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bigoltrashpile · 2 days

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Stay With Us

Hi guys!! Once again the lovely @galacticroyal93 has commissioned me! This is a yandere fic with all the boys trying to convince reader to finally move in with them! I hope you enjoy!

Lucky growled as he scrolled through the pictures on his phone. His face almost hurt from how hard he was scowling. All he wanted was a good picture of you to add to his collection, but every one had…him in it. Your boyfriend. Another growl escaped Lucky as he thought the word. Every picture you had posted to your social media for the last few months had that scum in it.

All the skeletons had, either separately or together, plotted to kill him, of course. They couldn’t just let some…nobody have you. However, Papyrus had pointed out that if they killed him now, it might only force you into depression and solitude, pushing you further away instead of closer. So they were forced to watch from afar, all seething with jealousy when you talked about your boyfriend.

Lucky chuckled as he remembered how each of them reacted when you introduced them to your date. They ranged from Papyrus trying hard to smile but looking like he had just eaten a lemon, to Scar outright producing bone attacks and using his claws to sharpen them. After a little while, you stopped mentioning him around the skeletons, and he hadn’t seen any of them face to face since that first meeting.

Of course, many of them had seen him. They had to keep tabs on their favorite human, of course, and try to find dirt about their least favorite human.

After what felt like the hundredth photo of you and your boyfriend on a date, Lucky was fed up. He tossed his phone across the room and stood up. If he wanted to see you, he could do it in person. No need to look at photos when he could just see you for himself! Those pictures could never capture your true beauty, anyway.

Before he left, he quickly grabbed the small blue vial given to him by this world’s Alphys. He probably wouldn’t need to use it, but you could never be too prepared.

Lucky quickly shortcutted close to your home. Just appearing on your doorstep would seem too clingy, this way he could pretend he was just in the area when you saw him. He and the others had done this same song and dance many times before, but you hadn’t suspected anything yet.

He had only been walking for a minute or so, when someone walked almost straight into his chest. “WOAH, WATCH OUT-OH!” What luck! It was you!! “HELLO, DEAR! WHAT A COINCIDENCE!” he said, turning on the charm. “IT’S ALWAYS A DELIGHT TO SEE Y-” Lucky froze. You looked…strange. Not in a bad way, but… “Have You Been Crying?”

You paused, touching your red and puffy eyes. “Huh? Oh, no! I mean, yeah, but no. I was crying but like, it’s fine,” you half laughed.

Well that didn’t do anything to soothe his mind. “SO YOU WERE CRYING? WHY? DID YOUR BOYFRIEND DO SOMETHING?” He tried to fight the part of him that hoped your boyfriend had messed up his relationship with you.

“I mean…yeah? But also it was me who did it,” you giggled again. “Let’s walk, actually, and I can tell you about it!”

You kept going down the street, practically humming as you did. A very strange thing for someone who was just crying but also not crying. “...ARE YOU HIGH?” Lucky asked, following close behind.

“Uh huh! Oooooooh that’s probably why you thought I was crying!” you seemed to connect the dots in your fuzzy brain. “Yeah, it’s fine! I just broke up with my boyfriend and wanted to take the edge off a bit,” you said casually.

It took every ounce of self control for Lucky to not cheer and pump his fist in the air. You were single! This was the greatest thing that had ever happened!!! He let a small smile play across his face. You were slightly in front of him, he could allow himself that luxury. “I’M SO SORRY TO HEAR THAT!” Hopefully your smoke addled brain wouldn’t hear the excitement in his voice.

“It’s okay. It was…probably not the best relationship,” you admitted. “I mean, he wasn’t abusive or anything! He just like, didn’t listen to me ever, you know?”

“HE DID ALWAYS SEEM LIKE THERE WASN’T A LOT UPSTAIRS,” Lucky admitted.

“Yeah, haha! He’s a dumbass!” you joked, smacking Lucky playfully on the arm. “Not like you guys!”

Lucky gritted his teeth. Of course. You weren’t only thinking of him, but the others as well. That’s okay, he could work with this. “I DON’T KNOW, BUTCH IS PRETTY STUPID AS WELL,” he forced a laugh.

“Yeah, but he means well.” You gave him your dazzling smile. Even slightly out of it, you were breathtaking. “Hey, where are the other guys anyway? Are you here by yourself?”

“WELL, YES. I WAS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN I RAN INTO YOU.” An idea suddenly struck him. “WHY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO BACK TO THE HOUSE WITH ME?”

“You bet your ass I do! Your place is always soooooo fun!” you gushed.

“PERFECT. COME ON THEN, DEAR.” He held out his hand. You eagerly took it, and Lucky strolled around a corner with you, shortcutting you back to the skeletons’ home. This time, Lucky hoped, he could convince you to stay.

The two of you reappeared inside his home, and you were almost immediately noticed by the others. “darlin’!” Hound gasped. “what are ya doin’ here?”

“Lucky invited me!” you explained cheerfully. You half stumbled to the couch and inserted yourself in between Hound and Butch, who were watching some old show together. Lucky’s face contorted into a hateful glare. Thankfully, you were too busy trying to figure out how your legs worked. “I just broke up with my boyfriend…”

Butch’s eyes lit up, and Hound looked over at Lucky in surprise. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question. Lucky just shook his head. He didn’t have anything to do with it. You did that yourself.

“sorry to hear that, doll,” Butch said, voice not sounding sorry at all. “that mean you’re back on the market?~” As he spoke, he playfully trailed his hand up your inner thigh. You smacked it away, laughing.

“Not right now, I want to watch this with you guys!” You pointed at the show. Lucky didn’t recognize the program, but it seemed to feature several old women sassing each other.

Butch’s face fell, but he relented. All the better for him, Lucky thought. If Butch got to touch you before Lucky did, he would have to cut off Butch’s hand.

“DO YOU WANT TO STAY FOR DINNER?” Lucky asked. “I THINK NOIR IS IN CHARGE TODAY.”

Your stomach growled, and you nodded eagerly. “Yes please! I’m starving!”

“EXCELLENT! I BELIEVE IT WILL BE READY SOON.”

You nodded, quickly arranging yourself so that your head was on Hound’s lap and your legs draped across Butch’s. Both of them seemed thrilled by this unusually cuddly version of you. Lucky tried to stop himself from seething in jealousy. Sadly, there was no room for him to sit now, so he forced himself to not shove Butch out of the way and take his place. It’s okay, once you were his, he would be in that spot.

Butch gave Lucky a shit eating grin as he started running his claws up and down your soft legs. Not as suggestive as before, just relishing in the feel of your skin. Once again, it took all of Lucky’s self control to not snap right there.

“I’M GOING TO BE UPSTAIRS UNTIL DINNER,” Lucky half growled. He strode quickly out of the room. As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he almost ran into someone for the second time today.

“woah, bro, where are you going in such a hurry?” Oh thank the stars, it was Slim. “you okay? you seem ticked off.”

“YES, I…” He looked behind him. “Actually, Let’s Talk In Private.”

Slim nodded, and Lucky led him back to his room. Slim sighed at the state of Lucky’s room. It was messy as usual, but Lucky could find everything. Just because nobody else understood his system doesn’t mean it’s not organized! “i don’t know how you live like this.”

“HUSH, THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT! WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT…” Lucky paused for dramatic effect. “Our Human Is Newly Single.”

Slim’s eyes widened. “holy shit.”

“YES. THEY’RE STAYING FOR DINNER, BUT THE BEST PART IS THAT THEY ARE HIGH. THIS MEANS THAT THEY ARE MUCH MORE SUSCEPTIBLE.”

“we can finally get ‘em to move in,” Slim gasped.

“YES. DURING DINNER, WE NEED TO TRY OUR BEST TO GET THEM TO STAY. IF THAT FAILS, I HAVE THIS.” He pulled the blue vial out of his pocket. “I GOT THIS FROM THIS WORLD’S ALPHYS. IF THEY’RE NOT GOING FOR IT, I’LL SLIP THIS INTO THEIR FOOD, AND THEY’LL BE OUT LIKE A LIGHT. THEN, WE CAN TRY AGAIN IN THE MORNING. YOU CAN EVEN GET THEM HIGH AGAIN TO HELP CONVINCE THEM!”

“i dunno how i feel about that,” Slim muttered. “i mean, i don’t want to use weed to make them love us. that feels shitty.”

“THEY ALREADY LOVE US,” Lucky pointed out. “THEY JUST NEED WEED TO HELP THEM REALIZE IT!”

“still feels wrong…”

“IT’S ONLY A LAST RESORT,” Lucky pointed out. “IF ALL GOES WELL, WE DON’T NEED TO USE MY PLAN.” He gave his brother a joking smile. “PLUS, YOUR IDEAS HAD WAY MORE MURDER THAN MY PLANS.”

Slim rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah. i’m not actually hurting them though, just their shitty boyfriend. or, ex-boyfriend.” His smile grew. “this might actually work.”

“THANK YOU!”

“at least it’s better than sans’s plan.”

“THE BOX ON THE STICK?”

“nyeh heh heh, yeah! this isn’t fuckin’ looney tunes,” Slim laughed.

The two of them left Lucky’s room, feeling hopeful about their chances with you. After all, they could take care of you much better than your ex-boyfriend could.

--------------------------------

Within an hour, all nine of you were around the dinner table. Noir had cooked some curry, and it actually looked pretty good. Some of the meat was a bit scorched, but overall, it was much better than when he had first come to this universe. Lucky couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you practically inhaled your food. You really were hungry. He had heard of the munchies before, but it seemed you had it to the extreme. Papyrus piled some more food onto your plate, and you smiled at him gratefully.

After a few minutes of eating, Lucky finally spoke up. “SO Y/N,” he said as casually as he could muster. “I’M SORRY ABOUT YOUR BREAKUP.”

Immediately, the table went silent. They all turned to you, identical expressions of shock and excitement on their faces. Lucky was grateful that you were both oblivious and high so you didn’t suspect anything.

“Yeah,” you mumbled between forkfuls of rice. “I broke up with him.” You were frowning, but quickly replaced it with a smile. “He was kind of a jerk.”

“REALLY?” Papyrus asked gently. “HE SEEMED SO….NICE.”

“He was…at first. Then he started just…I dunno.” You sighed. “I’d ask him to do things, not even hard things, but he wouldn’t. Sometimes it was like I wasn’t even there.” You picked at your plate, appetite seemingly gone. “He’d tell me that he loved me, but he never showed it. Then when I got frustrated at him he’d act like I was the problem, you know? I kept trying to understand, but it just got to be too much.” You seemed to realize you had been talking for a while and shoved some more food into your mouth. “So yeah, dropped his dead weight!” You laughed. “I deserve someone who treats me right!”

“you sure do, darlin’,” Hound smiled. While you were facing Hound you didn’t notice Sans and Papyrus high fiving under the table. “you deserve someone who treats ya like royalty.”

“Ha! You guys are so nice you make me feel like royalty!” you laughed.

Now was his chance. Lucky spoke up again. “YES! WE COULD TREAT YOU LIKE THIS EVERY DAY!” he grinned, pretending to be joking.

“Pfft, come on, I can’t come over to your place every day!” you laughed. “You’d get sick of me!”

“we’d never get sick of ya, honey,” Slim interjected. He gave a small smile. “you could come over every day…or even just stay here.”

Finally, it seemed to click in the rest of the skeletons. “YES! YOU COULD STAY HERE,” Noir said, leaning forward. “I COULD USE SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATES MY CULINARY MASTERPIECES!”

“it’d be great to always have ya around, starlight,” Sans smiled. “we��re always so much happier when you’re here.”

You blushed. “Oh come on, there’s no way-”

Scar reached across the table and put his hand over yours. “I KNOW I DON’T ALWAYS SAY HOW I FEEL, BUT I WOULD BE OVERJOYED IF YOU LIVED WITH US,” he said bluntly. “DON’T TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME. YOU ARE A JOY TO HAVE HERE.”

That really seemed to get you, and you covered your face with your hands. “I-I mean…it’s so sudden, I can’t just pick up and move.”

“WHY?” Lucky asked.

“...I dunno,” you admitted. “I guess it would be nice to be around you guys…and have a change of scenery…and be around people who actually listen to me…” It seemed like you were doing the job of convincing you better than the skeletons were. “Fuck it, why not.”

“YOU MEAN IT?” Lucky asked. “YOU’LL LIVE WITH US?”

“Sure!”

Immediately, all of the skeletons erupted into cheers. You seemed shocked by the reception. “Jeez, I didn’t know you all liked me so much!”

Lucky laughed silently to himself. Sweet thing, you had no idea. “OF COURSE WE DO! YOU’RE OUR FRIEND, AFTER ALL,” he said.

Later that evening, you, Slim, and Lucky ended up on the couch together watching a movie. You had agreed to stay the night as a sort of “trial run.” You had fallen asleep much faster than either of them had expected, and your head lolled onto Lucky’s shoulder. You were pressed in between the two skeletons, and your body heat was heavenly.

“i can’t believe they said yes,” Slim whispered. He carded his phalanges through your hair. “i really thought it’d take more convincing.”

“Me Too,” Lucky admitted. “I’m Glad It Didn’t Come To That, Though.”

“yeah.” Slim smiled. “wish we’d have known. could’ve gotten them high way earlier than this.”

“I Thought You Didn’t Want To Use Weed To Convince Them,” he said teasingly.

“yeah, well, ya can’t argue with the results,” Slim chuckled. He gently tucked some hair behind your ear. “i mean, we got ‘em here with us.”

“We Certainly Do.” Lucky looked down at you. You looked so peaceful, so relaxed. He was right, no pictures could ever compare to the real you. And now, he’d have unfiltered access, whenever he wanted.

He had dreamed of having you all to himself, but…he had to admit that you, him, and his brother made a pretty great family. If he had to deal with the other skeletons for now, he could live with that. You would soon realize that he and his brother were the only ones for you.

Until then, this was pretty damn perfect.

#my garbage #writing #sans x reader #papyrus x reader #mafiatale #mafiaswap #mafiafell #mafiaswapfell #commissions #commission

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gleeksfreaksandwannabes · 4 months

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It’s totally normal to tear up over your own writing, right?

Anyway, Steve’s plan has finally come together, and I couldn’t let it go by without a solid dose of angst! Thank you so much for your love on this story, guys, it means so much!

#ohh steve #you fucked up #but also you broke my god damn heart #today on things i really wish were canon #bucky deserved to be saved #and i refuse to believe steve went back to the 40’s and didn’t even think to rescue him #or feel guilty about what he was going through while steve lived his apply pie life #also it is taking every ounce of self control i have not to post this entire story in one hit #because i’m nearly finished #my babies #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #marvel #my writing #laura’s writing

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months

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you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought

so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨

Danny: oh I always forget about that

someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes

Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes

wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order

word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs

(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)

"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.

Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."

"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"

Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."

"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."

"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.

Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"

The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.

"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.

She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"

Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."

"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"

He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.

He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.

Strange.

Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.

He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.

So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.

Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.

A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.

His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.

Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.

He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.

Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."

They were the myths.

Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.

The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.

It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.

After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.

With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.

Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.

That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.

In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.

The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"

What a strange place Gotham is.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #IRS's boogie man #Danny freaking out the Gotham Rouges #The Fentons are outlawed from their Taxes #Danny is in a new dimension and knowns nothing #He isn't even aware he was serving some of the worst criminals of Gotham #Jeff and Lucia Ricci have accidentally made a Deal with Ghost King Danny

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teyamsatan · 7 months

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ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ xᴠ - ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ

pairing: neteyam x human!reader (part of cruel summer)

➽ a/n: i am writing this like two hours before i'm posting, and i'm in the worst mood of my life and so i'm sorry if it comes across in my writing. i guess that's one of the many downsides of writing something the day before posting hahah. anyway, i hope you still enjoy x also i can't stop writing neteyam and vol apparently apologies

➽ words: 1k words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: a bit of choking, wimpering, subby!neteyam (switch!neteyam), size kink, a little angsty by the end

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

He was so much bigger than you. So much bigger. His body towered over yours, over both Na’vi and humans alike. You remember every stage, every milestone celebrated. You remember his growth spur, when you were both 17, when he went from tall to freakishly tall, taller than his dad, much taller than his mum and his siblings. You remember every muscle as it grew almost in front of your eyes, how he went from lean like his Omaticayan ancestry to buff and muscular like his human one.

It was easy now, to remember, as you straddled his hips, the darkness your bestest friend and secret keeper, allowing you these moments, allowing you to feel him, every inch of him, how it felt to be drunk on the way his supple, soft skin felt against your palms, the way your nipples perked as they grazed his chest when you pressed your body tightly against his own. How facile it was to get lost in him and in the feelings he elicited in you day after day, night after night, but particularly now, in these fleeting moments, in the few and far between moment in which it felt like he was... yours. Yours to have and to own, yours to lose and yours to love.

You licked a stripe from his collarbone to his jaw, smirking at the way his laboured breath got somehow heavier, thoroughly enjoying feeling wholly and completely in control for a change.

“What’s that, Teyam? Do you have something to say?”

