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tmblrcolouredpaper · 6 months

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Sleepy scenarios with TXT: habits, routines and rituals that occur when you share a bed with them (fluff)

5 scenarios, member x reader

wc (in total): 2691

no warnings

Yeonjun

Refuses to use individual blankets and pillows

One blanket, one pillow

You're freezing? Blanket is not big enough to comfortably lay next to each other? Yeonjun takes up the pillow, so his chest is the only free space for your head to rest? Well, you gotta cuddle the whole night then.

You tuck him in each evening, making sure he has more of the blanket and Yeonjun loooooves it, letting you do this task while having the biggest grin on his face.

You keep complaining about it, but end up giving in to the forced cuddles, because do you want to freeze? No! Do you want to sleep without Yeonjun to have your own blanket? NO!?

Yeonjun always makes sure you sleep first regardless of how tired he might be.

He caresses your arm up and down, gently has his hand on your back or lets his fingers slowly wander over your face.

You end up turning away and taking up all the blanket with one move. That's when Yeonjun knows he can fall asleep now too.

Holds you close and sometimes feels you pulling the blanket back over him in the middle of the night.

It's intuitive how you always end up in his arms with both of you covered by the blanket again.

You basically sleep half on top of him and the one who sleeps longer wins the blanket in the morning.

It's Yeonjun's favorite game. You hate it, but love it.

'Is it raining again?', you asked, refusing to pull the blanket away from your face to look outside the window yourself.

'Yep', Yeonjun chirped and pulled the curtains aside even further with an overdramatic and energized stretch of his arms.

He welcomed the grey weather, heavy clouds imitating the thick blanket on his bed that he couldn't feel covering him most times throughout the night.

He looked back to where you were lying and smiled. This was his favorite part of each day he experienced with you.

'You stole the blanket again', he sighed with the smile still plastering his face.

'I keep telling you to use two blankets when two people sleep in this bed, but -', you mumbled into the singular pillow on the bed, until you felt Yeonjun dropping down on you.

'You just have to tuck me in better', he laughed and clang onto you like a koala on top of a branch.

'I'll tie a rope around you and this stupid blanket', you groaned and tried to wiggle free.

Yeonjun only allowed that process only go as far as your face being visible.

'Look who is ready to face the day', he hummed and kissed the tip of your nose.

Soobin

Wants to see you in his clothes.

Gets too excited to have you with him in these late hours AND the early hours.

Throws a pile of shirts and hoodies on top of you to let you pick what you want to wear.

One shirt, one hoodie, but then also another hoodie that you can cuddle.

He doesn't necessarily need physical contact the whole time. He's happily at peace with your close presence, but he doesn't want you to feel any sort of distance despite remaining a more comfortable sleeping position. Solution: You wrapped up in his belongings and holding onto the soft fabric with his scent as well.

Cuddles in the morning are a must tho.

He'll wear the hoodie you cuddled when the cold morning arrives and lets you wake up in his arms when you're comfortable with such closeness.

'Where is it?', Soobin mumbled half asleep, freezing in the dark and quiet room.

His hand dived through the layers of sheets. His blanket, your blanket, the layers of clothes that embraced you... Somewhere there should have been the grey hoodie he gave you in the evening before going to bed. However, he couldn't find it, too dark to to see and too messy to feel the right cloth.

Frustrated, he let his head fall back against his pillow and he sighed tiredly, feeling too cold to fall back asleep yet too lazy to get up and get another hoodie. Besides, he wanted THIS specific hoodie that must be somewhen around you.

You turned and rolled over, closer to Soobin's side of the bed and he immediately let his hand wanter into the direction he expected your shoulder to be to adjust the blanket. Unfortunately, he took the wrong direction and he hit your chin clumsily. He quickly pulle away and mumbled a shocked excuse.

'S'biiin', you whined half asleep and groaned into the blanket.

'Sorry', he repeated and pulled his own blanket further over his body, getting a sense of hiding in his embarrassment.

You moved again, big movements, freeing your arm and swinging something through the air. It landed on Soobin's face and engulfed him with your sleepy warmth.

'Y'owe me m'ning cuddles', you mumbled and pushed yourself against him, but pushed your arms back under the blanket.

Soobin giggled and proceeded to put on the warm hoodie, finally arriving in the state of comfortable morning.

