binder is hurting more to wear, my.. Chest aches, I told Bruce I was just incubating ghost cores. And that’s what I’ve been telling Myself too, but I got sick this morning and the babies are clones of me, and I’m half human. What if I actually am pregnant?
“I told Jazz I’d bring up going to a human doctor but then dodged it. I haven’t been in years and I am nervous about going again but it’s more than that. I don’t like my body, I’m too young for hormones or surgery but if my body changes. What if my chest hurts too much and I can’t wear my binder anymore? What if they grow more? They’ve always been small enough to hide before.
“I don’t mind the idea of my stomach growing, or even really being a mom. I’m a man but I do feel like I identify more with maternity than paternity. It’s really just my.. Breasts. God I hate that word. I don’t want them to grow, I don’t want to lactate or breastfeed. I mean, I DO, I actually really do but just the idea is giving my dysphoria at the same time that I really want to do it to bond with the babies.” It was like a dam had broken and Danny’s words came fast and a little loud, breathing hard between bouts of talking. 
“Deep breaths please Danny, take a few deep breaths,” Jason soothed, taking one hand off the handlebars briefly to pat Danny’s hands where they were clasped over his stomach. He was a bit at a loss about this, none of his siblings were trans, he knew trans people but he’d never had to talk anyone through these particular problems. “These are a lot of what ifs to be panicking about. It’s totally your choice, the babies can be bottle fed if the time comes and you’re not up to it. There’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll all be here for you no matter what happens, but you really should go to the doctor Danny. At least then we’ll know what to expect right?”
“Will you come with me to the doctor? I’m a bit scared of human doctors, I’ve heard people talking about experimenting on me so much as Phantom that every time I’m in a lab-like environment now I can’t stop thinking about it,” Danny asked, a pleading edge to his voice.
“Ya, I’ll come with you, and whoever else you want,” Jason promised, because what else could he say? “We’ll make an appointment for you with Dr. Leslie, she sees all of us vigilantes, she sees just about everyone involved in the night life and never Ever talks to the cops or the feds. Trust me no one can get that woman to talk to anyone, she’s safe.”
“Thank you,” Danny murmured, leaning his cheek against Jason’s shoulder. The rest of the ride was a quiet one as Danny recovered and Jason tried not to overthink his lackluster responses. 
-----
Jason parked a block away from the restaurant rather than trusting any concierge with his bike and waited for Danny to get off before he did. He took off his helmet and took Danny’s from him and locked them both in the storage compartment on his bike before leading the way, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. He was never the most… socially competent. He was better than Tim but he was worse than Dick and Bruce and in moments like this he wished these things came a little easier to him.
Danny was quiet, his hands swinging loosely by his side as he followed, Jason noted the way he kept looking around them. They all did that, looking for threats civilians might not see, it was how you spotted a hero even when they weren’t trying to be spotted. Still there were no problems between the bike and the restaurant and when they got inside Jason softly asked the host to make sure Danny got one of the menus without prices. He was knew to this lifestyle, Jason remembered the first time he’d gone out to a fancy dinner with Wayne the prices had nearly given him a heart attack and he was younger and less set in his ways then Danny.
He didn’t want Danny to worry about the prices, he’d be paying and he was both the son of a millionaire and a crime lord, he could buy the entire fucking place without blinking. The host nodded understanding and ushered both of them to the most private table in the establishment. 
They settled in and ordered drinks, Jason a coke and Danny a signature lemonade before they were left with the menus. Danny gave Jason a suspicious look when he noticed there weren’t any prices but when Jason innocently pretended not to notice Danny huffed and decided not to bring it up. 
“Order whatever you want, appetizer and dessert too,” Jason encouraged, putting on his innocent face again when Danny gave him a Look. 
“Alright,” Danny agreed with a dramatic sigh, he didn’t need to be pushed too hard though, Alfred had mentioned Danny was almost always hungry, wish was why Jason hadn’t chosen one of the fancy places with ridiculously small portions.
Danny took a while to choose, and asked Jason about a few items and words on the menu. Finally he sighed and put his menu down to indicate he was done. It wasn’t long before the waitress returned to take their order for appetizers and main before vanishing again.
“So,” Danny asked leaning against the table and clasping his hands. “You have questions?”
Next
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libraryofgage · 7 months
Text
Pirate/Mermaid Steddie One
There is way more mermaid culture world-building than I intended, but that's the fun part lmao
This part discusses injuries, has a mention of mutilation in passing, and involves stitching up a large wound. Nothing is graphic, but there are some descriptions of pain
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!
As always, if you see any typos no you didn't
----
There were a few things Eddie expected from this raid. Gold, of course. Supplies like food, obviously. Some new weapons, surely.
A fucking mermaid? Nowhere near that list of expected things.
And yet, here he stands in the doorway of the raided ship captain's cabin, caught in a staring contest with a merman that's definitely seen better days.
He's stuck in a tiny wooden tub, his tail forced against his chest as the rest of it flops over the edge and trails the floor. His blue-and-green with inexplicable hints of orange scales are dull, too dull, and Eddie is trying really hard to control the sheer rage he feels at the jagged cut that drags down the middle of the tail and through the fin at the bottom. The edges of the wound have crusted over, but it still looks painful, and Eddie knows it was meant to keep the merman from using his tail to escape.
Eddie takes a step into the cabin, ready to just scoop the merman up and take him back to his ship. But he stops when the merman tenses, his entire body somehow becoming more rigid. His hands on the edge of the tub tighten, his sharp nails digging into the slowly rotting wood. He's staring at Eddie like he's some new threat, which seriously is not gonna help with the whole "take the gorgeous merman with incredible hair and alluring brown eyes back to his ship and nurse him back to health" thing.
Eddie freezes and holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. The merman doesn't relax much, but his nails are no longer digging into the wood. Eddie figures that's a tiny win.