You loved when he was mean, and dominating. You loved when he fucked you in public, when he made you cry on his cock, when he forced your thighs apart so you could make a mess all over his face, you loved submitting to him in any and every way you knew how. But this… this had its moments, too. There was something… irresistable about the way he was squirming under your much smaller body, his hips bucking in the air, desperate for any ounce of relief that you could bestow upon him, but… you haven’t had your fun yet.

“P-please, Vol. Fuck.”

Your touches were deliberate, your kisses strategically placed, slow and intentional, taking your time caressing and licking, biting and sucking all the way from his chest to his navel, down his happy trail, before focusing on his inner thighs, so close yet so far from the one place he truly needed you.

“Please what, Teyam? What do you need?”

A whimper, pushed past his plump, navy lips, as his arm covered his eyes unceremoniously was all he could muster in response, and you laughed against his groin, feeling near guilty at how much enjoyment you were drawing out of his pain. So, mustering as much self-control as you still had in you, you wrapped your delicate fingers against the intricate work of his knotted loincloth, undoing it and allowing his cock, thick and veiny and impossibly big to slap against his defined abdomen, leaving you a nearly drooling mess. It was hard to remember what you were trying to achieve, that you were meant to be in charge when there he was, rock hard and throbbing in your palm, spurts of precum falling down the shaft and interlacing with your fingers that would not meet as you stroked him from base to tip, mouth watering at the sight, at the way you couldn't wait until he was buried so deeply in you, it felt like he'd split you in half.

You knew it would hurt, taking him like this, topping him, riding him, but oh, that pain, the pain of being filled to the brim, of feeling him in your belly, of watching as he pushed the bulge his cock made down with his huge hands until you screamed... it was so, so worth it. You felt yourself dripping on him as soon as you aligned your folds to his tip, watching intently as he removed his arm covering his beautiful features to watch you, his eyes as wide as his pupils as they took you in, your naked body he worshipped, focusing on every inch of you before stopping at where your bodies met. You threw your head back as you began lowering yourself onto him, stifling a cry at the overwhelming sensation, at how the pleasure mixed with ache in a swirling, intoxicating amalgamation that threatened to completely unmoor you from this plane of existence and allow you to float among another, a higher one... a greater one. There was a small inadvertent gasp that filled the silence of the room when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, his thumb pressing on your jaw until you felt the air trapped in your lungs.

"Don't. Look at me, Vol. Keep your eyes on me while you ride me."

And so you did. And you came, hard and fast, and watched as he whimpered and moaned beneath you, thrusting upwards into you uncontrollably, over and over, unable to stop himself and the way having your tight little cunt was making his mind empty with no thoughts but one - a desperate desire to fill you up with his cum, over and over, until you were nothing but him, until his scent was so permeated with your own it was impossible to distinguish the two apart anymore.

He would never have you. You'd never be his. No matter how hard he wants you, in every way, forever and for always, that little fact, harsh and cruel, was indisputable. He would never be able to take you to the tree of souls and mate you, he'd never be able to form the sacred bond with you. Your kids will never run around the village and their laughter will never fill his soul with the happiness he only now knew when he was in your presence. This, this fucked up love he held so hidden in his heart, watching your eyes roll in the back of your head as the pleasure overcame your senses, whispering quiet, unspoken whispers of i love you, i need you, i wish things could be different... it would have to be enough.

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl@linydoll @the-mourning-moon@kasai-https @dvxsja (if your tag doesn't work pls check your settings x)

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krolik-draws · 4 months

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hello

(Hopefully this doesn’t sound too cringe)This is Dusk, a NightWing/SkyWing hybrid, and she hatched under two full moons, as well as the highest mountain, as the dragonet of Eris the NightWing and Icarus the animus SkyWing.

Her parents scoured for anything on how to take care of an animus dragonet, as well as Eris contacting a family friend, Hope, formerly known as FoeSlayer, to get some advice so that Dusk’s soul doesn’t waste away like Darkstalker’s.

She wasn’t allowed to use her magic until she was of age, and she was taught throughout her life that she should be careful when using it, and when she was old enough, she was given an earring that would help her make good decisions when she’s about to enchant something.

When I was 13 I was in the cafeteria telling my friends about my new sans OC. I was already anxious talking about him because I was put down a lot by my family so it punched me in the gut when one of my "cool" friends called my OC Kitsune Samurai Sans OC cringe. There were times they also called my OC's mary sues, poorly designed, and at some points they left me out of role-plays entirely for probably the same reasons. It crushed me as a kid and even today I can't make a story let alone write an essay without the nagging feeling in my head telling me that what I'm making is "cringe" or "poorly made". (as you all probably can tell from my CONSTANT self critique on my posts).

Storytelling is a beautiful and versatile art that requires a piece of ourselves every time we set a pen to paper. When someone or even yourself insults a story you made, it kills not only the creativity but the part of yourself that you tucked away in that story. What I have learned, through the hard way, is that no story is a bad story, no art piece is "cringe". Sure there are standards but that's for you to decide and not some dumb-ass who doesn't know an ounce of how much heart you put into your art.

Cringe is just slang boring people made because they were jealous of others who simply created whatever they wanted however they wanted. People fear a world without rules because they don't feel like they have control, don't let them have it over you.

Your story is not cringe, you are simply playing with the logic of magic in Wings of Fire and made a beautiful and neat dragon from that scaffolding. I like how you twisted the take on the usual "dreary depressed all powerful magic dragon" and am curious to see how Dusk would hand magic "properly" so to speak. Also I'd like to know just how important those earrings may come to be in the future. I adore Dusk and I hope to see how you bend the laws of animus magic, as well as, more of your creations!

#broke: be cringe and free #woke: make art and fart #wings of fire #wof #krocaws #sorry it took so long I was watching paint dry #my art

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barnesafterglow · 1 year

Text

she lives in daydreams with me

summary: your best friends thinks she has a solution to your problem

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: college au, reader is bisexual, another cameo bc apparently that's my niche, phone/facetime sex, f masturbation (duh), soft dom!wanda, mommy kink question mark, praise, this is not based off real life unless it is ykwim

a/n: hi this is my first time writing wlw smut so please go easy on me. i'm almost done with my kinktober prompts! i hope you all have enjoyed them, and reblog and comments are very appreciated!

you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

“I think you just need to get laid, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, entirely unamused with her suggestion. Of course you needed to get laid, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. She saw the eye roll clearly through the computer screen, which sent her into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that,” was your response. “Any suggestions for that? Because the entire population of New York City seems to think I’m a leper who can’t be touched.”

“Have you even tried?”

“I downloaded Tinder.”

“Did you make a profile?”

“Well, no.”

“Okay then.”

The two of you had this conversation every handful of months, after you had broken things off with another “friends with benefits” situation and were sick of not getting off whenever you wanted.

“I’m just saying, babe,” she started off gently, which you knew was a load of bullshit, “you always know where you can go for help.”

“I’m not hooking up with Barnes again.” She was forever trying to get you to go out with your neighbor - who you had already spent the night with on more than one occasion. “We’re better off as friends.”

“You can’t be just friends with a man like that. I mean from what you told me about his -”

“Okay!” you said, cutting her off. “We were talking about your terrible suggestion and how there’s no solution?”

“I just think you need someone who knows. Someone you know would be good to you.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Like me.”

You had been taking a sip of the water, and it took every ounce of self control you had to keep from spewing it all over your laptop.

It’s not that it had never crossed your mind. Wanda was beautiful and was definitely good in bed - you had shared an apartment with her long enough, before she decided to study abroad, to know that she kept her girlfriends satisfied. She had also been your best friend since you were in diapers and you’d never wanted to jeopardize that.

But the way she was looking at you now, you could see the darkness in her green eyes even through the screen, and suddenly you had never wanted anyone more.

“I - really?” You expected her to laugh and say just kidding! and you would move on like nothing happened, but instead she just bit her lip and nodded.

Well fuck.

“You’re halfway across the world, Wan.” She was in Vienna at the moment, studying art culture or whatever it is that went on in her brain. “I can’t wait until you get back.”

“Who says you have to wait?” And oh wasn’t that something. “Do you trust me?”

Your answer was immediate. “Of course.”

“Then why don’t you take your clothes off and go sit on your bed?”

It felt like your heart was pounding out of your chest. You couldn’t believe this was your Wanda. Your Wanda. Maybe she would be after tonight.

You turned your head back towards your bed; the way your laptop was placed on your desk, there would be a perfect view of you from the camera. Like you were putting on a show.

For a moment, you hesitated. Were you really going to cross this line? Was it worth the risk?

And, yeah, Wanda was worth anything.

So you stood up, slowly pushing your desk chair in and setting gingerly on the end of your bed. You took your shorts off first, exposing the pink panties with a little bow on the front. Call it fate, but Wanda had always said they made your ass look fantastic.

You spread your legs just a little, enough to be seductive but not enough to show anything - yet.

Then you played with the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to show the skin of your stomach before dropping the material. Just as you were about the material over your head, her voice came through the speakers.

“Don’t tease, baby. Let me see you.”

Your core was molten lava. She had called you a lot of nicknames over the years, some affectionate, some funny, and some that were so off the wall you would never know where they came from. But baby was new. Baby had you squeezing your thighs together. Baby would be the only thing you ever responded to for the rest of your life.

The shirt came off, flying to some corner of your room, and your chest was bare to her. Her intake of breath served to make you self conscious and confident at the same time. It wasn’t the first time she had seen you naked - and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last - but those times had always been a platonic sense, at least mostly.

But now she was staring at you like she wanted to eat you alive, and you had never wanted her to be home more than you did in that moment.

You slipped your hands under the waistband of your underwear, ready to expose yourself in an entirely new way, when you looked up to see her completely stripped down. You could feel the puddle forming in your panties immediately.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun, did you?” She had a cheshire smile on her face, laced with lust and love and wonder, and suddenly you weren’t nervous anymore.

Your panties came off and the two of you took a moment just to soak in the sight of the other.

Wanda was beautiful - perfect tits topped with rosy pink nipples, smooth skin all the way down to her core, and the prettiest pussy you had ever seen.

Her hands wandered and your eyes followed, dumbstruck, as they settled on her inner thighs. Your gaze flicked up to her face, where she seemed to be waiting patiently.

It was like you had forgotten you even had a body, you were so mesmerized by her that even the thought of anything else was a far off dreamland.

But you knew what she wanted, so you slipped your underwear and spread your legs wide, mirroring her movements.

“Now let me see you open yourself for me. Start with one finger, let me see how tight you are.”

Following her words were like second nature, and you leaned back on one elbow on your bed, the other hand circling your clit, before sinking one finger into yourself, starting to move slowly. When you looked up, you saw Wanda was doing the same.

It ripped a moan from your body, a noise you had never made before, and she smiled wickedly.

“Yeah, baby, you like that? You’re doing such a good job. Why don’t you add another finger for me?”

You did as she asked, letting another finger join the first while you pumped in and out of yourself. When she asked you for another, you quickly obliged, then doing the same when she told you to lay back and use the other hand to play with your clit.

And every move you made, you moaned at the sight of Wanda doing the same, until the only noises were breathy moans and the wetness of your bodies.

It was almost instinct to ask for permission once you felt the coil in your stomach on the verge of snapping.

“Mo- Wanda, please, let me come.”

She wasn’t in the mood to tease you, it seemed, because she gasped a yes and followed you over the edge.

Once you came down, you sat up, taking in her flushed face and the redness that spread all the way down to her chest, then looked her right in the eyes and sucked your own juices from your fingers.

She smiled, pleased, and you again mirrored her. There was no awkwardness, you didn’t think there ever could be with her, and you searched for your t-shirt, slipping it on as you sat down in your desk chair.

Lucky for you, she didn’t follow suit, and you were allowed a closer look at her perky tits.

“Wan, I need you to come home ASAP.”

“Don’t worry baby, I already bought a plane ticket.”

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda marvel #tiff writes #kinktober 22

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thiccpettybitch · 9 months

Text

Sweet Sorrow - Ch. 1 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader

Phew, alright, I have to admit, this chapter was a bit of a struggle to write. My self-doubt and anxieties are having a go at me, and I can't help but feel like I rushed it a little. But you know what? I'd rather get it out there than keep overthinking it until I can quote it word for word.

I know it might be a bit confusing or jumbled right now, but I promise it'll get easier to understand as the story unfolds. There are so many good moments planned that I can't wait to share with you 😭

Today's been a self-doubt day for me, but hey, it happens. Now, let's talk about Sweet Sorrow, the spin-off of my baby Bitter Sweet. I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know what you think about it. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.

Also, I want to take a moment to say thank you so much for all the support. We've reached over 1000 likes and over 100 reblogs, and I'm incredibly grateful for every single one. Your likes, questions, comments, and asks truly make my day brighter. I can't say it enough – thank you all from the bottom of my heart!💖

(I’ve also gotten all your asks so don’t worry! Once the next chapter of Bitter Sweet is out, i will begin slowly releasing them as well! ty again, ilu all!)

Now, I'm going to take a deep breath and keep pushing forward with the story. With your support, I know I can make it even better, and I'm excited to see where this journey takes us.

Part 2

As you find yourself hurtling towards an inevitable end, you gaze upward, and there is Miguel, falling with you. His hand reaches out with desperate hope, as if trying to bridge the impossible distance between you. Despite his bloodied and battered state, he grits his teeth, calling out for you with a heart-wrenching cry. You don’t have the strength to call out for him, tears well up in your eyes, suspended in the air like tiny, glistening droplets, as you continue to fall.

You know he won't be able to catch you; the fall is too fast, the distance too great. However perhaps selfishly so, you still use the last of your strength to call out for him, begging him to save you.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the Green Goblin appears, swooping in on his glider. He crashes into Miguel's side, sending him careening into another building. You close your eyes letting out another sob as you watch The Green Goblin looks down at you, his face twisted with malevolence. He gives you a small, taunting wave, relishing, before setting his sights on Spiderman, on Miguel.

Will it hurt?

As you plummet, the inevitable ground approaches, and you can't help but think that this is it. In a final desperate act, you call out Miguel's name, as if it's your way of making a lasting impact on the world. The prospect of death might be beyond your control, but no one can take away the memories of his name, his face, his smile, his touch, and his love. They will be the last thoughts in your mind before you touch the ground. Before you die.

With a loud gasp, the back of your jacket unexpectedly snags on a flag post, suspending you high above the ground. As you look down, the world spins around you, making your head swirl with dizziness. Panic takes hold, and you cry out in a desperate attempt to free yourself. The flagpole protests with creaks, and you find yourself trapped, unable to move without facing a deadly plunge. It's as if fate is playing one last cruel joke on you, leaving you helplessly suspended, caught between life and death.

---

Miguel's expression contorted with pain as the glider collided with him, forcing the air from his lungs in a pained grunt. Amidst the chaos, Osborn's sinister laughter echoed in his ears, fueling his determination. He mustered every ounce of strength, pushing himself up, his talons digging into the glider's metal.

‘’Miguel--!!’’

Rage and panic surged through him, driving Miguel to lash out. With a fierce punch, he thrust his hand through the metal, causing cables and sparks to fly, but he paid no mind to the chaos around him. Osborn cursed and fought back, trying to halt his advance. Fingers closed around Miguel's mask, but he didn't care anymore, not even as the mask was yanked off, and their eyes met. A roar escaped his lips as he smacked Osborn in the face, the broken glider sending the villain flying into a nearby building.

Despite his aching body, Miguel webbed onto two buildings simultaneously, propelling himself forward through the air. He ignored the pain, focused only on reaching his destination. Landing on the roof of the building where you had fallen, he scrambled up on all fours, rushing to the edge. Before he could react, a blinding light burst through the air, and he collided with a solid mass, sending him falling backward.

Looking up, Miguel froze in astonishment. Before him stood a large, futuristic-looking Spiderman, his face concealed behind a mask, yet the intensity of his gaze felt palpable. It was as if he was scrutinizing Miguel's very soul. But the urgency in your cry brought him back to the present. Determined to reach you, he rose to his feet, ready to dash over, only to be halted by the other Spiderman's outstretched hand, signaling him to stop.

"Don't kid," the man's voice resonated with a deep yet strangely familiar tone.

"What- ¡Bastardo! ¡Fuera de mi camino!" Miguel practically spat, his frustration boiling over as he tried to move past the other Spiderman. But his defiance was met with an iron grip on his suit, forcing him back to the ground with a powerful slam. Despite his own strength, Miguel found himself overpowered as the other Spiderman held him down effortlessly with just one arm.

Rage surged through him as he yelled in frustration, attempting to push the man off, but to no avail. The other Spiderman responded by slamming him back down, now using both arms to maintain control. Their faces were inches apart, and the intensity of the moment was almost suffocating.

"Listen to me!" the other Spiderman growled; his voice urgent. "I can save her! But you have to listen to me; I don't have much time!"

Miguel's eyes locked onto the stranger's face, wide with unfiltered rage. Their attention was momentarily drawn to the ledge by the sound of a creaking pole and your desperate cries.

"Hijo de puta! Get off me, I’ll rip your head off!" Miguel yelled in frustration, but his defiance only resulted in another punishing slam into the roof, leaving him gasping for breath.