He pulled you in your blanket wrap closer and felt you resting your head on his chest with a big sigh, making him smile like an idiot.

'Sleep', you demanded and instinctive he listened to your command and closed his eyes.

It was warm and when he sensed you moving again, adjusting your position to mold into him a bit more, a few seconds later feeling your fingers playing with is hair, Soobin was starting into the new day perfectly relaxed and well rested.

Beomgyu

You're his pillow, you're his bed

It doesn't matter where you are, on the train, on the floor, actually in bed, he will rest somehow on top of you

He doesn't even think about it, but once he gets tired, he gravitates towards you.

At the same time, he holds your hand when you get tired.

Let's you play with his fingers until you drift away.

He would literally invent an own morse code system with you, so when he's awake and you're too sleepy to talk to him verbally, you'd still be able to respond to him.

It makes him feel like your guardian at the boarder from awake to dream land.

The one who ends up tired first gets royal treatment.

If you're both tired at the same time, he'd lean against you with his hand close to you, so you can just take it when you need or want to.

The train got emptier and emptier with each stop, yet Beomgyu and you still had some way to go. The moon seemed to follow you and whenever you looked outside, a different cloud was decorating the stone in space. Beomgyu's head was leaning against your shoulder and his closed eyes exposed his luxurious dark eyelashes. He looked adorable and your focus shifted from moon to him, back and forth until you yourself got overwhelmed by a wave of tiredness. You combed his hair with your fingers, a gentle attempt to wake him. He stirred and sat up. Only one glance was enough for him to register your demeanor.

'Your turn', he whispered and his hand found yours and feeling his warmth immediately brought you closer to sleep.

'Set an alarm', you mumbled and took your scarf from your neck to adjust it over his and your legs like a blanket.

'When do we have to get off', he asked and a big yawn escaped his lips when he opened the alarm app, his eyes getting teary.

You took his phone and set the alarm to 10:53 pm, ten minutes before you were supposed to arrive. Beomgyu wiped his eyes and his head landed back against your shoulder. He grabbed your arm and linked it with his own, intertwining your fingers in the process, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

'Just sleep a bit', he mumbled and caressed you felt him tracing your palm with his thumb until sleep finally numbed you.

When the alarm rang, you woke up properly first. Panic occupying your body in no time. You shook Beomgyu away and buried yourself gathering your belongings. The train stopped almost on time at your final destination and you got off, with bags in your hand and Beomgyu still clinging onto your arm, ready to let his head drop against go despite asking through the city.

'Fall asleep in bed, not now!', you granted and felt one bag falling out of your grip.

'We're not dreaming?', he asked and laughed, taking the bags with one and your hand with his other hand, now guiding you home.

Finally in bed that night, Beomgyu asked:'We dream together, right? I always try to follow you to your dream land when you fall asleep first. I always try to find you'.

You hand fount its way into his hair and he buried his face closer the crock of your neck.

'Don't have to try finding me. I'm always there whether you see me or not'.

Taehyun

He's not playing when it comes to sleep.

Practical and organized routine.

Fresh sheets? Check. Water bottle on each side of bed? Check. Phones charging? Che- You forgot your charger and have no battery left? He gives you his phone to watch something or read and charges your phone on his side that while.

Cuddles you to get a sight on the screen as well, but snatches the phone away after thirty minutes and plugs it in.

Refuses on giving you your phone back, because you shouldn't stare at the screen last thing at night.

Literally fights you when you try to reach it. Tickles you, pins you down, laughs with you until you both are out of breath.

Only then, knowing you end the day with a sprinkle of happiness, he switches off the light.

Gives you your phone back in the dark, but you're doomed if he sees that screen shining.

If your head is full and you think you need your phone to distract yourself, he'll cuddle you. He's your distraction and your focus.

'Please just shut your phone', Taehyun whined for the third time this night.

He tried just not facing you, pulling the blanket completely over him, dear, he even built a pillow wall to shut off the light of the phone screen. It didn't work. He might not have seen the light, but he could still sense your whole demeanor, focus on your phone and not even slightly on sleep... or him.

'No', you cried out and he saw the light finally getting off.

'I was in the middle of this Webtoon chapter', you explained and Taehyun finally decided to break the blockade towards you, taking the pillows away and robbed closer towards you.