"I'm Captain Eddie of the Corroded Coffin. We didn't expect to find you here, sweetheart."
The nickname just slips out, an unthinking attempt to butter the merman up and an admission of his own thoughts. The merman's eyes narrow, slowly looking Eddie over as though sizing him up.
Eddie lets him, perfectly content with standing still if it means the merman will give him even one iota more of his trust. "That doesn't look very comfortable," he says, nodding to the tub. "Would you like some help?"
The merman relaxes a little more, and Eddie has no clue what he did to cause that. Before he can think too much about it, the merman points to a dresser on the other side of the room, looking at Eddie expectantly.
"You want something from there?"
The merman nods, which tells Eddie he at least understands human language. That doesn't give him any idea if the merman can speak it, though.
He walks over to the dresser and looks at the merman, pointing to each drawer in turn until the merman nods. The fourth drawer is, apparently, the correct one. When Eddie opens it, he finds a small treasure trove. It must be a collection of trophies from the ship captain's previous raids.
A quick glance reveals a gold crown with rubies, several diamond rings, a few silver bracelets with various gemstones along the bands, and a pearl and seashell necklace thrown on top. Eddie knows the merman probably wants that necklace most, but he can't help thinking of a rumor that mermaids like shiny things.
The drawer is full of shiny things.
He hesitates for less than a second before pulling out the entire drawer itself and turning around. "I'm not sure what you want from here," he lies, smiling apologetically at the merman. "Can I come close enough to show you?"
The merman stares at him before slowly nodding once, suspicion practically radiating off of him. Eddie flashes a more genuine smile and slowly approaches, giving the merman enough time to reject his presence. When he's a few steps away, Eddie crouches and tilts the drawer so the merman can see what's inside.
Immediately, the merman reaches out and snatches the pearl and seashell necklace. The gills on the side of his neck flutter slightly as he puts it on, and Eddie wonders if that's a sign of relief. "Was that everything you wanted?" he asks.
The merman glances at him, one hand still lingering on the necklace. He glances down at the drawer again, seeming to argue with himself before reaching out and removing the crown and every bracelet. He carefully slips the bracelets on and clutches the crown in his hands.
"Anything else?" Eddie asks, his tone indulgent. It must be reassuring, though, because the merman looks at him with curiosity more than anything else. It's like he's trying to figure out what he can get away with.
A few seconds pass before the merman glances down at the drawer. His gaze lingers at the edges, and Eddie starts to wonder what could possibly be there when the merman points at one of his rings.
Eddie blinks, following the merman's finger to a chunky ring. It's shaped like a bat with emeralds for eyes and diamonds for teeth. It's one of Eddie's favorites; he found it on his first raid, took it right off the captain's hand himself. Nobody has ever dared ask to touch it, let alone have it.
Without a second thought, Eddie puts the drawer down, slips the ring off his finger, and offers it to the merman. It sits in the palm of his hand, meaning they'd have to touch if the merman really wants it that badly.
Slowly, the merman reaches for the ring, his nails tickling against Eddie's palm as he takes it. From the light brush against Eddie's fingers, the merman's skin is cool, exactly like jumping into the ocean on a hot day.
----
Steve is a firm believer in the power of small comforts, especially as it relates to the growth of his guppies. Dustin has long outgrown his baby tail belt, but he still wraps it around his wrist every morning. El and Will no longer need the seaweed and coral dolls Steve made for them when they were barely able to swim a straight line, but they still tuck them in every night.
So, when the human (Eddie, Steve reminds himself) offers up a drawer filled with shiny jewelry, Steve doesn't hold himself back. The bracelets make him feel grounded, the crown gives him something to clutch without the risk of breaking it, and the ring...
Well, the ring was more to see if Eddie's actions would match his tone. And because Steve thought it was fascinatingly grotesque. What kind of creature would have wings without feathers? Sure, the gulls he sometimes sees near the surface are confusing, but the ring depicts something even further beyond his imagination. What's up with the sharp teeth? Why must the eyes be green? Does it know it's a freak of nature?
Anyway, the jewelry helps. Steve uses it to distract himself from the sheer agony screaming from his tail when Eddie lifts him out of the cramped tub. He thinks about which bracelet he'll give to which guppy (Robin will get the crown) when the edges of his tailfin graze against Eddie's legs as he confidently walks across a plank connecting the two ships. He closely studies the featherless wings on the ring to avoid thinking about what's to come when Eddie sets him down on a large, surprisingly comfortable bed in another private cabin and starts gathering a needle and thread.
There's not much left to distract him when Eddie kneels next to the bed and looks up at him, his eyes reminding Steve of his guppies when they've done something bad and need him to clean up the mess.
"This is gonna hurt," Eddie tells him, his voice soft and gentle and full of regret as he grabs a bottle from the table next to the bed.
The liquid inside is clear, and Steve would think it was water if his nose hadn't been hit with such an astringent scent when Eddie opened it. Before he can fully process the smell, Eddie tips the bottle and pours the liquid onto Steve's tail.
An involuntary screech rips out of his throat, a burning sensation clawing along the cut and making his scales buzz. Without thinking, Steve grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks it away, his lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals sharp teeth. Despite the physical pain, Steve thinks the worst part is that he let himself get distracted by small comforts and warm brown eyes and Eddie's soft voice.
He should know better.
"Shit," Eddie mutters, quickly dropping the now-empty bottle to the floor. It cracks but doesn't break, and he looks up at Steve. "I should've explained that better. Holy fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I had to clean it. If I sewed it up without doing so, it might get infected."
Steve narrows his eyes, his grip tightening briefly as he studies Eddie's face. He seems genuinely apologetic, and Steve understands his intentions once he's processed Eddie's words. Steve had to do something similar when Mike and Lucas bothered a shark too much. Their wounds weren't nearly as bad as Steve's, but they'd still cried and shouted when Steve and Robin had to pull teeth and bits of coral out of their wounds before wrapping them in seaweed.