As if by some futuristic mechanism, the man's mask suddenly dissolved before Miguel's eyes, leaving his face fully exposed in an instant. He froze, staring up in pure shock.

"Yeah well, good luck with that, kid," Miguel looked up at the older version of himself, utterly speechless and shocked.

"¡Escúchame!" The older man's voice echoed with intensity, his crimson eyes locking fiercely with Miguel's brown ones.

"Even if you save her now, she'll be in danger again, maybe later today, maybe tomorrow, maybe next shocking week. It doesn't matter! She'll keep facing death over and over!" Miguel shook his head, about to protest, but he was forcefully pushed back against the roof, the pain shooting through him.

"SHUT UP!" the older version of himself shouted, cutting off any further objections.

"She is destined to die! Because of you! Because of who you are, because of who WE are! But I can save her… I can save her life, you understand?’’ Miguel gazed up at the man, still in shock and pain, his eyes glazing over as he looked toward the ledge of the building.

"I can save her. But she can never see you again. She will be safe with me; she can have a life with me, but only if I take her with me. You have to let her go." The older version of himself pressed him down before rising and leaning over Miguel, hovering just above him, his finger pointing directly at his face.

"You go over there now, you save her?" He pointed towards the edge. "She dies. And there is NOTHING I can do about it. You have to make a choice, right now." Miguel swallowed hard, his eyes glossing over as he looked at the ledge and then back at the older version of himself.

"I…" Miguel hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

"CHOOSE, NOW!" The older Miguel barked, his teeth showing in a fierce display of impatience.

"I… Save her! I love-" Miguel's voice trembled as he looked up at the older version of himself. To his surprise, the man's expression softened slightly. In that fleeting moment, they shared a connection. Miguel blinked, and just like that, the mask formed back over the older man's face, concealing his emotions once more. He stood tall, turning away from Miguel, leaving him sitting there.

"I'll keep her safe. Tienes mi palabra," the man said, glancing briefly over his shoulder before leaping off the side of the building.

Miguel remained sitting there, a mixture of relief and sorrow flooding through him. He watched as bright lights illuminated the scene, listening to your desperate calls for him. His entire body went rigid. He dashed up, rushing to the side, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of the portal closing, taking you away with it. You were gone, leaving him standing there alone, his fists trembling at his sides. The distant sounds of the city were drowned out by the deafening sound of his heart hammering in his ears.

---

The flagpole keeps creaking, and panic engulfs you as you frantically search for anything to hold onto, causing you to swing back and forth in desperation. With every creak, the pole bends a little more, making your heart race even faster. You stretch upward, trying to grasp onto it as it starts bending downwards.

Your hands wrap around the pole, but you feel yourself slipping, and in desperation, you cry out for Miguel, for anyone, to come and save you. The bolts that attach the flagpole to the wall begin to move as your weight puts strain on the weak fastenings, threatening to give way.

In a terrifying moment, the small flagpole is pulled out of the loosening bolts, and you scream as it drops, together with you.

Suddenly, a figure casts a shadow above you, and you look up just in time to witness another Spiderman's arrival. His talons dig into the wall as he slides down, causing it to crack apart. In a swift move, he snatches the collar of your shirt, catching you, and with incredible strength, he pulls you up and holds you with one arm. For a moment, you stare at each other, shocked and slightly bloodied you stare up at the eyes of his mask slowly narrowing, as if he waited for something to happen.

But before you can comprehend what's happening, the man throws you through a portal, and you scream out for Miguel, your voice echoing in desperation. He follows right behind you, and the world around you shifts drastically.

The surroundings are strange, uncanny, and constantly morphing into different shapes, colors, and constructs. It feels as if you're floating in space, yet there's a sense of movement, as if the world around you is shifting and transforming. Shapes, sounds, and colors blend together, creating an otherworldly experience. It's as if you've entered a realm where time, space, and reality intertwine, leaving you in a state of awe and bewilderment.

Suddenly, the man reappears, the other Spiderman, leaping towards you with a trademark Spiderman leap. Panic grips you as you scramble to escape. Whoever this guy was, whether he wore a Spiderman suit or not, he wasn’t Miguel.

You flail your arms and legs, akin to a dog attempting to swim for the first time. However, before you can fully comprehend what's happening, a hand snatches you up and propels you towards yet another bright light. Your body is flung through the portal, leaving you disoriented and landing on your front in a large and dimly lit room.

Slowly, you push yourself up on your arms, whispering a quiet, pained "ow..." The realization of the situation dawns on you, and your eyes shoot open. Flipping over onto your back, you begin to crawl backward, putting distance between yourself and the man who is stepping toward you.

Every muscle in your body tenses with fear and uncertainty. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest as you try to make sense of where you are and what's happening. The dim light in the room casts eerie shadows, adding to the surreal atmosphere. You don't know who this man is or what he wants, and your instincts urge you to keep your distance.

"Lyla!" His voice startled you, and as you turned around, a cheerful yellow hologram of a woman materialized on the man's shoulder.

[Oh, hey Boss~ How’d it go- Oh…]

Suddenly the hologram playfully teleported in front of you. Instinctively, you scooted back, keeping both of them at arm's length. The hologram, Lyla, flickered momentarily before returning to the man's shoulder.

"Check her vitals and bring up the statistics from her dimension," he says, drawing a circle with his hand to encompass all of you. As he walks past, you scramble away, realizing that he doesn't seem interested in you. Making his way over to some monitors, he starts typing something in.

[Got it]

The hologram nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders as a bright yellow light shines over you, seemingly scanning your body. You instinctively move away, flinching as the light flicks from one side of you to the other.

[Elevated heart rate; 123 bpm. The respiratory rate is increased, steady at 15. Without a thorough check-up, I can't provide precise statistics. However, based on a quick review, she shows possible signs of anxiousness and confusion, and she might be somewhat disoriented. Additionally, she could be showing signs of paleness, which might indicate a drop in her blood pressure, although that could also be due to a lack of sun exposure... sorry to call you out, y/n]

"Lyla..." The man's voice carried a cautious tone as he swiftly typed on a hologram keyboard, summoning screens before him.

[The canon is stable, no disruptions or anomalies detected.] The hologram swiftly flicked around and settled in front of you, making you flinch involuntarily.

[I'm so excited to have you here! I mean, hiiiii! My name is Lyla! I have so many questions for you~ By the way, is that your natural hair color? Because-] Lyla's bubbly introduction is interrupted as you ask, your hands trembling slightly.

"How do you know my name…?" you inquire, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease.

Lyla flicks, and in an instant, her back is turned towards you, now facing Miguel with her hands on her hips. Then she flicks again and reappears in front of him.

[You didn't tell her?] she asks Miguel, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Haven't really had the chance to yet," he snapped at her, clearly annoyed, as he finished whatever he was doing on the monitors. Finally, he turned around to face you.

The man walked over towards you, and fearfully, you scrambled backward. He stopped, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender, and let out a tired sigh. "I won't hurt you," he reassured you. Despite his words, you still flinched and moved back even more as he takes another step towards you.

"You have my word; you are safe here. I just need to give you this," he said, holding up what seemed like a futuristic watch.

As he moves forward and you flinch back once again, your back pressed against the wall, he lets out a frustrated sound. Suddenly, he leaps at you and snatches your wrist, causing you to cry out and instinctively smack your closed fist against his chest.

"Stop! Wait! Just—just hold still!" You try to pull away from him as he tris to calm you down, his grip tight as he tries to hold you in place.

"No, stop moving, I'm—stop," he says wearily, trying to get you to calm down.

"No! Let go of me! HELP ME, SOMEONE, PLEASE!" Panic surges through you, and your body is on high alert as you thrash around in his grip, your eyes darting around the room for someone, anyone.

He snatches both of your wrists, trying to hold you still, but your panic escalates into a full-blown panic attack. You pull, hit, and kick him, desperately trying to pry your hands away and get away from him.

"Just—STOP!" The man finally says, grabbing the bottom of your face and forcing you to look up at him. You resist at first, attempting to break free from his grip, until you finally open your eyes and freeze. As you watch, the Spider-Man mask covering his face dissolves away, revealing his face.

The man standing in front of you was a spitting image of Miguel, a bit older, with a few more wrinkles likely from frowning and stress rather than actual age, you would have guessed. He stared down at you, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown. Shocked and unable to move, you could only stand there, gazing up at him.

He took the opportunity to snap the bracelet onto your wrist. It wasn't tight, but it felt secure enough that it wouldn't easily come off. You didn't even notice, too absorbed in staring at his face.

Finally, Miguel, older Miguel, let go of you and straightened up, his gaze turned away with a noticeable frown on his face.

"Who..." you asked, your eyebrows tightly together as you took in his appearance.

"My name is Miguel O'Hara. I lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiverse-" he began explaining.

"What- no," you interrupted, taking a step back and shaking your head, a look of confusion and disapproval on your face, "I know Miguel, you—you're not my—"

"I am Miguel, but not your Miguel, I am from another dimension," he clarified, attempting to make sense of the situation.

[This dimension, to be more specific], Lyla chimed in, appearing hovering above his shoulder, seemingly nonchalant.

You shook your head slowly, your lip trembling as you glanced down at the floor, trying to process what you had just been told. You closed your eyes tightly, attempting to stop the swirling emotions from overwhelming you. It was as if by not agreeing and not wanting it to be true, you hoped somehow to fix the situation.

"I don't—I don't know you. I want to go back; I need to make sure Miguel—MY Miguel is okay!" You push past him and walk over to where the portal had been, running your hands over the surface of the wall, searching for some sort of button or switch.

"You can't go back," he says firmly.

"What?" you ask, turning around to face him. "What do you mean 'can't'? You brought me here, so you can take me back!" you protest.

"You," he sighed, glancing around the room, searching for the right words before finally closing his eyes in defeat. He looked at you with a serious expression, "You were supposed to die tonight, but I managed to find a way around it. However, for that to happen and for you to survive, you can't.... you can't go back. I'm sorry."

"You're lying... I survived! I've been in dangerous situations before! I—this was no different, I got saved—" you protested, your emotions running high.

"You got saved by ME; I interfered. Without it, you would have been killed," he explained, his hands now on his hips as he walked over to you slowly.

"In our worlds... as Miguel and y/n, we are the equivalent of a Spiderman," he pointed at his own chest and then gestured to yours, "and a Gwen Stacy."

You frowned, looking at his hand, and he let out a quiet sigh. "It's a messed up 'never meant to be' canon event that is unavoidable, trust me – I have tried. As soon as versions of us meet, it starts."

"What starts?" you asked, feeling confused.

"A canon event, something that can't be avoided without the risk of total and complete destruction of that dimension," he responded matter-of-factly.

You let out a bitter laugh. "You're kidding me, right? You want me to believe that an entire dimension, world, universe—whatever—would collapse just because versions of us start dating?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked, taking a step towards you, his voice low and dangerous as he towered over you. "In every universe, versions of us date, and you, almost every version of you, die. That's your story."

Miguel leaned back, looking down at you with disdain. "Or, if you're lucky, I'm the one who dies. Either way, that's our story, our fate. If anything, or anyone, breaks that cycle, THAT then threatens that dimension's safety."

"Why?!" Your voice broke, and a mixture of anger and sadness welled up inside you, tears building up in your eyes.

He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because it's a canon event! And canon events cannot be broken without the risk of complete multidimensional collapse."

Everything he said sounded so foreign to you, yet strangely believable. The sincerity in his voice and the evidence you had witnessed so far led you to believe him. He didn't come across as a man who would lie. But believing his words didn't mean you had to accept them.

Your hands felt clammy, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. A headache began to pulse in your temples, and as you looked up, the room seemed to spin around you, leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented. This couldn't be happening... this couldn't be real.

"I-I want to go back. Take me back..." you desperately say, your words a mix of a plea and demand.

"I can't do that," he responds, his hands on his hips.

"Let me go back!" you cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"I can't do that," he responds again, avoiding your gaze, a heavy weight in his voice.

You feel yourself heat up, anger and panic mixing into a dangerous and unfamiliar mess inside you, threatening to erupt. Suddenly, a door next to you opens, revealing two people dressed in Spiderman suits—one wearing a blue vest, and the other clad in a fully black suit with white marks.

"Take her to my quarters, let her lay down and rest until I find a place for her to stay," Miguel mumbles, tiredly rubbing his eyes with one hand as he turns around to leave.

"Don't touch me... I’m not going anywhere!" you warn, your voice firm

Miguel stops and his head whips around as he looks down at you, his eyebrows raised. The unspoken question, dare, hung heavily in the air.

Is that so?

---

You thrashed around, your fists smacking into his bulky back as he had you slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Curses and threats spilled from you, but he remained nonchalant, walking ahead with a frown on his face. Your yelling caught the attention of people around you, and as you looked up, you realized that everyone was wearing different kinds of suits, all with some sort of Spider symbol or design.

After an awkwardly long elevator ride, during which you had tired yourself out with all your kicking and thrashing, you heard the ding as the elevator doors opened. Stepping outside, he carried you until he ended up in front of a pair of doors. He dropped you on your feet and you opened your mouth about to curse him out when he spun you around and pushed you inside.

"You—YOU! You can't just... I HAVE RIGHTS!" you shouted in frustration and anger.

"Oh? Great, oh wow" he responded sarcastically, barely letting you get your words out.

"AND YOU CAN'T JUST, JUST TAKE ME AND—" you continued to vent your anger.

"Uh huh, uh huh," he nodded, his hands on his hips, watching you storm over towards him with a mocking smile on his face.

The doors closed abruptly in your face, and you stopped, your eyes wide with pure shock. For a moment, you were left speechless, trying to process what had just happened, your eye twitching in annoyance.

And then? Then you began breaking stuff.

You were yelling a mixture of gibberish and curses, you had been smacking your hand against the metal sliding doors for what felt like hours, kicking at them, and demanding to be let out. When that didn’t work you began trashing the place, kicking chairs out of your way, smacking over books and bowls and- well… the place wasn’t really decorated much. Until finally you were left pacing back and forth, a pillow held tightly in your hands, it was the only thing around not yet on the floor.

You finally stopped, backing up to take in your surrounding and the state of the room, as your back hit the wall, you slowly came to a stop, dropping the pillow you had been holding. It wasn't much of a weapon, but in that moment, you didn't really care; your mind was not thinking straight.

Your eyes shifted around the room, taking in the destruction you had unintentionally caused. Finally, you slumped back, feeling your body slide down against the wall until you landed softly on the floor. You pulled your knees up against your chest and wrapped your arms around them hiding your face.

In your mind, this felt like a terrible nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. You yearned to open your eyes and find yourself back in the safety of your bedroom, with sunlight streaming through the blinds. The comforting routine of having breakfast with your aunt and uncle, followed by a trip to school to meet your friends and, of course, Miguel. It filled your heart with a sense of normalcy you sorely missed.

Your chest felt so tight for a moment that you thought you might be having a heart attack, but it was more likely a panic attack taking hold of you. The knot in your stomach tightened, and the silence around you only amplified your distress. It felt as if the world was closing in, leaving you struggling for breath and unable to think straight.

You desperately needed to wake up. This had to be nothing more than a terrible nightmare. Lifting your tear-stained face from your arms, you took in the surroundings of the room, hoping to find some semblance of familiarity. It was a small, cramped space with a kitchen area, a bedroom, a compact living area with a large desk, and finally, a door that you presumed led to the bathroom. At first glance, it didn't look like a jail cell, but then why did it feel as though invisible metal bars were closing in around you?

Your eyes shifted to your wrist, and you had to take a deep breath to steady yourself. The braided bracelet encircling it suddenly felt so heavy, like a weight pulling you down. Your chin trembled, and your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, you began to weep, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your forehead against the bracelet.

After what felt like hours of crying, you noticed a bright yellow light shined down on you. Looking up, you watched as Lyla materialized in front of you, silently observing you.

[Miguel has instructed me to give you a quick tour of his quarters. Would you... like me to show you around?]

If you had to guess, you would probably say she's some kind of AI; thus, who knows if she could feel sympathy or even understand what you were going through. Running the back of your hands over your eyes, you wiped away some of the tears, but you were still unable to get your breathing under control.

[Is there anything I can help you with? I could pull up a few breathing exercises or calming videos of puppies if you would like?]

You eyed her for a moment, contemplating whether she was being genuine or making fun of you. Based on the tone of her voice and the hologram itself, Lyla seemed to be at least trying to comfort you.

[I have to admit... I'm not really good at this. It's not as if Miguel possesses a wide range of emotions.]

"What time is it?" You asked, choosing to ignore her attempt at small talk.

[It's approximately six PM.]

"Why is it so dark in here?"

[Miguel prefers it that way. In his work station and quarters, you'll find the lighting is usually kept dim.]

You glance around the room and realize that one of the reasons it feels like a glorified prison cell is the lack of a window.

"Does he hate windows too?" you ask bitterly.

[No. However, I was instructed not to open it due to...] She trails off, nervously flickering her gaze around the room.

"Due to what?" you press, narrowing your eyes as you slowly stand.

[There are napkins in the third drawer of his desk, please help yourself,] she said, smoothly changing the subject.

Silently, you walked over to the desk, your gaze fixated on the drawers. You made a mental note to check them all out later, when you weren't being watched. You pulled on the drawer, and there, on top of some files, you found the box of napkins. You consciously ignored the box of lotion that lay behind it.

"Terrific..." you muttered to yourself, feeling slightly frustrated.

"Why can't you open a window?" you demanded.

[I am fully capable of opening a window, it's—] Lyla began to explain.

"Why were you instructed not to, then?" you interrupted, your upper lip twitching in annoyance.

Lyla fell quiet, flickering around until she reappeared in front of you on the desk. You wiped your nose and some tears off your face, feeling a mix of emotions. Suddenly, a noise on the far wall caught your attention. You looked over and watched as some blinds, which had been impossible to spot in the dark, cracked open, allowing a stream of light to finally shine in.

[Ooh, WOW! Haha! Look at this place! You ripped it apart! That's so funny, Miguel is gonna lose his mind,] she exclaimed.

"Is he violent?" you ask, making your way towards the window.

[What? Of course not! Well, if you're wondering if you have anything to fear, then no,] she assures you.

"Oh good, I'm glad my kidnapper doesn't have violent tendencies," you retort. There was a time when you might have felt guilty about your attitude, but after everything that had happened, you couldn't care less.

[Would you like me to put on some music? I know what you like! I have a few playlists saved based on your—] she begins to suggest.

"How high up are we? Are you able to remove the blinds completely?" you inquire, glancing out the window as you test the strength of the metal blinds.

[y/n... Even if I opened those blinds, and even if you weren't several hundred feet above the ground (I do not have permission to disclose HQ information with you), and you could get out...] Lyla flicked to your side, her avatar looking at you with sympathetic eyes, or as close to it as she could manage.

[You're not in your own dimension. You're not even really in your own timeline; you're about an average human's lifetime ahead of your own timeline. Even if I let you out... you'd have nowhere to go], she gently explained, delivering the disheartening truth.

As the blinds peeled back loudly, the entire window was revealed, causing you to flinch instinctively. You turned your head quickly to see Miguel, the other Miguel, leaning against the doorframe with his hand sliding off a button.

Glancing outside, you watched the city before you, and the knot in your stomach grew. Everything looked futuristic, with cars soaring down below and buildings towering even taller than those back home.

Home...

The only thing that looked remotely similar to home were the large, over-the-top billboards littering the city. You were too high up to actually see the people walking down below, which did prove that Lyla hadn't been lying.

Lyla flicked over to Miguel, hovering above his shoulder, engaged in a quiet conversation with him. As you turned towards them, the growing tightness in your chest returned. Slowly, you walked away from the window, positioning yourself on the opposite side of him—more importantly, the opposite side of the door. Miguel casually observed you, and for the first time since you had seen his face, he wasn't frowning. You glanced at the open doorway behind him and then back at him, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible.

"Don't..." He casually warned, staring down at you.

Turning around, you began walking towards the kitchen, attempting to feign hunger by casually sliding your hand over your stomach. But as soon as you were near the door, your only plan was to get the hell out of there and away from him.

With a swift move, you tried to slip past him, but he reacted lightning-fast, grabbing your wrist and hoisting you up in the air. He forcefully pulled you backwards, leaving your toes barely touching the floor, before throwing you onto his couch.

"Enough already—" Miguel started to say, but he had to stop himself as you made another desperate attempt to dash past him. He pushed you down against the couch, one hand on your chest.

"Let me out of here! Send me home!" you hissed, trying to push him away, but his grip was firm.

"YOU ARE AN ANOMALY! If you go back there, your whole dimension will disappear, together with everything in it! Everyone you know, your friends, family, loved ones—everyone will die," Miguel explained, his hand keeping you in place as you stared up at him, breathing heavily, and eventually slumping back against the couch.

You didn't have the energy to question him further. You smacked his hand away from you, sitting up and leaning forward. Your arms rested on your knees, and you covered your face with your hands. The amount of information from unreliable sources was overwhelming, making your head spin and your stomach churn.

You fell backwards against the couch, silently staring out the window. For a brief, beautiful moment, your brain seemed to take pity on you and dissociated from reality, allowing you to watch the sun finally set and the darkness of the night slowly taking over. While Miguel occupied himself with some paperwork, speaking into his bracelet, and moving about his quarters, he eventually settled down across from you on the couch.

As you continued to gaze out the window, he watched you intently, about to say something when you interrupted him. "Is Miguel safe—my Miguel?"

He nodded silently, and you closed your eyes, letting out a breath. "I... I won't ever see him again, will I?" you asked, your eyes welling up with tears as you looked over at him.

"No," he answered quietly.

Closing your eyes, you felt tears streak down each cheek. "Why is this happening? Why—" you began, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

Miguel sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment of silence, he looked up at the spot above your head before his gaze settled on you, making it appear as though he almost looked down at you as he spoke.

"Every Spider-person's life is connected, woven together in this... beautiful web of life and destiny. It's called the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse," Miguel explained.

As you blinked in bewilderment, a look of pure confusion crossed your face. Miguel, looking annoyed, glanced away before sighing.

"Or... The Spiderverse, if that makes it easier," he muttered. "It's easier if we just—Ugh. Lyla, do the thing!"

[Huh? What thing?]

Miguel's stoic expression melted into one of confusion and borderline bewilderment. He shook his head, clearly perplexed, and turned to glance at Lyla, ‘’What- What do you mean ‘what thing?’ The information, explainy thing!’’

[Oh, okay!] Lyla responded.

As the blinds fall over the window again, you jump in your seat, and suddenly the room transforms from pitch black to a display of red laser-like shapes forming in front of you. The shapes resemble hundreds, if not thousands, of small webs, all interconnected. Each one takes the form of a small heptagon with tiny images inside, depicting various events. However, the images are too small to make out clearly, and Miguel mumbles something about it being easier to show in the "big room."

You lean forward, engrossed in his explanation. "These nodes," he points them out for you, "they're where the lines converge; they are the canon. Chapters that are a part of every Spider's story, every time." You watch as Miguel leans forward, his eyes shifting from one node to another as he speaks.

"Some good..." He looks over at another node. "Some bad..."

"Some very bad." He stops at the node in front of you, his gaze shifting up to meet yours.

"That's how the story's supposed to go. The canon events are the connections that bind our lives together," Miguel said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you. "But those connections can be broken. That's why anomalies..." He looked away from you, his expression turning bitter, "are so dangerous."

"In universes where versions of us meet and become... close, our relationship becomes a canon event, an event that always has and always will end with one of us dying. You weren't supposed to survive in your universe," he explained solemnly.

"Do I always... die at the same time?" you ask, your voice tinged with sadness and confusion.

"No. Sometimes you... we—" Miguel hesitates, searching for the right words, "Versions of us begin lives together. Some get married, some have children, and some... some die before even making it as far as you did," he says, bitterness evident in his voice.

"And now, because that story has changed, you have become an anomaly. Which means that if you return, your dimension will begin unraveling. And there is no stopping that," Miguel explains, his tone somber and resigned.

"What..." you say, distraught.

"It's what happens when you break the canon,"

"Then why... why am I alive? Why did you save me?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

"Because I... I found a way—a way to save you," he responds, his expression serious, but a hint of melancholic determination gleaming in his eyes, as if just speaking those words aloud was an act of defiance against some unfathomable force.

"How many other versions of me have you saved?" you ask, his gaze remaining on you for a moment before faltering, and he looks away, seemingly feeling ashamed.

"None. You are... you are the only one I could save," he admits.

You silently watch him, trying to process the weight of what he had just revealed, whether intentional or not.

"That's why you can't go back. If you break enough canons, we could lose..." He gestures, and you watch as nodes begin to crumble, causing the entire web to slowly disintegrate. "Everything."

"We...?" you question, seeking clarification.

Miguel let out a tired sigh, scooting forward and reaching for your hand. You flinched at his touch, and he looked up at you, his frown slowly softening as you held out your arm. He lifted your sleeve and showed you a small red spot, the mosquito bite you had gotten a few days ago.

"For you to survive, you..." He trailed off, his thumb running over the spot slowly. "There can only be one Spider-person in every dimension. If, for whatever reason, another person becomes one, then they also become an anomaly. At that point, one of the spider-people either dies, or the dimension itself collapses. Sometimes, it's both."

Your eyes meet as he holds onto your arm. "For you to survive, you had to become... an anomaly. Instead of you dying, you became an anomaly and then got removed from that dimension. Things change without tipping the scale, without breaking the canon."

"An anomaly... You turned me into a Spider-person?" you gasp.

Miguel silently watches you. "Not exactly... I injected you with—"

"Wait! So, Miguel could die? I mean, if there can only be one Spider-person, what if the universe or dimension or canon, or whatever it is, doesn't realize I'm gone? It could still kill him?!" you interrupt, your concern and anxiety evident in your voice.

[I have run hundreds of statistics, and so far, none show any dimensional rupture or damage. The canon has technically not been broken, only altered. The end results are still the same—only one Spider-man, only one of the two of you in the dimension.]

‘’This was just some test to you? You’re risking Miguel's life, my entire dimension because of what some AI calculated?!’’ You stand up abruptly, staring down at Miguel.

[Hey!] Lyla objects, clearly offended.

‘’As long as you don’t go back and interact with that dimension, it should be safe,’’ Miguel leans forward, looking up at you with a hint of a smile on his face. ‘’You were— are, a scientific miracle. A breakthrough never thought to be possible. However, if something does disrupt your dimension, it’s our job to try to fix it. We’re not always lucky, but—‘’

You leap over the small coffee table between the two of you, aiming for the collar of his suit. Miguel swiftly captures your wrists in his hands, holding you firmly in place as you glare down at him, tears welling in your eyes.

‘’You sick-‘’ you hiss, baring your teeth at him, your nails digging into his hands.

‘’y/n, you were going to die. If not you, then your Miguel would have. You can hate me as much as you want. I didn’t make the rules, you think I’d want this…?’’ Miguel's voice wavers slightly, his eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and desperation.

In that moment, the anger inside you clashes with a sudden wave of overwhelming sadness and helplessness. You struggle against his grip, but Miguel's hold remains steady, as if he's trying to protect you from yourself.

‘’You should have just let me die,’’ you glare at him, and he looks at you, his eyes widening in surprise, ‘’At least then my dimension, my Miguel would have been safe.’’

‘’I... couldn’t...’’ Miguel mumbles, staring into your eyes, his own welling up with emotion.

‘’Why?!’’ you ask with tearful eyes, glaring down at him, your heart heavy with frustration and grief.

He watches you silently for a moment, his expression pained, before his eyebrows knit together, and he pushes you back against the couch, releasing your wrists as you fall back. ‘’No more questions for today. Lyla, get her something to eat. I have a headache.’’

You continued objecting, ignoring Lyla's attempts to distract you with food recommendations and takeout options. Your mind was consumed by the weight of the revelations, and the internal struggle left you feeling torn apart. Miguel eventually left, locking the door behind him, leaving you alone to process everything that had been revealed.

Unable to find solace in the chaos of your thoughts, you finally dropped down against the couch, pulling your knees up into a fetal position. The tears welled up again, and you cried yourself to sleep, exhaustion and emotional turmoil taking its toll on your body and mind.

---

In the following days or weeks – time seemed hazy in this new dimension – you settled into a monotonous routine. Conversations were rare, especially with Miguel. Sleeping on the couch, facing away from the room, you woke each morning to find a comforting blanket placed over you. Emotions churned as you grappled with the reality of being an anomaly here. Memories of home and loved ones tugged at your heart, while uncertainty and vulnerability clouded your mind

As days passed in the unfamiliar dimension, you grew closer to Lyla. Despite your attempts to ignore her, she proved to be persistent and engaging. She spent time with you, sharing stories and anecdotes, breaking through your emotional barriers.

During a conversation, you discovered that she had been "observing" you for quite a while. While it felt like stalking to you, she insisted it was part of her duties. After a two-hour debate, you agreed to disagree.

Lyla's presence became a source of solace in the disorienting dimension. She became a friend, easing the burden of being stranded far from home. In this vast multiverse, her companionship reminded you of the need for friendship, someone to confine in, someone to speak to.

She reminded you of Gwen…

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imasimpforshanks · 1 year

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Hii! hope you're having a good day, can i request the fluff alphabet for Sanji, please? i just saw your post about it 🧐 thanks for everything, love ur works 💗💗💗

Sanji Fluff alphabet

a/n: thank you for requesting ❤️ and thank you for your kind words, it’s so sweet 😭😭😭😭 hope you enjoy<3

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

sanji will do anything and everything with you. farmers markets, cooking together, walks along the beach, reading next to one another… you name it. as long as it’s with you, sanji doesn’t care what it is you do together, because any time with you is time well spent.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

true to his character, sanji admires every single thing about you. every inch of you is beautiful in his eyes. he spends every morning whispering in your ear how beautiful you are (both inside and out).

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

sanji’s go to comforting technique is food. food makes everything better. if you’re feeling down, anxious or anything, food is the answer. however, he also tends to mix in lots of words of affirmation and physical affection.

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

marriage and kids are things he’s thought about doing with you since the minute he met you. sanji wants to live happily doing what he loves with the person he loves most in the world. that’s all that matters to him.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

naturally, sanji is very bold and loud, causing most people to think he’d be more dominant in a relationship. however, when it comes to your relationship, you are the one that runs it. whatever you say, goes. sanji will not argue; he is at your beck and call.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

sanji has one rule and that is to never, ever fight with you. sanji would rather have zoro cut his head off than ever dream of fighting with you. but, if an argument or disagreement is brewing sanji apologizes immediately and will do anything to make right the situation.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

sanji thanks you for being a part of his life and loving him, every day. he takes your fave in his hands and proudly states “thank you for helping me become the man i am today” before placing a kiss on your forehead. you helped him grow and change for the better and he will do everything in his power to show his appreciation.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

there isn’t a single thing in this world that sanji would ever hide from you, unless it is something that would endanger you. but, even then it takes every ounce of his self control to not let you know what’s going on. he hates having to lie to you; it eats him up inside.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

it’s no secret that sanji has a track record for being overly eccentric and flirty with all women, however, after meeting you, he changed. the flirting and heart eyes for anyone other than you, stopped. being with you has really allowed sanji to settle down.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

yes and no. sanji is well aware that you only have eyes for him. he’s actually really confident and secure in your relationship, because you both frequently remind each other. however, sanji’s jealously can rear its ugly head when you’re around people he doesn’t like, namely zoro. once the jealousy starts to surface he’ll get even clingier and more bold with his displays of affection.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

if there’s one thing about kissing sanji it’s that each and every kiss is so passionate and full of love; he sweeps you off your feet everytime.

but, it also smells and tastes like cigarettes. it was quite a shock during your first kiss to be hit with that much tobacco. if the cigarette scent and flavor isn’t your thing, sanji will do everything in his power (other than quitting) to get rid of it.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

sanji tells you very very early on into your relationship. he basically sings it out loud for everyone to hear. however, it takes a while for you to realize that he is actually in love with you and not just infatuated.

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

sanji is going to marry you. that much he is certain of. it’s something he’s known since meeting you. he wants nothing more than to tell the whole entire world that he is yours, and you are his.

sanji, being sanji, is going to have some absolutely grand romantic proposal planned that is perfectly tailored to your relationship. it’s going to make you remember just how much you love him.

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

he loves to call you every gooey, sweet, loving term of endearment in the book. but, his favourite is “my love.”

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

when sanji is in love, everyone knows it - including you. he’s not one to shy away from his feelings. he’ll tell it to you straight (or show it to you with food and romantic gestures).

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

sanji love love loves PDA. he would kiss you, hug you, spin you around, feed you and dance with you in front of the whole world if he could. he’s happy and willing to demonstrate just how much he loves you.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

it’s not random in the slightest, but with sanji you have your own personal chef. and you better believe it certainly has its benefits!

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

this man is perhaps the most romantic individual you will ever come across. flowers, candlelit dinners, sunset walks on the beach, having his undivided attention… anything you can think of, anything you want this man will do for you.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

for sanji, the second your relationship begins, your goals become his goals and vice verse. so really, he’s your biggest cheerleader! he believes in you and your goals 110%. more than that though, he is right next to you every step of the way; ready to lend you a hand the second you ask.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

sanji loves your relationship exactly as it is. he doesn’t feel the need to change anything. he’s definitely open to any ideas you have to spice up your relationship if you so desire.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

sanji knows you like the back of his hand. he can read you like a book and responds accordingly. you’ll never meet someone more understanding than him.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

your relationship is the most important thing in his life (and helping luffy become pirate king). everything else in his life comes in second. there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

when you can’t sleep sanji hums little lullabies to help put your mind at ease. sometimes he even makes up lullabies about how much he loves you.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

unsurprisingly, sanji is very affectionate. any chance he gets he’s showering you with love and affection whether it be compliments, kisses all over your face, hugs or cooking your favourite meal.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

sanji nearly drives himself insane when you’re away. when you’re not around it’s like a piece of him is missing. but to try and cope does all of your favourite things and cooks all of your favourite meals to make it feel like your still there. and then when it gets closer to your arrival date he’ll go around preparing everything on the ship to make sure it’s perfect for when you return.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

sanji would do literally anything for you. he would die for you and your relationship. all you need to do is say the words.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece alphabet #fluff alphabet #sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #straw hat pirates

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yuttikkele · 5 months

Text

do you guys think the omegaverse exists for werebeasts in the monster high universe?

yes that’s a really funny statement, but I’m taking it seriously in this post, so BEFORE we go any further: STOP thinking about omegaverse as a fetish. STOP thinking about it as a sexual thing. ABO has such interesting potential, so before I say anything else, I need everyone to be on the same page that it does NOT always involve sex. This post is NSFW FREE!! YOU HEAR ME!!! Especially since they’re CHILDREN!!!!

ahem. Anyways

It makes sense. It would be an interesting concept and sort of an add-on to separate werecreatures from other animal-inspired monsters.

anyways I have a bunch of headcanons about it under the cut. these are specifically for G3, but take them however you like! also, there’s a huge text wall under the cut, just so you know.