"I'm done with that part, though," Eddie says, his voice practically desperate for Steve to understand. "You can squeeze my shoulder or something while I sew it up."
A few seconds pass before Steve nods once, slowly letting go of Eddie's wrist. As Eddie starts threading the needle, Steve places his hand on his shoulder, bracing himself for the upcoming pain by squeezing the crown in his other hand.
Eddie takes a deep breath as he glances up at Steve. He licks his lips, looking back at the top of the cut. "Okay, I'm starting now," he says, waiting long enough to see Steve nod before starting the first stitch.
The alcohol hurt. The stitching is a fucking bitch. But, honestly, none of it is as bad as when that first disgusting human dragged a dagger through Steve's tail. He still hisses, gripping Eddie's shoulder tighter and unable to stop his nails from digging into his skin. Despite how it must hurt, Eddie doesn't flinch, and Steve feels a little better.
"You know," Eddie says, mostly focused on keeping his hand steady and his stitches even, "I wish I knew your name. I can't keep calling you sweetheart."
He could. Steve wouldn't mind it. But he also knows it isn't entirely fair that Eddie doesn't know he can speak. They'll need to be able to talk, Steve thinks, if they're going to be around each other for a while longer.
And Eddie has been kind enough that Steve wouldn't mind being around him for however long it takes his tail to heal.
"Steve," he says.
To his credit, Eddie doesn't drop the needle. He does tense for a moment, his hand pausing as he looks up. "What?" he asks.
"My name. It's Steve."
"You can talk."
"Why wouldn't I?"
Eddie hums, looking back at the cut as he starts stitching again. "You didn't say anything before," Eddie says.
"The last human who saw me mutilated my tail," Steve replies.
"Fair. Is, uh, is your name really Steve?"
"That's the closest translation to your language."
"What's your name in your language?"
Steve hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat. He feels his gills flutter, trying to create the bubble pattern that accompanies his name as he lets out a rhythmic series of squeaks and clicks with a short hiss at the end.
A few seconds pass after he's done. And then Eddie nods once and says, "Steve it is. How'd you get caught, Stevie?"
Ignoring the slight urge to point out that Eddie said his name wrong, Steve frowns slightly. "One of my guppies got caught in that ship's net. I got them out but was caught myself."
"One of your...guppies?"
"Yes. You would call them...children, I think?"
Eddie has nearly reached the middle of Steve's tail by now, and his hand falters once more. "Children? Aren't you...a little young?"
Steve bristles, glaring at Eddie. He's heard that same question plenty of times from members of other pods before, and he's tired of it. "What does it matter if they are happy and healthy?" he asks.
"Sorry," Eddie whispers, glancing up at Steve. There's something he can't quite read in Eddie's eyes. "Do you raise them alone?"
"What? No, of course not. My partner, Robin, raises them with me. We have seven guppies, with an eighth on the way."
"An eighth?!" Eddie asks, sounding strained as he pauses his stitching once more to look up at Steve. "Shit, man, shouldn't you give Robin a break?"
Steve blinks, tilting his head slightly. "Why would she need a break?" he asks.
"She's already popped out seven!"
Suddenly, Steve realizes what the disconnect is. He blinks once more and dissolves into laughter. "Oh!" he says, the exclamation broken by a giggle as he tries to calm himself down. "No, no, she is my partner, not my mate. Besides, she doesn't even like mermen."
Eddie seems to relax at Steve's explanation, his shoulders dropping and his voice significantly lighter as he starts stitching again and says, "Oh, I see. Then whose kids are they?"
"Technically, they belong to the pod," Steve explains, gritting his teeth as Eddie reaches the tailfin. He feels warm all over, his nerves jumping and his scales feeling half-ready to just fall off. "Each pod has at least two caretakers. Mates have a guppy and let caretakers raise them while they focus on their own roles within the pod."
"Do you like being a caretaker?"
"Yeah," Steve says, managing a shaky smile despite the tugging on his tailfin and Eddie's fingers pressing against his scales. "They're my guppies. I'd drain the oceans for them."
"And, uh, what about your mate? Do they mind you being so...devoted to the guppies?"
It's not at all subtle, but Steve finds it oddly endearing nonetheless. He slowly exhales, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't have one."
Just like before, Eddie seems to relax some at the answer. He also finishes stitching, tying off the thread with a secure knot before carefully cutting away the excess. "Well, uh, we'll get you healed up and back to your guppies as soon as possible," he says, looking up at Steve.
"It needs to be wrapped in kelp. And, uh, I'll need a tub. You know, with seawater."
Eddie nods along, flashing a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Stevie, I'll get you anything you want," he promises.
"Anything?" Steve asks, leaning forward some as he tilts his head.
"I already gave you my favorite ring, sweetheart."
Steve glances down at said ring, wondering what about it could possibly make it Eddie's favorite. He can't immediately figure it out, but that doesn't change the sweet warmth and anticipation for the time he'll spend with Eddie that he suddenly feels.
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papercorgiworld · 2 months
Text
Pansy’s potion
Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, Enzo and Theo
When Pansy gives you something to relax at a party all innocence leaves you and you get a little naughty. The slytherin boys try to keep you from doing anything stupid, but you’re making it quite hard.
Warning: very suggestive! And if your shady friends offers you a shady drink say no
A/N: Look dear followers I feel the need to apologise, because I’m less active. I still write and post, but I read less and I’m just less active. So if I miss out on your stories, moodboards, tags, comments or reblogs I’m sorry. Just know that my heart is with you 💛
While I was working on requests I also wrote this little side project of my own. The next request is gonna be very angsty so before the trauma I’m sending you some fun. Since I wrote this in between other works, you'll notice that it's a bit rushed, apologies. Also, It's kinda short, but still Happy readings!