Clawdeen is an alpha. In every universe. She’s specifically the born leader alpha. She’s humble and is all “no, no, I can’t lead it’s not my thing,” but she seriously fits the role of leader like a glove. She’s also subconsciously wants to have control over every little thing, but she consciously knows that’s not how things work. She’s one of the more aggressive alphas, though she doesn’t notice and won’t admit it to herself.

Clawd is a beta. He’s. Just a dude. And he’s quite good at it. He’s very good at calming people (namely Clawdeen), and generally very mellow. He’s protective of his sister, obvi. That’s like a mix of older brother syndrome and beta-will-watch-over-the-pack-itis.

Howleen is also a beta. Howleen is one of the more aggressive betas. She knows her time is coming when Grandpa Romulus will get too old, and she’ll be leader of the pack. She likes to fight for the formality of the title, but she actually doesn’t mind Romulus being the leader. She’s very comfortable with it!

Romulus is an omega. Yes, he’s an omega, and everyone (at least all the werebeasts) knows it. He’s the leader of the pack, and he takes pride in that title. He’s very insecure about being an omega, so that’s why he fights for any ounce of dominance he can get. This does cause him to be a nuisance, though. It’s not that he minds being an omega; he just doesn’t want others to treat him differently, which is fair. The tough show is just so people don’t automatically think he’s weak. He does need to realize that all of his friends believe him, though, so he can stop being such a self-protecting bonehead now.

Barkimedes is an alpha. Some people find it odd that the werewolf pack has its omega as the first in command, beta as the second in command, and its alpha last as third in command, but Barkimedes likes it this way! He’s never really been one to tell others what to do. Lots of people are surprised that he’s even an alpha because of how much he’s bossed around. Well, those people are wrong because Barkimedes is the alpha that ever alpha’d (whatever that means…)! Barkimedes is more of the protective type. If he senses his friends are in danger, he would do literally anything. He is REALLY overprotective of the pack, and they probably never notice it (Example: You just barely insulted Romulus and Howleen. They’re telling you off while Barkimedes stands behind them with the most menacing look on his face. Romulus and Howleen look back at Barkimedes, and suddenly his face is as sweet as an angel. They turn back to you, and he is growling at you again). If he sees you messing with something his hindmind considers “his” (like his friends, or maybe his slice of pizza), he’ll go feral on you. However, he’ll never use his alpha “powers” (such as his alpha voice) unless it’s an emergency. He’s just chill like that.

Toralei is a beta. I was debating saying she’s an omega, but beta just makes more sense in my mind. No one knows she’s a beta. Everyone thinks she’s an alpha. She acts and tries VERY hard to present as an alpha for the validation. Her mom, Catarina, is an alpha. As she is a terrible mother, Catarina is an elitist and also a sexist. Catarina thinks that betas are no better than “useless” omegas. Possibly even more useless than omegas since they don’t do “anything special.” She was very disappointed when she found out that Toralei was a beta, despite that not being something Toralei can control. Toralei will sometimes make fun of Romulus being an omega, and she will always feel bad immediately after. She does take medicine that she really shouldn’t take so that she can mask and smell like an alpha. Whenever the topic of second sex comes up, Toralei tries to back out of the conversation as soon as possible. She really needs to be comfortable in her own body and stop caring what her mom thinks.

Purrsephone and Meowlody are either betas or omegas. I don’t know which one they’d be, but they’re definitely not alphas.

Mouscedes is an omega. I don’t know much about mousedes, but from what I can tell, she’s pretty dependent on others. She’s not ashamed of it either. Whatever works, queen!

Teez I have no clue. We really don’t know much about him yet. I have no idea what he could be.

Frankie conveniently has a werecreature hindmind researcher brainbit, so they spout random facts sometimes and occasionally can help out (depending on what they can conveniently recall)!

A lot of the other monsters don’t actually realize that werebeasts have a second gender. Clawdeen didn’t know at all until the pack told her, and it explained a lot about her sudden aggressiveness.

The second gender is also a second sex. It’s basically just like us separating gender and sex. The werebeasts just have another pair!

Werebeasts can find out what their “assigned second gender” is at birth, but a lot of parents decide not to worry about it. 1. It’s way simpler to use one’s first set of gender/sex. 2. The rest of the monster world isn’t even gonna care about your second set.

The second gender reveals itself on its own right when puberty starts. It’s usually the first sign of puberty in werebeasts.

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straykidsreactionsandscenarios · 1 year

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Stray Kids Scenario - You Have No Right ~ Christopher Bang

Post Date: 1st December Content: Angst/Fluff - Chan x Reader Word Count: 2.1K TW?: Best friends to lovers/ Mentions of a toxic relationship/ Mentions of abuse Summary: Being in a toxic relationship, you’re always in a constant battle. That is until Chan breaks you out of it, but not in the way you’d expect.

~ Scenario Mobile Masterlist Prompt List If you like my stuff and wanna tip, just buy me a coffee!

Prompts: 45 - “Please don’t cry” 118 - “Is this love?” 140 - “I’m not going to leave your side”

“Where are you going?” Your boyfriend asks you, bitterness on his tongue as you grab your bag, being stopped at the door by him putting his arm out, eyes on you like a hawk as he bites his tongue.

With a sigh, you pause though you really wanted to push past him and leave him for good. But how could you? You love him, why else would you be in a relationship with him? But you had to admit, the thought of leaving him comes often, more every day. You were tired of being shouted at, controlled, and belittled by the guy. It wasn’t love. It was past that, he was great at the beginning of the relationship but now? You couldn’t even go to sleep without crying to yourself as he scolds you for not even doing his laundry, raising a hand a few times at you.

Forcing a smile, you look at him, trying to hold back from shouting at him as you don’t want to drop to his level, “I’m going over to the boys’ flat, they’ve invited me over for pizza night. I shouldn’t be too long, I promise.” You hesitate to tell him, hands shaking with pure anxiety, that he would force you to stay home. He didn’t look pleased, to say the least.

“I don’t want you going,” He growls, going to grab your bag but you move quickly enough, out of reach of him. Looking him dead in the eye, you let yourself bite at him, “I’m going over, I haven’t seen them in ages. They’re my best friends, Han and Felix since childhood for goodness sake. You know this”.

With an ounce of confidence, you push past him, reaching for your keys as you go to walk out of the door, being stopped in your tracks when a hand is placed on your back. “I’m coming, can’t have anyone taking their chances on you,” His tone stayed the same, making you shiver as you smile and nod just to avoid the conflict. He knows they wouldn’t do anything to you, but he would not let you out of his sight, he always has to be with you to make sure that you’re not doing anything you shouldn’t.

Self-conscious, controlling, and manipulative, that’s what he was, and you couldn’t wait to find a way out when you could. Though the thought of leaving him scared you - wondering what length he would go to make sure you suffer even after cutting him off - you couldn’t cope another moment with him.

For the entire car ride, his hand’s glued to yours, his hand never leaves yours. If he wasn’t holding your hand, he has an arm around your shoulders or around your waist. Even when you’re walking up to their apartment, being let in. He’s always got his hand on you in some shape or form.

“Hey Y/N, I didn’t know you were going to bring Jake along?” Felix lets you in, smiling at you, and goes to give you a hug but Jake gets in the way, offering to shake his hand. Trying to think on the spot in a panic, you smile at Jake and then at Felix, “I thought it would be a good chance that you guys properly meet him since you haven’t yet”.

Felix already doesn’t like him, but smiles at him anyway, shaking his reached-out hand and directing you to the living room. There’s an uproar of cheering when the others see you, welcoming you in then there’s silence. Complete silence when Jake also comes into view. Felix instantly breaks the ice, taking a step in front of him to introduce him, rolling his eyes, and telepathically telling them that he doesn’t trust him at all.

“It’s nice to meet you! Y/N has talked so much about you!” Chan offers his hand to Jake, shaking hands with him as his throat burns with distaste, feeling like he’s been kicked in the stomach since you seemingly looked so happy with him.

Seeing you with Jake, Chan’s hopes of ever being with you crumble apart, his heart breaking into two. Wishing that it was him in the guy's place. Everyone else knew how much he loves you, and would do anything for you, and the fact that Felix already doesn’t approve, it just makes Chan angry, you deserve so much better. Though he has no clue about what’s going on behind closed doors, he can’t help but get an extremely bad vibe from the guy.

“We’ve ordered pizza, and don’t worry we’ve got your favourite,” Changbin sings as he does a little dance, holding the pizza place menu in his hands, “Why don’t you guys get comfortable?”.

With that, Jake pulls you to the two-seater, on purpose. Not wanting to let anyone else sit next to you, arm hanging around you as you force a smile, looking at Felix with pleading eyes. That gets broken off by the sudden kiss that Jake places on your lips, trying too quickly to get him to stop as you didn’t feel comfortable with the affection in front of your friends.

Whilst everyone's trying to make conversation, Chan slips into the kitchen to give himself a moment, ready to smash something but is stopped by Changbin who pulls his attention away from his overthinking mind. Changbin puts a gentle hand on his shoulder before tapping it lightly.

“I don’t like him either, okay? But she seems happy, so we have to be happy for her,” Changbin whispers, trying to be discreet about it but the way Felix walks in, shaking his head and sighing harshly, “What’s going on?”.

Felix closes the door behind him and then gets close to his older friends, worry in his eyes. “I’ve known her since childhood, she doesn’t seem right. She’s crying for him on the inside,” He tears up a little, the two pulling him in for a hug as Chan’s fists ball up, rage hitting him completely.

“Bro, don’t,” Felix pleads as he watches Chan’s face go red with anger, Changbin helps Felix to calm Chan down but that doesn’t last for long when they hear sobbing in the next room.

Chan’s the first one back in the living room, noticing you’re standing in the hallway out of view, but not unheard, sobbing into your hands, Jake getting all up in your face. Jake raises his voice. “So now you wanna act up? Embarrass yourself in front of your so-called friends?” The hissing in his voice makes you cry even more.

“They’re my friends! You didn’t need to get all stupidly possessive and kiss me every two seconds to show that I’m with you?!” Biting back, you roll your eyes as you knew that there was no point in arguing with him. Trying to walk back into the living room, Jake grabs your arm harshly and you yelp in pain, being caught by the boys who are all standing up, pure anger racing through their veins.

“We’re going home!” Jake tries to order as you go to obey, shaking your head as you go to grab your bag but get stopped by Chan, pulling you into a hug, Changbin, and Minho standing in front of you both.

Noticing how you fall into comfort in Chan’s arms, Jake shakes his head with a psychotic laugh, “Oh, so there was something going on here, huh?”. Changbin goes to get up in his face but Chan stops him, stepping in front as the others keep you in their little circle.

“No. There was never anything going on here, not until you made it an issue. Now you should leave,” Attempting to stay calm, Chan only gives him one chance, looking back at you to make sure that you’re okay.

“Or what?” Jake's ego gets to him, daring to take a step closer to you as Chan puts a hand on his chest to stop him, “You don’t want to know. But she’s done with you, you’re done. Ever try come near her again, you will regret it”.

Jake stands there, glaring down at Chan, reaching his hand out for you but Changbin and Minho stand in his way too. Felix and Han keep you by their side, holding your hand to help calm your nerves down and attend to you to make sure you were okay too.

“Is this love? Is this what you really call love? Treating your girlfriend terribly because you think you’re too perfect to actually treat her like a human being, like the love of your life?” Chan mumbles, directing his comment at Jake who’s seething, fists at ready to take a swing at chan.

“She’s nothing without me, she would never have anything without me. Why do you even care for her?” With his head directed at you, Jake’s eyes are glued on Chan, words also directed to him.

“I care because she’s everything. She’s everything a man could ever dream for, she’s what I dream for. She’s my everything. If you can’t show her how she’s supposed to be loved...” Chan pauses, looking over at you, wide-eyed as tear stream down your face, stars in his eyes when he looks at you. “Then I’ll show her if she gives me the chance”.

“Now you really should leave,” Minho adds, cracking his knuckles, and giving Jake an evil glare as he’s given no choice but to be forced out of the apartment, leaving you behind.

As soon as they hear the door slam, Chan rushes over to you, pulling you into a hug as you let all your emotions loose, crying into his chest as he only hugs you tighter. The others gave you the space that you needed, to talk - if you wanted to.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now, I’m not going to leave your side. I promise,” He whispers, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head as you slowly pull away. With his sleeve, he gently wipes away your tears, heartbreaking from seeing you so broken like this.

For a few moments, you sit there without a word being spoken. It was nice to be out from under Jake’s control and you’re able to breathe. Chan’s hands grasp onto yours as you tighten the grip, smiling at him. The moment you looked into Chan’s eyes, you realise how safe you were actually going to be, but you couldn’t shake what he said.

“What was that about? Me giving you the chance to show me how I’m supposed to be loved?” You ask slowly, shuffling closer to him as you lay your head on his shoulder. Chan giggles from nerves, not realizing that you would actually ask him as he panics that you would shoot him down - and rightfully so. But he didn’t want to blow any chance he could’ve had.

“I, uhm. I just wanted him to leave, I could see you weren’t happy with him,” He partially lies through his teeth, looking anywhere but at you. With the soft nudge of your hand on his face to look at you, you caress his cheek, “It’s okay Channie, tell me”.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, it broke me to see you with him. I wanted to be him, in his place to call you mine,” He stutters but manages to get his sentences out, smiling shyly at you, blushing when a bright smile appears on your face.

Kissing his cheek, you throw your arms around him, and his arms snake around your waist, pulling you in for a tight hug. Tears start to pool in your eyes again, sniffling on his shoulder, “Hey, please don’t cry,” he whispers softly.

“Thank you, thank you for saving me. I just wish I could’ve been with you instead of him. But now I need time, but I love you too,” You breathe heavily, trying to stifle your cries. You couldn’t be more grateful for him.

He understands you need time, and he’s more than willing to give it to you. He wants nothing more than for you to find yourself again. But you couldn’t deny, you’d give anything to be shown what love really feels like, what to be treated well feels like.

“Can we move slowly? I don’t want to jump straight into a relationship and ruin it between us?” You ask, and he nods instantly, smiling as he tries his best to hold back cheering for himself. “I want to enjoy this,” You add, laying on him as you already feel like you're at home. Chan’s heart races out of his chest as he peppers your head with kisses, “Anything for you, anything at all”.

#stray kids #stray kids blog #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagines bang chan #stray kids fluff #stray kids soft hours #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #christopher bang #chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff

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fizzyxcustard · 4 months

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Personal Post (and apologies)

I'm going to post some personal feelings and thoughts here, so if you're not interested in that, then please skip.

First off, I want to apologise to anyone I've offended. Now, you might be wondering why I'm starting off with that statement of apology. The truth is that I've had a very bad couple of years mentally, and I'm not using this as an excuse for any bad/negative behaviour, but more for you to maybe understand my thought patterns. I know that I've come off as toxic to some people; I stand up and admit to that. I have. My behaviour has no doubt been hard to deal with, and because of this, I've lost friends. And it's mainly to those people I wish to apologise. Whether they'll actually see this post or not, I don't know, but I hope they will. And that goes for anyone else that I may have upset without realising. This post is calling myself out.

A lot of my negative behaviour has come from very destructive thought patterns, which revolve around never feeling good enough and not fitting in. I play the comparison game constantly, and to the point that I sometimes dread coming online to Tumblr. Because I know my mind will begin to churn and tell me that I'm not a good enough person, I'm not funny enough, talented enough...just not good enough in any way at all. And it's because of this that I've pushed people away from me because of the fear of rejection through my own comparisons to other people. These thoughts have even affected the way I see myself with my family, so it's not just online friends. It's in almost everything I do.

I wouldn't normally post anything this personal on Facebook, but on Tumblr I feel that my anonymity helps me to remain a bit more shadowed from criticism and harsh words. I can only think of a couple of people from Tumblr who I've met in person.

So this post is me apologising to anyone I've ever hurt, been cold with, been standoffish with, been snappy with. Again, I know that this isn't an excuse for negative behaviour and toxicity, but I'm trying to change my ways. Whenever I feel that wave of anxiety rip through me because the negative comments in my brain are becoming so loud, I now take a step back to recalibrate. I'm consciously giving my rational mind more room to step in and take control. I'll admit that it's fucking hard, but I am trying with every last ounce of my being to become a better person.

For a while I considered leaving Tumblr, but that would mean stepping away from doing the very thing I love, which is writing and sharing with you. But the need for external validation to feed my ego and turn down the deafening volume of the negative voice was getting too much. My rational mind has had to take the reins again and fight to be heard over all the commotion of self doubt. For some time I've even developed people-pleasing ways which has later led to resentment, and again, negative outbursts.

I know I need to work on this cripplingly low self-esteem, build myself up and also be completely authentic and not people please. Don't get me wrong, I do try and be as generous and kind as I can, but sometimes it's wound up compromising my own state of mind, and I must try and work on this, too.

This post is me being open, raw and vulnerable. All I can do is apologise again, and whatever comes of this post, I will accept gladly.

I hope I can usher in a time of more confidence, more happiness, and maybe more friendships which are unburdened by my negativity.

If you've made it this far, well done, and thanks for coming to my TedTalk. :) <3

#personal post #fizzyxcustard #personal insight #anxiety #negativity #negative mind sets

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themirokai · 11 months

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For my new followers: I’ve been watching Person of Interest really slowly and posting reactions to each episode with gifs. Check out the tag #miro does poi if you’d like to see more. Or, ya know, blacklist it.

POI 03x23: Deus Ex Machina

I thought some parts of this episode worked and some did not. Gonna do some big overarching thoughts, then call out some specific moments.

I generally liked Collier as a villain. Some of that is an affinity for Leslie Odom Jr., but as I said in a prior post I also really like villains who have a point but take it too far. And I thought Odom played him really really well. The guy is crazy charismatic and brought every ounce of that to bear in this role.

So I felt a bit let down by the trial as culmination of his arc. It’s just… kind of dumb? Like did they actually believe that doing this show trial at gun point - of two political operatives and three people no one knew - was going to … what? Convince people to rise up against the government and demand greater privacy rights? Or was it to make themselves feel better about killing the people responsible for Northern Lights? It just seems pretty half-baked for a character who I felt had been previously set up to be intelligent and driven.

And I didn’t really like the reveal that Greer had been pulling the strings the whole time. It made sense for the broader Samaritan plot but it undermined everything about Collier. I think I would have preferred if they just had Decima influence how the trial went rather than have them be responsible for the entire Vigilance movement.

The trial did create the set up for Harold to be self-sacrificing. Again. Still. Some more.

So much of Harold’s actions throughout the series seem to be motivated by guilt. Actually, remorse is probably more accurate. He only thinks he’s important in terms of what he can do for others. BRB my heart is breaking.

Another thing that got my wheels turning was this part with Control where she gives her experience on 9/11 as her motivation for undertaking the surveillance program, and I’m interested in how that reads to younger people and people who aren’t American.

I was 17 on 9/11 and it isn’t much of an exaggeration to say that you could feel the country change in real time. Control’s story of having the rest of her life motivated by that day isn’t at all rare. I know several people who signed up for the military on 9/12 or shortly thereafter.

Probably most of the people using this site weren’t even born on 9/11 and I wonder if Control’s story comes off as contrived or manipulative to you. I know that for me, I do feel the remove of 22 years. I know that 9/11 jokes and memes are pretty common now. But I don’t think that was the case when this aired. I think we were still too close to it then, and Control probably came off as sympathetic or at least doing the wrong thing for the right reason. I’m not sure this part of the show has aged well. But also Camryn Manheim’s performance is fantastic.

I find it super interesting that when I try to use gif search, the majority of gifs that come up, and the first ones, are ALL Shoot. I’m not sure if that’s because there’s just more of them or if Shoot fans tag their stuff differently or what. I didn’t embed any here because this was getting lengthy, but this scene was great, they have excellent chemistry, and I generally love how their dynamic is developing.

Fusco’s arrival was fantastic because I’m always happy when he shows up but also Root … apparently sent a message on??? with??? Bear? We’re not going to interrogate the mechanics of how Root got Bear out of the library while she was going after Samaritan but I was very glad Bear was there too.

Also! Fusco still doesn’t know about the Machine!!! 🤦🏻‍♀️

Oh look, Hersh ends up being great and I’m kind of attached to him now. Of course he’s dead at the end.

Let’s talk about the Rinchiness. As always, we have John’s single-minded determination to get Harold back for the majority of the episode.

But then there is this oh so gentle and affectionate scene that I suspect lives in every Rincher’s heart.

Sigh.

And the ending. Goddamn the ending was gutting. RIP Library.

That’s a wrap on season 3! Thanks for sticking with me, y’all. Reminder that my ask box is open if you want to share your thoughts!

#miro does poi #fewer gifs because this got so long #poi 03x23: deus ex machina #person of interest #irrelevants #rinch #long post

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gumsnail682 · 7 months

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Part 1 of my Obey me Yandere series for spooky month. Cross posted on my AO3.

Lucifer, The Isolating type

The Isolating type is pretty self-explanatory, the Yandere will go to great lengths to ensure the one they love will stay close to them whether they want to or not.

"Hey, Luci? I can't help but notice I haven't seen any of your brothers in the past two days. Did they go somewhere?" Lucifer seemed a little startled by your question but quickly recovered.

"As you know me and my brothers are very important demons, something came up and they went to take care of it. I wasn't able to join them seeing as I have too much work to do here, not to mention I also have to take care of you. The issue is quite dangerous so I don't want you going outside except for the garden. I can't allow you to put yourself in danger as you often do." He spoke so fluidly as if he hadn't just come up with that lie on the spot.

"Oh, I see. Thanks for looking out for me, I just wish you told me sooner I was getting really worried." When you left his room he couldn't help the smirk that crawled onto his face.

"Oh my dear, you're all mine now, not even Diavolo can save you now." He chuckled darkly to himself.

You sat out in the garden looking up at the sky, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and that's what confused you. If something bad was happening that would cause you to need to stay inside wouldn't you be able to see or hear something? But no, it was just silence, peaceful, calm silence and it unnerved you to no end.

Then you made the mistake of trying to leave, you opened the gate to the garden but were met with a barrier that kept you trapped inside. "What the-"

"Didn't I tell you it was dangerous out there?" You nearly jumped out of your skin and took a step back only to be met with Lucifer's chest.

"Lucifer!" You gasped. He shook his head in disappointment before speaking again, "I didn't want to have to do this but I'm putting you under house arrest." He grabbed your wrist with more force than intended.

"Ow! Lucifer you're hurting me!" He ignored you and dragged you into the house. It was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to throw you into the attic where he once kept Belphegor trapped.

How badly he wanted to ensure you never left, he wanted to cage you and make sure you could never abandon him. He wasn't going to jump the gun and trap you in the attic, not unless you gave him a reason to.

And eventually, you did.

It had been nearly a month and you knew something was up. No matter what you did your messages and calls never went through unless it was to Lucifer.

No matter what you tried you couldn't get a hold of anyone and you connected the dots.

There was never any danger, Lucifer was trying to keep you isolated here in the house of Lamentation. When the revelation hit you you felt weak in the knees, a sense of doom overwhelmed you and nearly brought you to tears.

How could you possibly escape such a powerful and smart demon? Even though it seemed hopeless, you were going to try.

You were going to try even if it killed you.

You waited till you knew Lucifer would be asleep, sometimes he would go days without but you knew eventually he'd need to rest.

You observed his sleeping patterns, every fourth day he would allow himself a full night's rest, Wednesday and Saturday were your only chances.

It was Saturday when you put your plan into action, you waited patiently outside Lucifer's room, waiting to hear his faint and quiet snores.

Once you were sure he was asleep you made your way to the front door, it didn't matter where you left from because Lucifer had put a barrier on every exit of the house. The thing that would help you escape was something Solomon had given you a few months prior.

It was something that could make temporary holes in protective barriers such as the one Lucifer put up. You took a deep breath before opening the door and using the device, as soon as you could you booked it, sprinting as fast as your legs could go, not looking back for even a moment.

Lucifer felt it, he felt a part of his barrier break and knew you had found a way out. Lucifer was tired, too tired to have any patience with you at the present moment.

He was out of the house in an instant, you had managed to get a good distance away but were no match for the speed of a demon. Lucifer pounced on you, pinning your arms behind your back.

"Lucifer stop, it hurts! Somebody help me!" You pleaded but Lucifer covered your mouth with his hand. "Didn't I tell you it's dangerous out here!?" He was seething, how dare you try to leave! You opened your mouth and bit down on his hand hard hard enough to make him draw back. "The only one putting me in danger is YOU!"

*CRACK*

Lucifer practically snapped your arm in half, the pain was so sudden, so blinding you couldn't even manage to scream, only gasping loudly as your whole body froze.

It hurt, it hurt so bad you couldn't even form coherent thoughts. "Now look what you made me do!? To think you'd be foolish enough to attempt this when I've had so little rest and my patience is practically gone!" You wept as Lucifer pulled you to your feet, holding you close to him.

You were back in the house of Lamentation before you could blink. Tears rolled down your face and sobs wrecked your body as Lucifer threw you into the Attic room.

"Don't you dare move! I'll be back with something to fix your arm." He hissed before closing the door behind him with a loud slam you knew you couldn't leave even if you tried.

You held your broken arm and sobbed, now you were really trapped with no possibility of escape.

Lucifer came back with bandages and a portion, "Now I could just fix it but as punishment, you'll have to wait for it to heal naturally. However, I will aid in this process considering I was the one that lost control, give me your arm." He demanded, when you flinched away he just grabbed your arm before snapping the bone back into place with another sickening crack!

Loud cries escaped your throat as Lucifer worked, when he was done he shoved the mouth of the potion bottle into your mouth and made you drink.

"This will relieve most of the pain." He seemed angry at you for being in pain and helpless. Once that was over you couldn't help but worry about the others, had Lucifer done something to them?

"Where are your brothers? What did you do to them!?" You demanded. Lucifer shook his head and reached into your pocket to grab the device you used to escape.

"I didn't do anything to them. I simply sent them away on a month-long vacation, they should be coming home next Friday." You felt sick but also a flicker of hope.

"You'll never get away with this! They won't let this happen." You said more to yourself than him.

"Oh, but I already have. You see everyone else, including Diavolo, thinks you're dead." You felt your entire world fall apart.

"...What…?" Seeing the look of helplessness on your face made him smile.

"I faked your death, why else would they accept to go somewhere for an entire month without you? It did take some convincing but obviously, I was able to get them to agree." All hope you had was gone, Lucifer had won.

You were the attics new prisoner but this time there wasn't even a slight chance for someone to rescue you.

"I'll bring you everything you need so don't worry about that. But remember, if you try to escape again there will be dire consequences." Then he left, leaving you completely alone.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #yandere #spooky month yandere shorts

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

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(unofficial submission for sirius and harry saturday. this was in my drafts, wrote it a few weeks ago, not my fav but idk, maybe someone else will enjoy it-- re: career counseling.)

When Sirius brought it up fifth year, he received nothing but a massive eye roll. Thunder in the clouds, rumbling of the Earth status eye roll, followed by a scowl and a grumble of something unkind under his breath.

Sirius had intended it to be question, and not the beginning of an argument, but as it turns out--as he had been learning for the past two years since Harry had come to live with him--teenagers were excellent at turning questions into World Wars.

Hows your room look? was a personal attack.

Did you have a nice day? was invasive.

Given any thought to career counseling? was the end of the fucking world, land-mines erupting in the kitchen, as Harry dropped a plate into the sink, ceramic clattering angrily.

"Didn't catch that, love," Sirius offered, putting a hand on Remus's arm when his husband made to open his mouth to tell Harry to watch his attitude.

"I said, mind your own business," Harry repeated without an ounce of shame or reluctance, staring deliberately at the two of them.

"Unfortunately, you are the only business I have to mind. Top priority," Sirius responded easily, and Harrys frown deepened, clearly annoyed as he hung around the perimeter of the kitchen, debating whether he should leave mid-conversation, or go sit back down and risk a shouting match. If anything, Sirius could be proud for that. Something about teaching a kid to pick the battle correctly.

"It's not like it matters," Harry said, "I'm the Chosen One or whatever, it doesn't matter what I do because I just have to do that and then...I dunno. It doesn't matter. Does it?"

Sirius made it a point not to lie to his godson, even if it was for his benefit, with the amount of adults these days seeming content to talk around Harry. Even if it meant Molly Weasley was permanently cross with him or Albus Dumbledore sighed every time Sirius and him had a conversation. Which was often. The sighing and the conversing and Sirius standing in Dumbledores office trying to control his own temper.

Sirius cleared his throat, "We're figuring this out, Harry."

"Yeah well...maybe send me post when you do or whatever and then I'll think about a career. Assuming I'm not dead, you know."

Next to him, Remus deflated like a balloon, as Harry walked out of the kitchen, his husband's head coming to rest on the table in utter desperation.

"Guess...well...just table this conversation..." Sirius said slowly, as he thought about Harry's words. Sirius remembered taking his exams and feeling the pressure from his parents to do well. His self-esteem and self-worth tied up in the last remaining way his parents might be proud of him. It was overwhelming and hard enough, and Harry was dealing with pressure from the entire Wizarding World.

Harry was smart. Harry had a natural talent. But Sirius had also seen Harry's marks--the lack of careful studying over the years catching up slowly, despite Sirius's efforts to get him to focus. It was hard to focus when a Dark Wizard was around every corner threatening your life, invading your mind, toying with your future. "...Can you re-take OWLs?"

Remus snorted, "Send me post when you decide to broach that topic with him. I'll plan a long vacation and be a continent over."

"Sure thing."

Dust had settled. All was well. NEWT year was approaching, and after a summer of much needed rest and restoration, and the heartiest meals Sirius could manage, Harry was finally in a place where Sirius felt comfortable sending him back to school.

Scar hurting? No.

Sleeping alright? Yes with happy dreams now too, Harry relaying to Sirius one morning that he dreamt about owning a puppy.

Whispers? Only Remus's when he fell asleep on the couch.

So, is now a good time to bring up career counseling?

Harry's face immediately darkened, despite the golden sunlight he was basking in, the two of them in the backyard of Number 12. He had warned Remus of the conversation, as requested, Remus opting to stay indoors and on stand-by with a very firm, The discussion was a courtesy not a choice, you will study this year, so help me Harry James Potter.

"Well, you just ruined a perfectly good day..." Harry muttered, immediately sitting up to start picking at the grass.

"Can I salvage it with a promise of dessert later?"

"You always have dessert."

"Mm...mid...night flying?"

"Really? Like midnight proper?" Harry asked, meeting Sirius's gaze with piqued interest. Harry might have been of age, but Sirius had been quite firm about a bedtime over the summer (and Harry hardly protested about it, almost-excitedly using his curfew and bedtime as a reason to leave gatherings early with his friends, and retreat home to a place that was quiet and stable and didn't give two cares if he was the chosen one). Harry only cared on good flying days.

"Is today a good day for it?"

"Maybe."

"Then maybe, midnight proper."

Harry huffed, "Fine."

"Then?"

"No. I haven't. Was I supposed to think about career counseling before or during figuring out Voldemorts soul was in my body?"

"After, really," Sirius said carefully, "I know this may be a bit...rich coming from me, but you cannot just rely on your Name for the rest of your life, Harry. And besides that, I don't think relying on that is going to make you happy."

"Someone suggested I become an Auror..."

"Of course they did..." muttered Sirius, "What do you think?"

"I told you I don't know. I haven't thought about it, and now you're making me," he said bitterly, sticking his index finger into a damp patch of grass and flicking up dirt. Sirius inhaled deeply, sitting up himself and resisting the urge to pull Harry's hands out of the ground and scrub his hands clean. Sirius also resisted the urge to point out all the things that he had made Harry do over the past few years that were for his benefit.

I told you so was not the theme for this conversation.

"I'm not asking you to know Harry. I'm asking you to have an opinion, and I know you have that."

"My opinion is that I want to just have one normal school year with my friends...can't I figure the rest out later or something?"

"So you'll just do well in all your NEWT subjects then? You won't focus on any particular class, and just...Exceed Expectations in all of them?"

"I dunno."

"Babe...I think it might be time to start thinking about school a bit more. About...what you like, what you want for yourself....what's going to make you happy."

"I like being here. That makes me happy."

"That won't change."

Harry's eyebrows knitted together, "What did you want? When you were in seventh year?"

"I wanted to stay at home and watch your parents kids all day and live off my inheritance," Sirius teased with a light smile, "Half-true. The other half....didn't really know and felt a bit lost. With my parents it was always so simple in a way because I knew I would just go into managing the family accounts and going into politics like my father...but your grandmother asked me what I just asked you and....I didn't have an answer either."

"Then why are you asking me?"

"Because it made me think, and...I never ended up doing anything with it, but I realized I liked Arithmancy quite a bit. Considered going into Healing...but never did. Got to watch you instead."

"You're happy?"

"Without a doubt," Sirius told him, catching green eyes in his own, "So...I ask you again, what do you like?"