Read part two here: Pansy's Prediction
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“You are always so stressed. Here, have this. It will help take the edge off, so you can have some fun tonight.” You take the small glass Pansy offers you and study it for a moment. “What is it?” Pansy smirks. “Nothing too bad.” 
Understatement. It was bad. 
The next moment you’re dancing with Draco. You wrap your arms around his neck as you seduce him with your eyes, all while your body moves perfectly in Draco’s hands. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” He whispers against your ear and you brush your lips over his cheek as your mouth moves to his ear to answer. “I just wanna have a little fun. You don’t mind, do you?” Draco swallows hard and he feels his whole body heat up, next you turn around, pressing your back against Draco’s chest and slowly grinding against him. 
Draco was seriously confused, you were always the first to blush and now you were confident and flirty making him blush. Blaise frowns as he approaches you and Draco. “What’s going on here?” He asks, smiling awkwardly. Your teasing eyes land on his, before moving away from Draco. You sling your arms around Blaise’s neck and Draco clenches his jaw at the sight. Blaise only laughs and looks at you. “How much did you drink?” You move closer to him pressing your chest against his. “Not enough. I’m still thirsty.” You whisper and Blaise’s eyes go wide at the way that last word comes out. He stops moving and his hands move to your hips, holding you still. “Are you okay?” You bite your lip, while your eyes focus on his lips. You go stand on your tiptoes and Blaise quickly pushes your head in the crook of his neck to keep you from kissing him. You're disappointed with the hug, since you really wanted that kiss. “Okay, let’s not do anything silly.” Blaise shushes and strokes your hair gently. It demands every piece of self control to not just let you devour his lips as he could see you wanted to, but he knew better than to take advantage of you.
Blaise lets go of you for one moment to ask Draco for an explanation, but the next moment you’re gone and both guys panic. They quickly spread the word to Theodore, Lorenzo and Mattheo and the lot of them decide to search for you before you do anything stupid. 
“You’re not just the chosen one, you’re also my chosen one.” You say licking your lips as Harry gawks at you, but before you get the chance to move closer Mattheo’s strong arms snake around you. “Don’t even think about it Potter.” Mattheo growls at Harry. You turn around in Mattheo’s arms, so you’re now facing him. “Matty!” You sing, before moving your lips to his ear. “Glad you decided to join the party, I was getting kinda bored.” Mattheo smiled nervously, now discovering first hand what Draco and Blaise were talking about. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you out of here.” You lean into Mattheo. “Taking me to your room? I knew you were the man I could count on.” Mattheo stares at you with wide eyes and feels his member twitch in his pants as your hand moves over his chest and down until he grabs your wrist. A nervous chuckle leaving his lips as he watches your eyes filled with mischief. He needed to get you out of here and keep you from doing anything stupid, but he also needed to keep himself in check. How can someone so innocent suddenly be such a tease?
“Thank Merlin. You found her.” Enzo said as he joined you and Mattheo in the hallway. “Yeah, but she’s-” You don’t let Mattheo finish his warning and tug on Enzo’s shirt, pulling him into you, so you’re now sandwiched between Enzo and Mattheo. Enzo parts his lips to say something, but you don’t let him and seize the opportunity to kiss him. Mattheo immediately pulls you away from a shocked Lorenzo. “Did she just kiss me?” Mattheo groans. “Be careful around her, Berkshire. She’s wild, she almost unzipped my pants in the middle of the crowd.” You roll your eyes. “Well, maybe Enzo isn’t such a prude like you, Matty.” You pout at Mattheo who still firmly holds on to your wrists. “Let’s get her to the common room.” Enzo says with an urgent voice and Mattheo nods.
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Enzo holds both your hands as he moves you to the couch, while Mattheo writes a note that flies off to find Theodore. “Theodore will know what to do. The right potion will get her back to normal.” Mattheo breathes and looks around to find Enzo struggling as you try to make him fall onto the couch with you. “No, (y/n).” Mattheo says with a stern voice and you stop to look at him innocently, but there’s obvious teasing in your eyes. “Yes, daddy.” Your seductive voice has both guys sigh. “She’s drugged right?” Enzo looks over to Mattheo who takes a seat next to you. “What do you think, Berkshire?” Mattheo snaps. 
You move your hand over Mattheo’s thigh. “No need to be so be so stressed, Matty.” You whisper with hungry eyes. Enzo tries to intervene by tugging your other hand, but you look at him with those same intense eyes. “I have to hands so no need to get jealous, Enz.” You grab Enzo’s shirt and bring him closer to your lips. Just then Theo enters and he instantly frowns as he sees you. “Well, they say three’s a party, but four...” You spread your legs as a clear suggestion to Theodore. Enzo gulps at your action, while Mattheo throws his head back. Theodore raises his eyebrows as he realizes how bad this is. “Okay let’s just tie her hands up for every one’s safety.” Theodore suggests and you smile. “Kinky.” Mattheo’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your teasing voice.
After some reading Theodore finds an easy antidote and cooks it up in a few minutes. When Theodore offers you a glass filled with the gooey potion you shake your head. “I’ll only do body shots.” You say moving your tongue over your lips. The three guys seriously feel their self control is being tested. “No, just drink it love.” Mattheo urges and you bite your lip staring at his brown eyes. “If you drink this you can do whatever you want… to us.” Enzo tries to convince you and you sensually lean over to Enzo. “So I can-s” Mattheo interrupts you before you say something unholy again. “Yes, just please drink it, please.” The guys are pleased when you nod, since they were worried they would get even hornier than you if this continued for long. You drink it and immediately fall asleep.
“Okay, she’s asleep, so you guys watch, I need a moment.” Enzo says already moving in the direction of their dorm. “Yeah, Theo, you watch her. I need a moment as well.” Mattheo adds and Theodore rolls his eyes. “Guys, I’m at my limits as well.” Just then Draco, Blaise and Pansy enter the common room. “You guys watch (y/n). I’ve got business.” Theodore says and the three arrivals look confused for a moment. 