"Quidditch."

"Hm."

"Snogging...." Harry said jokingly, and finally pulled his fingers out of the dirt again, Sirius wincing as he wiped the residue on the thigh of his jeans, "I...I do actually like Defense Against the Dark Arts. I think it's interesting. I dunno anything else besides that."

"Then...we start there. Baby steps."

#sirius and harry saturday #nonsense dribble #NO CONCLUSION NO NOTHING #gourmet garbage

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ichigopanhpff · 9 months

Text

When We Were Young

I'd been sitting on this one for a while. Honestly, I'm still feeling uneasy about this one, but I will post nonetheless!

I noticed a lot of first times are written with rose-tinted glasses on, which isn't bad. But I feel it sets an unrealistic expectation, like you have to make your partner(s) orgasm several times or something. And if you did/have, that's amazing. And of course, everyone's experience is different.

What I noticed some writers don't cover is how awkward it can be. Yes, it can be romantic and sensual, but many steps had to be taken to get to that point. Solid communication need to be established. It's important to talk with your partner(s) about your likes, dislikes and what you're comfortable giving consent to.

Consent is key. You've heard and read this many times, but I cannot stress how important this is. It lays the groundwork for trust and intimate connection. Not only are you trusting them with your physical body, you're entrusting them with your emotions and sensations to create a safe space to feel good with everyone involved.

I say everyone because a relationship is not always just between two people and I want to reflect that.

Enough with the PSA; let's get right to it! This one-shot takes place in the final timeline of TokyoRev and I've done my best to keep it spoiler free. Mitsuya and (Y/N) are 18-19. Some characters/events tie in with "Begin Again."

---

It’s been nearly four years since Mitsuya and (Y/N) started dating.

What started out as a young and blossoming teenage love had now fully grown into a maturing and decadent flower.

They’ve seen through each others best and worst times, through Toman and their conflicts with Black Dragon and Tenjiku, every fist fight, hospital visit, last minute school assignments, and the rush of reckless youth; they were beside each other hand in hand.

Taking their relationship to the next level was something they kept an open conversation about; if they were honest with themselves, their raging hormones did not make this easy.

Were it not for Mitsuya’s promise to Jun, this would’ve happened a long time ago.

A very long time ago.

They started out slow with exploring each other’s bodies and reading articles in lifestyle magazines on their own time; they wanted to learn each other’s pleasure points, memorize every divot and curve, taste every inch of skin, ingrain the sound of their voice when aroused. Their warm, lingering touches on each other left them craving more every time.

When they tried oral, it was… not how the stories made it out to be in the magazines.

Mitsuya couldn’t find the balance between licking, sucking, and fingering. He couldn't find her clitoris and got close to it a few times, thinking that was it when he heard her voice change; he's also lost count the amount of times she yelped in pain from him trying to push his finger inside her too early when he thought she was wet enough; it was from his saliva, not her. The only thing he found in the end was a spot that made (Y/N) ticklish where she had to push him off because she was laughing too hard.

(Y/N) was too shy and not confident enough to try it because “it’s where your pee comes from” and opted to try a hand job instead; poor boy thought his girlfriend was going to rip it off with how hard she gripped and how fast she did it. Never in his life had he felt that raw and took nearly 3 days to recover. His loins felt like he had terrible rug burn.

Despite the open dialogue and experimentation, they were both still too embarrassed to be fully nude in front of each other.

There were nights where Mitsuya found himself mindlessly sketching out lingerie designs for his girlfriend to wear, some of which hardly left anything to the imagination. His face stained tomato red and had half a mind to rip it out of his sketchbook and throw it away. The lilac haired boy had to use every ounce of his self-control; his sisters were sleeping on the other side of the partition curtain. Safe to say, he hid that particular sketchbook way out of reach from his nosy siblings.

And there were times where (Y/N) found her mind wandering to what positions her boyfriend would put her in while pumping himself inside her. Feeling hot and bothered from her running imagination, she’d use her fingers to satiate her lust; though her boyfriend’s would probably feel much better if he didn’t try to rush it half the time.

They were caught in the middle of a downpour during their date one autumn day and took shelter under a random awning of a shop; unfortunately, the convenience store sold out of umbrellas from the early birds. Already soaked to the bone, the two made a break for it when the storm lightened up and made their way to her apartment. After shaking off their drenched jackets and brushing their respective locks from excess water, the two entered shuddering violently from the cold rain.

“Wait here,” (Y/N) instructed with audible shivers she tried suppressing in her throat. “I’ll get you a towel.”

Sliding open the storage closet by the bathroom, she pulled out a fresh set and threw a small one at her boyfriend to dry off before coming in. Revealing his lanky and toned torso after peeling his black oversized t-shirt off, she hastily grabbed the half soaked garment and wrung it out the best she could before hanging it up to dry in the bathroom. Mitsuya stepped in not long after and hugged her from behind to warm her trembling body.

“You’re shaking,” he mumbled in her ear, feeling his body quivering from the cold still. The warmth of his breath sent a different kind of senses down the nerves of her skin. “Wanna take a bath together?”

“You first,” she suggested. “I’ll take one after.”

“But it’ll save time and water,” he suggested with a small whine before pressing a warm, open mouth kiss on her cold neck while moving the wet, matted strands of hair out of the way. She leaned into the sensation and let out a small breath from her nose.

“As nice as that sounds…” she gasped out and turned to face him. “I doubt we’ll be doing much bathing.”

“I’m not seeing the problem here,” he lowly chuckled in his throat, his lavender gaze slightly darkened.

She gave him a nice, long kiss and pulled back before Mitsuya could do any more. Playfully biting on her bottom lip, she pushed herself off and took her damp top off to hang dry, revealing her bra to him before walking out of the bathroom.

“Really?” he huffed from frustration with his arms out in his half-excited state. “You’re gonna leave me hanging like this?”

“Yup.”

Releasing a dejected sigh, the lilac haired boy got to disrobing and hung the rest of his soaked clothing up before turning the shower head on to warm himself up and wash the cold off his skin. Emerging a few minutes later, he wrapped his lower half with a towel and found a dry set of his clothes on the floor; she cleverly disguised the reason as ‘something for her to have in case of weather emergencies’ when she just wanted to wear his clothes. Switching off, (Y/N) jumped in and let out a huge sigh of relief the moment the warm water hit her frozen body.

“I’ve revived,” she drawled contently, exiting the bath wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and entered her bedroom, where Mitsuya was splayed out flipping through one of her photography magazines. The sound of calm, steady rain fall could be heard from her closed window, the pattering of drops clacking loudly on the tin roof from one floor up.

“So that’s where that shirt went,” he looked up from the magazine with an amused smirk.

“It… conveniently made its way into my drawer,” she playfully fibbed and batted her eyelashes.

“Right…” Mitsuya drawled and rolled his eyes. “Like those three in your drawer there?”

“If you didn’t want me stealing your shirts, then don’t make ‘em so comfortable to wear.”

“I actually bought those, y’know,” he pointed out.

She faced him and put her hands on her hips. “It’s really your fault, Taka. I can’t sleep in anything other than your clothes anymore.”

“Really?” he mused with a cocked brow and a matching smirk.

“Your scent calms me,” she pouted and hid her blushing face by opening the closet. She took out her futon for the two of them to lay on. Even though their date was ruined by the rain, they could at least be cozy together.

Smoothing out the plush mattress, she patted it as an invitation for her boyfriend to join her. Lazily smiling with his signature half-lidded gaze, he closed the magazine and crawled to her side. Loosely wrapping his arms around her frame, she unfolded the blanket and draped it across their legs. She let out a content sigh and leaned her head into the lilac haired boy’s torso, feeling his body warmth envelop her with his cuddles.

“I’d say this makes up for the rain, yeah?” He kissed her cheek and nuzzled into the crook of her neck, making her chuckle.

“I think so.” She faced her boyfriend with a grin before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaned in to share lips. “How do you do it?” she softly asked.

“Do… what?” he asked with a quizzical look.

“How do you make it so easy for me to love you?” She pecked him on the lips and played with a few stray strands of his shoulder length lilac hair; he decided to grow it out after Toman disbanded. “You’ve spoiled me rotten for anyone else.”

“Are you implying there’ll be others?” he inquired with half-seriousness, making her softly laugh.

“I’d like to see them try prying me away from you.”

“Damn right. ‘Cus you’re all mine.”

Pulling her onto his lap, (Y/N) straddled her legs around Mitsuya’s waist. Threading his digits into her locks, he sighed into their kiss and deepened it by running the tip of his tongue on her lower lip. Their wet muscles openly danced as his hands roamed around her exposed thighs found themselves at the hem of her oversized shirt. Slowly pulling it off of her, he cast the top aside and gently traced every inch of her back with a shaky breath. His eyes drunk in the masterpiece sitting on top of him.

“Gorgeous…” he whispered and pressed a kiss on her collar bone and moved up to the crevice of her neck. She let out a soft moan and cradled his head gently, stroking his soft lilac strands around her fingers. His hands gently caressed her back and found them at her bra clasp; she felt him clumsily fumble with it and let out a small giggle.

“Need some help there?”

“… Yes.”

Giving him an endearing smile and a chaste kiss, (Y/N) got off of his lap and turned to show her back to him, revealing the two row hooks and demonstrated how they work together.

“There’s some that’s three rows, even four,” she explained. “But those are usually for larger chest sizes that need more support.”

“Those gotta be a pain to take off…” he noted.

“They’re a bigger pain to put on.”

Mitsuya reached out and gently unclasped her bra and softly ran his fingertips down the small of her back, sending goosebumps up her skin and arched up as an audible shudder escaped her. Pulling himself in, he peppered kisses along her lotus tattoo and proceeded to slip his fingers under her bra strap to remove it off her shoulders. (Y/N) immediately covered her chest with her arms, feeling exposed. His arms snaked around her waist and moved his hands up to gently knead the fleshy mounds, eliciting a soft moan and whimper from her. Her boyfriend let out a throaty groan and open mouth kissed her neck, sucking harshly on the skin and leaving red marks on her right shoulder. His index and thumb found her cold, pebbled nipples, giving it a firm pinch; she let out a small whimper and felt something thick and hard start to poke the back of her thigh.

“I want to see you,” he whispered on the shell of her ear.

Shyly turning around, her body trembled with nervousness as she let her arms down, revealing her plump breasts for Mitsuya to see. Her nipples were hard and excited from his previous touches mixed with the chill in the air from the rain. His soft, lavender gaze went dark and felt himself twitch as he sucked in a breath.

“So beautiful…” he whispered. Snaking his left arm around her waist, he pulled her into a searing kiss before gently laying her down on the futon and laced both his hands with hers as he hovered above. Slowly releasing, he looked into her eyes with love.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t feel ready…” His left hand came up and softly caressed her cheek and kissed the top of her head.

“I am. Just…” Her right hand reached up and placed it on top of his. “Go slow, okay?”

Silently nodding, he took his t-shirt off, revealing his lithe and toned body. (Y/N)’s hands slowly trailed up, feeling each divot of his muscles on his stomach as he hummed with approval. He reached down and removed his shorts, revealing a very obvious protruding member in his black boxer briefs. Her eyes gradually widened with surprise.

“… Will that fit?” she haplessly blurted out and blushed, unconsciously clenching her legs together. Mitsuya snickered while she covered her face, reeling from humiliation.

“We’ll have to find out…” he chuckled and leaned back down to her lips after gently pushing her hands off her face. The lilac haired boy wedged his knee between her legs, feeling the pooling warmth from her panties. Mitsuya let out a throaty groan and trailed his lips down from her neck to latch onto her left nipple. (Y/N) softly gasped the moment she felt his tongue flick on the hardened bud and sucked on it; his left hand fondled her other breast, pinching it every now and then before switching off. She threaded her fingers into the strands of lavender, encouraging her boyfriend for more through soft sighs and hitched breaths, his name leaving her lips in tiny whimpers. His large right hand trailed down her side and languidly rubbed her inner thigh, trying to gain access her growing want.

She let out a surprised gasp and sighed when she felt the tips of two of his fingers slowly rub her clothed slit up and down. For some reason, she felt wetter than usual as her body naturally reacted to each of his tender caresses. Mitsuya released his lips from her nipple with a soft pop and focused his attention to her now drenched panties. Hooking his fingers on the sides to remove it, (Y/N)’s hands jolted up and grabbed his wrists in a fit of panic.

Was this really happening? Right now?

“Y-You first…” she meekly stuttered out as an attempt to stall.

Letting out a light sigh through his nose, he smiled at his girlfriend with understanding. He moved his hands to the waistband of his boxers instead and slowly pulled it down, freeing his now extremely erect cock hitting his stomach; his breath hitched from the sudden chill hitting his hot skin. The tip glistened with his pre-cum; a protruding vein ran up his shaft. He was lengthy with a good amount of girth.

“This… This is me,” he shyly murmured with a tint of pink blooming on his cheeks.

Unconsciously reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his length and gave it a light jerk, earning a soft, breathy moan from him. Unlike his hands, (Y/N)’s were soft and felt like he was melting into her touch with every languid stroke; she’s learned to go soft and slow after the last time. How many nights had he imagined her doing this to him instead of his own whenever his mind was clouded with lust? His hand immediately grabbed her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Sweetheart…” He swallowed hard and seethed at her touch, his deep gaze glossed over with desire. “As good as that feels, I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

“Is that all it takes?” she joked.

“With the way I am now, yes,” he confessed. “Besides…” He used his body weight and pushed (Y/N) back down, slipping his hand under her panties and took it off in one go, making her softly yelp in shock. “It’s your turn.”

The moment he did, she quickly clamped her legs shut, embarrassed by how turned on she was.

“Come on, love. Don’t be unfair…” he softly cooed out and rubbed soothing circles on her quaking thighs and trailed light kisses on it. He rested the side of his head on the outside of her right leg with puppy dog eyes. “I wanna see all of you.”

Hesitantly coming around, she relaxed and allowed her boyfriend’s hand to stroke across the expanse of her left leg to fully open them up. His deep lavender gaze stared down at her moistened folds with the warmth of need radiating from it. The tips of his left fingers teasingly trailed up to the inner parts of her thigh, making her whimper and muscles tighten. He let out a long, elated sigh the moment he made contact and gently stroked her labia with his middle and index fingers.

(Y/N) sharply inhaled and let out a broken, high-pitched squeal, squeezing her eyes closed. Her head tilted away while feeling her boyfriend’s fingers explore her most intimate spot, letting out shallow breaths as she tried her best to stifle her voice; the apples of her cheeks burning fiery hot. Mitsuya laid down beside her, feeling his stiff cock poke her from behind.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he encouraged with a soft, baritone bass in his voice. “I wanna hear how good you feel.”

He peppered kisses down the back of her neck before sucking on that one spot that made her weak. Squelching sounds sharply bounced off the walls of her room as she breathlessly moaned his name. Mitsuya successfully found her clit and slowly rubbed it, making her breath hitch and body jolt from the sudden sharp, foreign sensation. His other arm slipped around her shoulder and fondled her left breast.

“So wet for me…” he praised and hissed from how excited his girlfriend was. Feeling her relax, he slowly slipped his middle finger inside her and gave a few test thrusts. He groaned at how her muscles tightly wrapped around his digit and pulsated in satiny warmth. (Y/N) felt her pelvis bucking into his touch and lightly rocked into his finger as lust and stray tears covered her eyes. His thumb found its way to her clit and flicked it in rhythm to his finger pumping in and out of her hole. Letting out a sharp gasp, her muscles tense up as she felt something hot build inside of her.

“Taka…” she whimpered, feeling her body get hotter and wetter. Her face flushed as she gasped for air while he continued. “I-It feels weird…”

“I read it’s supposed to make you feel really good…” he panted as he continued thrusting and rubbing in rhythm, feeling her insides clench tighter around him. “Let me make you feel good…”

She found her breath hitching in her throat as her back arched, her voice let out a strangled moan the moment she felt the tightly wound thread inside her snap. Mitsuya hummed with approval and languidly kissed her neck, sucking more dark spots on it as her pulsating muscles convulse around his drenched finger from her very first orgasm.

“Taka…” she whispered with moaning pants and broken cries while he slowed his strokes, her lower half still shaking and jerking from her release. “I wanna make you feel good too.”

Steadily removing his nectar-coated fingers with a squelch, Mitsuya brought it up to his lips and tasted how sweet she was. After licking his digits clean, he pulled her chin to him and let her taste herself on his tongue. Releasing in a daze, she stumbled to sit back up and pulled one of her mini desk drawers open to take out a condom they bought ahead of time.

“Nervous?” she asked with a quaking smile.

“Y-Yeah…”

“Me too.”

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked again for confirmation as he took the wrapped contraceptive from her; she softly nodded in confirmation.

“Taka, I’ve always been yours.” She kissed him tenderly and released, her stare darkened with carnal ardor and adoration. “There’s no one else I’d do this with.”

His heart leapt into his throat, enveloping his emotions in her words; he needed to show how much he loved and needed her now. Ripping the foil, he rolled the condom over his length, lightly hissing at the cold sensation of the lubricant touching his hot skin. Positioning themselves in missionary, the two stared into each other’s souls, their hearts pounding fast in their chest as their limbs shook nervously.