“Maybe, I overdosed a bit.” Pansy admits watching your sleeping figure, making everyone look at her. “You did this?” Draco snares and Pansy shrugs. “I just gave her something to take the edge off.” Mattheo’s eyes fill with anger. “Take the edge off? Take the edge off?! She was ready to take everyone’s clothes off, including her own!” Pansy rolls her eyes. “How was I supposed to know that beneath all that innocence was a desperately horny girl. Maybe one of you should volunteer to help the poor girl out? Help her relax, give her what she needs but doesn’t dare ask for?” At Pansy’s suggestion the slytherin common room went quiet as the guys felt their hormones peak. Give you what you need, but don’t dare ask for… 
***
“I am never leaving my room.” You say with a pillow over your head and Pansy rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “It wasn’t that bad.” Hermione judges Pansy. “She almost jumped Malfoy, Zabini, Riddle, Berkshire and Nott. In that exact order!” Pansy frowns. “Don’t slut shame, Granger. If a girl wants dick, there’s no shame in that.” Hermione narrows her eyes at Pansy. “One dick fine, but-“ Hermione is interrupted when you throw a pillow at her. “I’ve made up my mind I’m transfer to another school.” Pansy huffs. “And why would you do that? I mean you have several handsome fellas lining up for you… especially now that they know what’s behind all that prudish and innocent facade of yours.” You groan. 
This is a nightmare! But… are they really lining up for me?
Word count: 1484
Did you spot a weird phrase? A typo? Let me know! Feedback is always welcome.
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wandagcre · 8 months
Text
fall apart | sam carpenter 🔞
(Normal college gfs! Sam Carpenter x Fem reader)
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Living with Sam is thrilling. You wore her favorite boxers and accidentally ended up teasing her. Of course, she gets her way with you.
WARNING: dom!sam, sub!reader, thigh riding, praise, degradation, daddy kink (sam), subdrop (reader), mild corruption kink, possessive sam, aftercare +18 / men & minors dni.
Words: 2.7k | [ AO3 ]
This morning had been different, there was something in the fresh air – it's promising as you woke up on Sam’s strong arms, you were snug, and she’s already pressing kisses on your face – progressing from gentle to sloppy ones just to tease you until your eyes were fully opened. Sam loved mornings like this. More so that you have a couple minutes to spare before both of you prepare for classes. She felt giddy enough to insist on being in charge of making breakfast today. 
You sit up on your bed as soon as Sam dips out of it. Unbeknownst to you, Sam can't help but sigh and stare at you lovingly. From her view, you’ve got bed hair, a little cranky expression, and wearing her old sweater - every detail is so endearing to Sam’s sight.
"What’s up with you? Am I missing an important date?" You question, voice raspy and head tilted in confusion.
Sam has a winning smile and she laughs at you. She sees your face obviously racking your head over the milestones you have with her in a span of less than a year.
"Can’t a girl be this cheesy without a reason?" Sam retorts with a hand on her hip.
"I suppose you can be," she has proven to be unpredictable for a lot of moments already. You frown at her. "You didn't eat my leftovers in the fridge, didn't you?"
"Excuse me, I do have some self-control!”
"That’s very debatable. I’m begging you to not burn the kitchen, baby."
"You had me at begging." Sam had a glint in her eye and she stuck her tongue out playfully. She chuckled when you returned it just as childish. “Are we having breakfast in bed or at the counter?" She asks.
Sam was confused by the delay in your answer, she turned around only to see you with a spreading crimson on your cheeks. She clicked her tongue at you once she understood.
Of course, you only heard “breakfast” and “counter” and then saw Sam. 
It isn’t hard to recall your activities in those areas, especially if it was only made last night.
"Perv. I'm trying to be sweet and here you are... thinking of dirty this early? Come on. Have some decorum.”
Why did you have to say that? Now you’re temporarily revoked of goodies. “Ugh. Shut up, you’re one to talk.”
The crankiness starts to appear on the surface with you rolling your eyes. Sam ended up giggling a little because God, she adores you so much and everything you do.
“Maybe you’re the one with no self-control. Don’t give me that attitude, baby.” Sam gives you a pointed look and you yield immediately, nodding your head.
“I know. Sorry. Can I… get a proper kiss?” you sheepishly say.
Sam approaches you. She tucks her loose hair behind her ear and slithers her arms around your waist. She simply held you close, not kissing you just yet.
“Mm, dunno baby, aren’t you missing something?” she moves her face closer to yours.
“Please?” 
Sam finally leans in and brushes her soft lips against yours. It was slow and gentle, different from how intense she can be sometimes. Nevertheless, you loved her just the same.
You ended up eating her special pancakes and even if you giggled at the slightly burnt edges, Sam still showered you with kisses. Both of you proceed to have a PG-13 shower and you thoroughly enjoy it. Sam continued to take care of you and you loved the sight of her bending her knees so you can reach her hair better to wash it. So far, your morning is normal. 
Until you were changing with Sam who was going through her wardrobe. You look at her amused when you see her going through every single of clothes, and her movements between confused and frantic – like she was looking for a specific thing.
“Baby! Have you seen my– oh.”
She saw you in front of the mirror, nothing with your ordinary bra and the boxers that Sam cherishes oh so much. It’s her favourite. There’s nothing special about the details, simply in the color of blue, but it's one of her most comfortable undergarments that she owned for ages. She remembers having told you in passing that she'd like to see you in these inner clothes some time, just because.
So, yes, she's more than ecstatic to be graced with this view, paired with her girlfriend's body still drying up from your shower together earlier.
“Hm?” you hum non-committedly, putting on your shirt.
You appeared so casual while Sam was losing her mind and as though you weren’t responsible for igniting the fire in her loins. She ended up coughing to cover her flustered state.