(Y/N) reached up to pull him down to capture his lips to relax. He rubbed the head on her slick folds; the two times he tried pushing into her, the tip popped back up from it being too slippery and nerves. She readjusted herself on the bottom and he successfully entered, letting out a long gasp as the head of his cock bullied its way in her. She gritted her teeth from the pressure and mewled.

“Hngh, so tight…” he grunted between breaths with his whole body shaking as he pushed in little by little. “Try to relax…”

“Easy for you to say…” she squeaked out, feeling herself stretch to Mitsuya. It was overwhelming and felt like she was being split in two. Her legs trembled as her hands vice gripped onto his shoulder blades like her life depended on it, her nails digging into his skin. Hot, crocodile tears streaked down her cheeks the moment she felt him bottom out, letting out a dry sob the moment she felt something pop inside. The pain was sharp and barely tolerable as she felt her thigh muscles squeeze and shake. They looked at each other, letting out light, shaky breaths from being connected body and soul for the very first time.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” her lover consoled and wiped away the stray tears that stained her cheeks, peppering light kisses on her face. “You’re… so soft inside,” he moaned and rested his forehead on top of hers. His hands found solace on the sides of her head. “I feel like I’m gonna melt in you.”

“Don’t say something embarrassing like that while you’re in me!” she huffed out with reddened cheeks, still trying to breathe through the pain; he merely let out a breathless chuckle.

He clumsily crashed his lips on hers, completely drunk on the sensation of her body; his long lilac hair matted onto his now clammy skin, feeling his body heat rise from the new found erotic sensation of being forever connected to the love of his life. He did his best to stay still while his girlfriend adjusted to him. Gingerly shifting her legs to wrap around his hips, she gave him a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I think…” she swallowed thickly and sighed. “It’s okay for you to move now.”

Her boyfriend looked down to pull out a little and did a few shallow test thrusts before putting some more strength into it and softly moaned from feeling her clamp down on him with every move.

“Feels good… You feel so good… So hot,” he gasped out before capturing her lips with his again. Swallowing each other’s moans, her legs twitched while he plunged into her oasis sloppily.

Her breathing became erratic, gasping out his name through broken moans and felt something inside her break with a hot sensation. (Y/N)’s boyfriend stilled his hips as her stifled cries and throbbing velvety walls clenched around him. He watched her face contort between pain and pleasure as her back rounded from what he was doing to her, trying his best not to come on the spot.

“Taka…” she slurred out, feeling the contact high with blurry eyes and reached up to cup his face with her hands.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked with worry.

She slowly shook her head and flashed him a soft, convincing smile. “You can go a little… harder…” she bashfully muttered.

“… Are you saying this ‘cus you want this or for my sake?”

(Y/N) softly stroked his cheek with the pads of her thumbs and whispered, “I want it and I want all of you, Taka. You don’t have to hold back.”

As if under a spell, he dove down and fervently kissed her, the tips their tongues openly dancing as he started thrusting inside her again with vigor, their foreheads touching. His muscular arms tightly held onto her while hers wrapped around his shoulder while one of her hands weaved into his damp locks, lightly pulling on it from his rapture.

“More…” she moaned. “Deeper, love.”

Mitsuya thrust his full length into her with soft, guttural grunts and pants, the snap of his hips making the lewd, sticky sounds of their juices audible between their sounds of pleasure. Unable to hold back anymore, his hands gripped her hips as he sped up, the wet slapping of their skin getting louder and louder as her muscles clenched around his length. Uttering her name out like a prayer while chasing his release, his body stuttered and choked back a soft grunt as he climaxed, feeling her squeeze every drop out. Screwing his eyes close, he felt his warm seed exit in spurts and pool at the tip of his cock inside. The two caught their breath as her boyfriend gingerly reopened his eyes in a half-lidded state, dazed from his orgasm. Slowly pulling out, he hissed at the feeling of leaving her warmth, revealing the amount he came in the contraceptive. Carefully rolling it off of his now softening member, he tied it before wrapping it in a tissue to dispose of it later. Grabbing a few more sheets, he cleaned himself off before tending to his girlfriend.

She let out a light groan and turned to her side, feeling the soreness between her legs and panting. A light sheen of sweat covered their skin both from their lovemaking. Mitsuya gently pulled (Y/N) into a deep embrace, feeling her soft, supple flesh on his. The patters of the rain softened up from the downpour before.

“Was I too rough?” he asked with a look of concern, seeing her wince from discomfort when she readjusted her body for a better position to cuddle in. He rubbed soothing circles on her thigh as a way to alleviate her aches. She shook her head.

“You were fine,” she reassured and leaned into him to lazily kissed her boyfriend while smiling into it. “I read the pain’s common after.”

“Would a warm bath help?”

“It depends: are you joining?”

“If you’re inviting…” her boyfriend replied with a light chuckle and brought her left hand to his lips, kissing the ring on her left ring finger he gave her glimmering in the dimly lit bedroom.

“Don’t think we’ll get much bathing done,” she laughed.

“Again, I fail to see the problem here.”

Before they could continue their banter, the sound of jingling keys could be heard from the door. The two looked at each other with widened eyes, their breaths hitched in their throats from anxiety. (Y/N) glanced at the calendar on her desk and that sense of dread dropped into the pits of her stomach.

Her dad was coming home after 2 months.

And today was that day.

Oh. Crap.

#tokyo revengers #takashi mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #takashi mitsuya x !fem reader #tokrev #toman #tokyo revengers fanfic #tokrev fanfic

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littleperilstories · 1 year

Text

The Prince of Thieves: A Cruel Twist of Fate Has Brought Us Together Again

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Fantasy-esque prison setting, blood, aftermath of flogging, mention of attempted sexual assault, mention of death/execution, lady whump

Fun fact! This chapter has its origins in Whumptober Day 11 ( sloppy bandages, self-done first aid) and Day 13 ("Are you here to break me out?"), but literally none of the prompts survived the revival process.

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Word count: 2366 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

A Cruel Twist of Fate Has Brought Us Together Again

Teaser: Noise cracks the silence—a door screeching open, voices and clanking chains, scuffling footsteps and curses. I blink. A ragged breath catches in my chest. They’re dragging someone in. A girl—that girl.

Will

Wakefulness is not my friend.

How… How did I get here? My memory is hazy. Why does everything hurt like hell?

I’m lying on my stomach—not how I would normally sleep. Who in their right mind would press their bare face into the grime that passes for a floor in here? Trying to move, though, reminds me exactly why I’m lying face-down in muck.

Fifteen lashes with the cat. Hatchett’s voice, as stony and cruel in my memory as it is in life, sends a chill down my spine. How could I have forgotten the moment he sentenced me to yet more pain, every ounce of his barely contained wrath trained precisely on me?

My feet ache from being hit, but not in the same way that my back screams in agony. Hatchett was probably right when he predicted I would walk away from the whipping post after the first round—in pain, sure, but not incapacitated.

He’d have been right, that is, if I hadn’t set myself for the second part.

God, what was I thinking? Tears burn my eyes as I make another feeble attempt to move. Tracking the memories backwards is a struggle when the only thought I can conjure is, This hurts this hurts this hurts this hurts so fucking much. But I have to concentrate, try to remember. I…I was angry. Really pissed off. Why? Aside, of course, from having every eye on me while they flung me around like a sack of potatoes and let Michaelson hit me as hard as he wanted—

A scream, shrill and tearful, cuts through the fog in my mind. “Stop it!”

Fuck. The girl. That’s what it was.

When her gasp first caught my attention, and she was staring at me with more than just pity and horror, as if she recognized me somehow, I had no idea who she was. I remember thinking at the time, though, that it was a relief to see someone looking at me with something other than disdain.

But I do remember who she is. It’s come back to me now. She’s the same runner I met in that alley two years ago, the night I tried to walk home with a gash in my side and would probably have bled or frozen to death if Jamie and Colette hadn’t found me.

The memories are flowing freely now, too fast, out of control. Then—Colette’s worried face, Jamie’s terror manifesting as anger, that sick fucker trying to take something that did not belong to him, that girl’s fingers on my skin, her staring up half-dazed and teary-eyed as she tried to wipe the blood from my face. As she tried to offer some semblance of comfort to me, after what she’d just been through, while her own hands still trembled.

Today—Hatchett glaring down at me, so many eyes watching me being beaten, her tears, her cry to stop the whipping, the crack in her voice as our esteemed constable made her count to the last stroke.

Fuck.

Fury boils through me again, but my body won’t move, can’t move, and with no way out, it simmers down again to quietly churning anger. The bastards can do what they want to me. I know what fate awaits me, what I have chosen by refusing to talk.

But some girl from the line of prisoners, obviously distraught and trying to be kind…

Grunting, I try again to pull myself to a sitting position, to no avail. Deep breaths—one, two. Goddamn, I think my entire body might be on fire.

I vaguely remember now, coming back here. I don’t think I was fully out, but I don’t think I was fully in, either. Distant voices, pain blooming all over me, the medic grumbling… Yes, Gysborne, that slimy bastard. Said it was time for his midday meal and he’d come back around later to check my back if he remembered to. He’s still pissed off about the escape attempt and the enormous bruise I left on his ugly face. Seems I’ll be paying for it for a while yet.

Wonderful. The cuts on my back where the whip split the skin… Going to be raging with infection in no time.

The torch in the wall taunts me with its weak imitation of the sun, and a dark laugh rises weakly inside my chest. Wasn’t I wishing to be back outside and see the sky? Isn’t that part of what prompted me to run? Guess I got my wish. Turns out it wasn’t worth it. At all.

I need to move. Lying like this keeps pressure off my back, which is fine, but my still-healing shoulder is taking too much of my weight, and now it hurts, too.

When I’m finally sitting up, muscles shaking and sweat stinging my eyes, I glance down at my shoulder. Wet darkness has seeped into the bandage. Bleeding again. When the hell did that happen?

So much for healing well…the whole reason Hatchett was allowed to go through with my punishment in the first place.

The spectre of infection haunts me again. Maybe Gysborne just won’t come back at all—I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s almost a happy thought. If fever gets into my blood, rages through me like a storm, then I won’t even have to face the gallows. Wouldn’t that piss Hatchett off? If after all his efforts to keep me here until I spill every last IA secret, I died because his dumb fucking medic couldn’t do his job properly?

Sitting up is uncomfortable, but I don’t have much of a choice between my weeping shoulder and my shrieking back. I can feel every sizzling cut and how they, disturbed by the shift from lying down to sitting, ooze sluggish trickles down my skin.

Noise cracks the silence—a door screeching open, voices and clanking chains, scuffling footsteps and curses. I blink.

A ragged breath catches in my chest. They’re dragging someone in. A girl—that girl. She’s struggling against their grips, the pale cotton of her dress blinding against the dark blue of their uniforms. Nothing she does will dislodge their hold, of course, but the colourful words she’s spitting at Hatchett make her displeasure very clear. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so awful.

She’s still in chains when they stop, although Hatchett is kind enough to unlock the ones on her wrists before he shoves her into the cell next to mine.

“Until we speak again, Miss Cooper.” The smarmy voice makes bile rise in my throat.

The firelight casts a positively feral look across her features, but Hatchett is unfazed—already slamming the door and locking it.

His gaze flicks over to me, just for an instant, and when he sees that I’m awake and upright, his lip curls. Until we speak again, thief.

As he and the guards retreat and the far door closes, darkness reigns once more, leaving me and the girl alone in silence and frail, flickering light.

Miss Cooper. Just like Ezra, Hatchett knows her name. Unlike Ezra, he’s locked her up instead of killing her.

She presses a hand against her mouth, stifling a quiet sob. It strikes me she probably doesn’t know that I’m even here.

I’m about to speak, to say something innocuous like “Hello,” but when I attempt to inch a little closer to her cell, the chain on my ankles makes a scraping rattle across the floor, and the movement sends a wave of pain through my back so intense that instead of forming words, I just groan.

She jumps, startled, and then gasps.

“You’re…”

It’s difficult to know what is supposed to finish that sentence. You’re…alive? Awake? That moron who got humiliated in front of everyone today? One of the inner circle? The man from that night? A complete and total idiot?

Confusion slashes across her face, furrowing her brows and parting her pale lips. She must be cold. “I—Why did you…” Her words cut off again. “Are you all right?”

She’s asked me that before, and I’ve asked her. My side, still bearing a faint scar where that man sliced into the skin and Geoff neatly stitched me back up, twinges at the memory. “Uh… I’ve been better.”

She moves closer to the bars that separate us, her shackles dragging on the floor. “You didn’t have to— I’m sorry— It’s my—” She pauses and sucks in a deep breath. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

Her unbruised, unblemished skin is stark against the darkness that surrounds us. Hatchett didn’t hang her like that other runner, and it doesn’t look like he beat her, either. Which is good, of course, but it begs the question… Why?

I don’t know what to say to something like I’m sorry they hurt you. They’ve been hurting me. They’re going to continue hurting me. It’s easier to change the subject. “Did he question you?”

She nods, glancing away as if I won’t notice the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I had nothing to give him. And I told him that.” She wraps her arms around her knees. “He’s going to hang me, isn’t he?”

I swallow. I don’t know how to answer that, either. Silence sits between us until she, too, changes topics.

“Does it…hurt a lot?” The girl doesn’t sob at the prospect of her impending death. Not right now, not in front of me, anyway. She just angles her head and uses her shoulder to wipe the tears that sneak out. Real subtle. “Your…your back? Your feet?”

I let out a shallow laugh. “Oh, my feet are fine.” An exaggeration, maybe, but it’s mostly true. “Not that different from getting whacked on the hand at school.”

She winces. Perhaps she has never felt the sting of a strap or a ruler on her skin. “Did that happen a lot?”

The question with its all-too-obvious answer—yes, almost every day—makes me laugh again, which makes me move, which makes me hurt.

“Your back, though.” Her voice is solemn. She must hear the way my laugh collapses into a grunt of pain. “Can I see?”

I really, really don’t want to turn around. “I can’t move that much.”

“Please,” she says. “Let me look at it.”

For reasons I can’t articulate or understand, I do.

Dragging myself across the cell is nothing short of agony. The bandaged arm doesn’t take much weight. The chained ankles don’t give me much freedom. The bleeding back howls with such pain that my vision swims a little.

I rest my head on my knees when I’m finally close enough that she can examine my battered back. There’s no way I should be so tired from inching across this tiny cell, but I’m dizzy. “Is it bad?”

She hums an affirmation, gentle with an undertone of worry and more than a little horror. “He…he did that.” Almost dazed.

“Yeah. He’s a crazy motherfucker. Are you surprised?”

Her answer drifts through the bars, a whisper. “No.”

Now that I’m sitting this way, I’m stuck here, too tired to move and face her again. I wonder if I should speak, but the cell is still rocking. I keep my head pressed against my knees.

“I know you won’t remember, but…” I certainly don’t need to worry about keeping the conversation flowing. She’s got it covered. “We’ve met before. I— We— It was you. You—”

“No, I remember. I know.” It’s a relief that I don’t have to be the one to bring up that horrible night.

“You do?”

“Yes.” Wind whipping through the narrow backstreets, a cry tearing through the air. “It was snowing. You were in the alley, wearing trousers.” Oh my god, what made me say that part? I think maybe I’ve been punched a few too many times now. “That man…”

“You saved my life.” Her voice cracks. “And I never thanked you properly.”

Really? I want to ask. That’s your big worry right now? Immediately, guilt worms into me. If she’s going to die, if we both are, perhaps clearing unfinished business isn’t the most unreasonable thing to prioritize. “I’m sure you did. But you don’t need to—”

“I didn’t—well, I guess I perhaps did, but I was distraught and probably not making sense and frightened and crying and…”

Lifting my head and looking at her would probably be the right thing to do. I can’t. “Are you… Are you telling me you’ve been worrying about that for nearly two years? That you were upset because something…upsetting…happened?”

“Well—”

“Listen.” I know I shouldn’t be so short with her. But it’s so hard, too hard, to collect my thoughts into the right words and my words into the right tone. All I really want is to stop hurting, and that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Or ever. “I just did what any good person would do.”

She waits, leaves a long pause before she answers. “Good people,” she says softly. “I… I haven’t met many of those.”

Something inside me shudders, breaking through the haze of pain. What the hell has this girl’s life been like?

Jamie and Colette and Geoff, Dad and Ma. Our landlord, from back when Jamie and I were kids, who hated my guts because I was loud and obnoxious but was still kind when he needed to be. Every person who ever caught on that we had money when we should’ve had none and kept their mouths shut and didn’t turn us in. The runners who risk their lives and freedom to steal for IA, all to make life a little better for folks they’ll never meet.

All good people.

There are plenty out there, I want to say. Just not…in here.

I hold my tongue. What point is there in asking questions, prying into her business, or insisting that she’s wrong? After all, I don’t know what kind of life brought her here. Maybe, I think, she doesn’t have anyone like Jamie or Colette or Geoff to give her hope. Maybe, ridiculous as it sounds, this girl has not been as lucky as me.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

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