Sam shook her head, “Nothing. You look good, boxer thief.”
“Thanks!” You grin innocently at her words. You twirl around, looking and feeling the material. “It is really comfy, just like you said.”
“That’s why it’s my favorite.” Sam says, her voice going an octave lower. You still did not notice, even with her blatant staring and you only naturally nod in agreement. 
She shook her head, bearing her thoughts and decided to wear a sweatshirt, pulling it above her head and then some shorts. It was fairly breezy and Sam was easily sensitive to the cold.
It’s safe to say that you were testing her self-control now. 
More so when Sam laid to the couch, opening her notes. She was about to recompose herself, calming her breathing pattern, and begin to study in peace. Maybe she’ll watch a show with you. However, she can’t help but continue ogling at your figure. She let her eyes follow each of your moves, watching you flit with ease at the kitchen, doing the dishes from earlier. Sam had long forgotten the notes in her lap as you presented her an insanely inviting appearance of your ass.
You just had to drop low, emphasizing the curves of your ass, and she saw the way your shirt rode up as you reached the cupboard. From the distance, you hear Sam exhale sharply and this makes you turn around as you dry your wet hands.
“You okay babe?” you look at your girlfriend with concern and Sam merely hummed in response.
She ran her fingers through her dark tresses before speaking. “Babe, what’re your plans for today?” 
A part of you worried that Sam probably wanted a distraction because she knows your schedule by heart. But it could’ve been nothing too, simply wanting you to reiterate your agenda and then squeeze some time with you.
“Um, I want to watch something with you before I read later. Continue that horror movie we’ve been binge-watching, maybe?” 
Sam bounces her legs rapidly, seemingly…impatient? A deep sigh comes out of her mouth.
“Come here – sit on my lap.” She tapped on her thigh, voice stern, leaving no further questions to be asked.
Shiver ran on your spine yet you do as told, straddling one of Sam’s thighs. You hold onto the top of the couch. It felt odd – the uneven pressure felt heavy on your part and it easily pressed against your cunt. It doesn’t help that Sam’s a gym rat – meaning her muscles were defined and stern and you feel most of it even with the fabric of her boxers. 
“Wanna know my plans for today?” You see your girlfriend give you a wolfish grin as she feels you pulse. 
“Yes,” you shortly answer. 
You expressed in passing on earlier times of your relationship that you worry you might be too heavy for Sam, when she first made you sit on her lap. It was in a wholesome context then, yet even now as turned on as you were, you still cannot help but think about how you might inconvenience her.
Sam senses your troubles. She trailed her hands to hike up underneath your shirt and holding you from your lower back, then to your hips – squeezing them. Your breath hitched at her ministrations.
“I plan on doing just you, princess.” She husked out, looking at you deliberately. “This is how I want things to go: I’m gonna need you to ride my thighs and cum while wearing my boxers. You look so good in it baby. I’m losing my mind here and you’re completely unaware of it.”
“O-okay,” you respond, dumbly agreeing with ease.
“But first, I’m going to strip you out of that shirt.”
Your girlfriend tugged at the hem of the material and was painfully slow with her pace. As the shirt revealed more of your skin, her eyes suit followed, you feel as if being eaten at the intensity of her gaze alone. You sharply inhale when you feel Sam’s touch moving to your ribs then up to your breasts, palming and squeezing them. 
She smiled at your reactions – loved how easy it was to pull it out of you. 
You feel Sam much closer as she wraps her arm around you, reaching for the clasp of your bra to remove it next, and her mouth pressing wet kisses all over your shoulder.
“Beautiful.” she whispered before sucking on the skin of your neck. You moan, already feeling the angry red and purple patches she’ll leave there. “I love how your tits bounce. Not gonna spare the chance of not seeing them as you ride me while wearing my favorite boxers, baby.”
You were so lost in anticipation that you grew quiet, and so ready for her to take. Sam was more than happy to see this. She slaps your thigh out of nowhere, startling you. 
“Do it.”
Nodding, you prepare and have your hands depend on the couch to support the rest of your weight. You were less conscious but blood still rushed on your cheeks, feeling embarrassed by your position. It was your first time doing something inappropriate like this and to see Sam looking at you intensely while not exerting any other effort, made you feel so heated.
You wet your lips and sucked your breath. You finally move your hips, rolling them, albeit tentatively – testing out the waters. 
You hear Sam grunting along with your attempt at grinding on her thigh.
“Ah, sorry Sammy, I- I’ve never done… this…” you breathe out, almost finding the rhythm. You feel the cotton material of the shorts being sucked in by your cunt, folding, and the friction felt so new to you.
With your words, Sam growled possessively, her hold by your lower back and hips tightened. 
“I sure hope not. This,” Sam husks, hands more harsh this time as she firmly placed both on your hips, guiding your rolling. “is for me only. Mine alone.”
You sighed in content, nodding stupidly at Sam’s words. The breeze on your dorm did not help as it added to the pebbling of your nipples besides being so turned on.
“Yes, yes!” 
Desperately, you roll your hips more, eyes screwed shut. The fabric was melting deliciously to your liking and the wetness gushed out of you. 
Sam had her full attention to you, cherishing the view unravelling in front of her. Even with eyes closed, you can feel how she’s burning a hole with her siren eyes, staring at you. The thought made you wet as you humped her, now soaking beyond the cotton material and Sam felt it seep on the exposed part of her thighs.
“Are you sure that you didn’t plan this? To whore yourself out to me?” Sam pries, grabbing a handful of your ass and lifting it in a different angle for you to grind better. 
“No- I didn’t, just want- to be comfy,” you stutter on your words and Sam only darkly chuckled at this.
She clenched the firm muscles on her thigh. “Of course, my little innocent angel could never think that way. Look at you, right now.”
You mewl at Sam’s words, your grip only worsened as much as Sam did on your skin, feeling her fingernails deepening too. You feel your folds secreting more slick and you’re absorbed with the odd friction as you hump faster, it’s like a drug you can’t get enough of, as the rubbing is hitting your sweet spots.
Sam bit your shoulder. The sting of her teeth was raw and fresh, making you let out a throaty moan.
She plays with your pebbled nipple, tugging them with force. You groan at the simultaneous feeling while riding her and Sam had to capture your mouth agape, kissing you to oblivion.
You were glistening, moaning, so fucking desperate and it's so beautiful.
"You’re so pretty this way. Head full of nothing, just relying on me alone.”
Your hips become somewhat aimless, completely reckless with your grinding. You just wanted to cum right now.
"Babe. 'm not gonna last- if you- you keep on..."
“Keep on what? You’re the one humping so desperately at my thighs like a bitch in heat. Are you enjoying this?”
When you gave no answer and continued riding Sam’s clenched thighs, arched back, she squeezed your cheeks together.
“Answer me.” she demands with a deep voice. 
“Yes I- I love this,” you struggle to answer.
“Yes what?”
The coil on your lower stomach increased tenfold. You knew what Sam was referring to. Your clit throbbed harder. You bit your lower lip, riding her on a faster pace this time.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Sam grinned at your answer. 
“Good girl. I thought you fucked yourself too dumb already.”
It made your pussy pulse stronger and contracted rapidly and crazy against the fabric and Sam’s thighs. She sees how ruined her boxers were now, thoroughly dark and wet, marked with the damp that was caused by your arousal. The slick had spread to your inner thighs and all over Sam.  
The fact that you looked like this, made Sam so proud of herself. She has rightfully claimed you, in ways that only she could do so. She successfully had her do it in her way, too. The touch of possessiveness in the action that made Sam feel giddy on the inside. 
“God- oh my god, Daddy, I think I- I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moaned, gasping for air, having no shame now in how loud you could’ve been.
Your thrusts were rapid and stronger, tits wildly bouncing as you rode Sam.
She moans, white hot breath tickling against your bare skin. You felt her rubbing your lower back to comfort you.
“Let go baby. I got you – cum for Daddy.”
You felt the stimulation becoming unbearable yet so good for you. The friction did its thing as you continued to ride Sam’s continuous clenching, as your cunt did and dripped. You feel your orgasm washing over you in relief, coming out of your soaked cunt. It was like a puddle of your mess, but you can’t bring yourself to worry about it right now. You tremble at the new sensation right after you fell apart on Sam, a few tears escaping your eyes.
Sam had you in her grasp, holding you dearly.
“I got you. It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Her arm slithered to keep holding you firm to her grasp, while the other hand was tracing patterns and rubbing you in comfort. Sam’s chin was tucked on the crook of your neck. It was enough to ease you.
Finally, you move slowly to look at your girlfriend and meet her mesmerising eyes – partly heavy lidded – but what strikes you is the way her eyes crinkled by the corners. You can't help but return it warmly. 
“You did so good for me, princess.” Sam whispered as she stared at you. Her hands cupped your face and had her thumb running to the apple of your cheeks to soothe you.
You resume to your position earlier, moving closer to Sam’s embrace, letting out a gasp as your sensitive core accidentally grinded again as you moved. Sam hushed you, murmuring careful - it’s alright. You wanted to be gently rocked in a hugging position for a few minutes to which your girlfriend sighs contentedly in.
“I hope you do know that I won’t be able to get back on studying for today.” you quip at Sam and you feel her laugh vibrate against you.
“Not my fault you had to look so scrumptious in my boxers, baby.”
 
You shake your head when you feel her exhale heavily again, with her strong hands wandering back to your ass. She gives it another squeeze, although it wasn’t as harsh as she previously did.
“You are such a bad influence to me.”
“You love me. Whatever.”
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
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evilminji · 1 month
Text
You know what I would kill to see?
Nedzu, in the Zone.
He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.
Whoops. Four year old with portals.
In a crowd.
Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.
Starts throwing the word "villian" around.
Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.
The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.
He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.
And to think, all he wanted was some tea.
How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.
He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.
The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.
There was no way to catch him in time.
He was already gone.
Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.
In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!
And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"
Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?
All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"
He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.
Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!
Then?? He just... shows back up to work.
How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
Text
Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up
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Pairing: Megumi x reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?
Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you
I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe
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Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.
When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.
“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”
“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”
Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.
“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.
“You know you don’t have to-“
“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”
Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.
“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”
You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.
-Megumi-
Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.
His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.
Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.
Just like his sister.
Just like Gojo-sensei.
Just like everyone else.
It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.
“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”
Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.
No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.
Nothing but emptiness.
Nothing but darkness.
“Megumi.”
Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-
“Megumi.”
Again.
His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-
“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”
“(y/n)?”
That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.
“Hey, it’s been a while.”
“You’re dead.”
That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.
You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.
“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.
Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.
He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…
He opens his eyes.
His gaze finds yours.
Time stands still.
“I missed you, cutie patootie.”
Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…
“(y/n)”, he breathes out.
“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”
You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.
“(y/n).”
And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.
“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.
“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.
“(y/n)!”
Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.
“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”
The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.
But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.
“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“
“But I did!”, he screams.
“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”
His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.
“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“
“Stop right there.”
Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.
“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”
Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.
“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.
“I love you.”
The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.
This is a reason to hold on, right?
“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.
“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”
“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”
Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.
“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”
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How do you think the dorm leaders would react to an rsa student leading/kidnapping the prefect to take them away from the 'villains', and when tracked down to a ledge and arguing with saud dorm leaders, the prefect defends them before getting accidentally pushed off? Just the look of horror on their face before they fall, reaching out for them? Ala gwen in spiderman
(I'm not going to do every dorm leader bc I normally have a cap of 5 characters per ask so if the leader you'd like to see isn't here, please feel free to send in another request
these are also all super long so they're under a cut)
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul had been thinking since the moment you’d been taken. He figured it must be someone with a personal grudge against him, rolling his eyes at the platitude that you would be safer with them than him. The twins are even considering less annoying while he’s plotting out what to do, trying to find a way that wouldn’t leave him vulnerable to another strike while also procuring you from your kidnappers. The fact they even agreed to a meeting proved to Azul that they were a devious soul, hidden behind a mist of chivalry when their wants were just as selfish as anyone at NRC. He comes into the conversation thinking he has everything under control, not in the least bit surprised when it turns into a real fight; his magic is at the ready, hand raised and prepared to do what he must to end this when you move outside of his predictions. He would have to viciously scold you for this later but he’s too worried to think about the angry rant he’ll go on for not just trusting in him to be ready no matter what. When you’re tumbling to the ground, he squeezed the handle of the broom he had brought with him, hating the concept of being in the air but feeling even more sick about all his hard work being for nothing (meaning: he would be heartbroken and would not know what to do with himself should you end up perishing on him here). It’s a little washy, but the carefully thought out Plan B ended with you scooped in his arms, his flying wobbly at best but once there’s a safe place to land you feel much safer with him around. When you ask what might happen to the RSA student Azul simply smiled, telling you not to worry about it as Jade and Floyd wouldn’t leave behind a single trace of what occurred that night.
Idia Shroud:
Idia is fighting a storm of emotions, doing his best to not to lose his cool in such a fragile situation. He had to observe the options before him carefully, hoping his perception skill was high enough to afford him a break. It felt like having someone ripped away from him again, the past repeating before his very eyes, and while he knew the stakes were much less serious than the previous situation he’d gone through, it still set his anxiety through the roof. He considered begging you to just stay in your room like he did so he wouldn’t have to worry about you putting yourself in danger (his thoughts darting away from the concept of you just living in a room with him). Idia isn’t used to sticking his neck out for someone else but he knew you, and he knew defending him if the moment called for it would come to you as easy as breathing. He had Ortho prepared for any QTE’s that might be outside of Idia’s control, thankful that the second controller was plugged in before he arrived as you did exactly as he predicted. He can see the fear on your face and while he does want to call out to you to let you know you’ll be safe, it would be better to keep the enemy unaware of the surprise attack awaiting once Ortho got you to safety. With you out of the way Idia felt much more at ease, the sharp grin on his face appearing almost manic to his enemy, who found themselves wondering if they should follow you off the ledge.
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona was doing his best to keep a poker face on. When it came to others thinking they were better than him, he was no stranger, but to know they had taken away someone he loved—he was prepared to show them what a real villain looked like. He navigated the situation carefully, this was just a risky game of chess in his eyes but he didn’t realize quite how risky it was until your life was dangling right before his eyes. He’s not unaware of how something can change in the blink of an eye, the scale could tip in either direction but he had to be prepared. He’s always been quick on his feet and there’s nothing in this world that he’d put more effort into than assuring your safety, even pushing himself to the brink of his magical abilities when he cushions the dramatic fall that easily could’ve stolen your life. The person preaching to him from above has only cemented his view that those who soar so high above don’t consider their own actions as evil, always for the ‘greater good’ which meant you were better off dead than with a ‘villain’ like him. He can’t help but scoff, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them as there’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air: he would kill them without hesitation if they were to ever touch a hair on your head again.
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus was shocked at first, secretly hurt, that people on the outside could look in at your relationship with him and consider him a danger to you. He was careful around you, always protective and caring and wanting what’s best for you, so how could that be misconstrued? It made his blood boil to think about your kidnapper trying to turn you against him, and he felt even more powerless when your life was in someone else’s hand so he had to act with caution. He approached with an air of calm that was betrayed by his eyes, the smile not quite reaching them as he greeted your captor politely. He didn’t think he could lead them into a false sense of security because everyone knew to be on guard against him, but he’s surprised the coward even showed their face again. He’s even more surprised to see you attempt to sacrifice yourself for him, reaching out for you and feeling helpless again as you slip right through his fingers; he refused to lose, his hands moving quicker than his brain was as he cast a last ditch effort spell to stop your fragile human body from becoming a stain on the ground. He’s relieved to see that his quick thinking had resulted in saving your life, the vines wrapped around your arms and legs like a comforting hug. He’s thankful he learned how to use the spell without including thorns, but his thoughts are now elsewhere, turning to look at his enemy with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. He tells them they should feel quite lucky that you’re in one piece, as if you had died, Malleus would have tormented their family for generations to come, if he allowed them to exist after this at all.
Riddle Rosehearts:
Riddle is trying to keep his cool, as Trey advised it was best he do so, but it was hard not to feel anger for the complete disrespect that was being shown. How could they think taking you away from your education would be the best route? From a place that you were thriving? If they thought he was doing a poor job as a dorm leader helping you, than they could’ve offered the criticism personally rather than causing you to break a hundred rules within the span of a day. He has to stop himself from raising his voice or going on a rant when he sees how frightened you are, feeling baffled again that this RSA student considered themself some sort of savior when they weren’t taking you into consideration at all. Even he had to learn a lesson or two in regards to it, and he considers it his turn to teach that lesson, challenging them to a duel that would decide where you would end up. Riddle, trusting in his opponents intent to have an honest duel, turned his back to get in place but is shocked to hear the other person winding their spell up already. Your interference is the only reason he’s in one piece but it was at the sacrifice of your own well-being; Riddle cried out your name, nearly panicking as he missed your hand by milliseconds. He can hear the chanting in his head, the word ‘failure’ stamped with bolded red letters, and he nearly lost himself in grief until he sees that Trey and Cater had tailed him. Now that he knew you were safe his face began to grow red, his complete rage turned on the RSA student who would learn the true definition of ‘off with your head’!
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