'Hey', you said in shock when he snatched your phone out of your hand.

'Just charging it', he explained and plugged it in on and placed it on his bedside table.

'Here', he announced and gave you his phone instead.

'It better be a good chapter, because I wanna read with you'.

He watched you opening the app and typing some things in the search bar and to your surprise the correct title popped up immediately.

'It's your account, silly', Taehyun laughed and cuddled closer to you, positioning himself so that he can see the screen.

He read with you, silently. From time to time, he glanced up and studied your face. Once your eyelids wee so heavy you obviously fought not to fall asleep every second, Taehyun repeated his action and took the phone away from you. You demonstrated with a weak 'hey', but in no time you already held onto your own phone again.

'No screen anymore, okay? You need to sleep', Taehyun whispers softly and maneuvered your arm to your own bedside table to signal you to finally put your phone down for the night.

'Can we cuddle?', you asked lowly and felt Taeyhun pulling you closer, embracing you in his warmth and with his attention on you, sleep was not avoidable anymore.

Taehyun felt you breathing in his arms in a calm rhythm. He got a bit thirsty and reached to his side next to the table where he found his water bottle that you prepared for him even before he arrived at home. The luxury of being able to go to bed with everything already perfectly prepared gave him the sense of just sleeping, but he liked to remind himself of his priority that was you and your comfort.

Kai

Other than Soobin, cuddles YOUR hoodie or dresses one of his plushies in one of your shirts when you're not there.

Stays close to you before switching of the lights. A hand on your stomach, a leg thrown over you or you cuddled into him.

Lights off and position for sleep adjusting, you don't sleep right away. You talk. About everything and nothing.

The more sleep-drunk you get the more abstract will the topics end up being.

For instance, you start talking about Pokemon in general and end up designing a whole 'Day in my Life as Mawile'.

You guys have no idea at what point you fell asleep, trying to follow memory line to the last plot point.

Waking up is messy. Blanket messy, pillows everywhere, plushies between and around you, despite them usually chilling aside, away enough to not come in your way.

Sleepy cuddles in the mess of warmth and softness.

Tidying up together, arranging the whole bed setup as a morning ritual.

'This is new', you laughed and pointed at the moiling plushie that was wearing your cropped shirt, regular size on the fluffy creature.

'Oh. OH! Yeah', Kai slightly panicked and suppressed the urge to throw Molang into another room to hide this attire.

'You know I was already wondering where this shirt went?', you teased him, well aware of his embarrassment.

'Oh, sorry, you can have it back', he spoke quickly, making you laugh and hug him.

'It suits Molang way better anyway'.

Kai pulled the blanket over you both when you lied down and his hand instinctively found its way to rest on your stomach, minimalistically rubbing circles over the fabric of the hoodie you were wearing.

You both lied there, facing the ceiling and letting the lights of the passing by cars flicker over the walls. The ticking of a clock is audible and it was a weird atmosphere of quietness and irritating noisiness.

'So', you started and Kai immediately turned to his side, facing you and robbing himself up by pushing his free hand under his cheek, ready to listen to whatever you had to say.

'When and how did you steal, sorry, did Molang steal my shirt?', you spoke, unable to ban some wheezes out of your speaking, because Kai looked absolutely cute the way he was staring at you, all sleepy yet attentive.

'Borrowed. It's borrowed not stolen', Kai corrected in a matter of factly and hurried to place a kiss on your cheek to finish his sentence properly.

'You simply forgot it here and I wanted to make use of it the best way possible', he continued and a second touch of his lips followed.

'Did you at least wash it?', you asked, genuinely not knowing what his answer might end up being.

'Washing machines are not invented yet', he yawned and you made a mental note to wash the damn shirt tomorrow.

'What else isn't invented yet?',, you asked and rolled over to be closer to him.

He adjusted and held you close right away.

'Cars', he said.

'What are those lights then?', you asked and pointed up the wall.

Kai took your hand and pulled it towards his lips to place another kiss, this time on the back of your hand, before he maneuvered your arm around him with a content sigh.

'Gigantic fireflies`, he chuckled and after a few more explanations of what everything technological around you actually is, you two fall asleep, dreaming of a fantasy world with gigantic fireflies and Molang presenting its new shirt collection.

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evilminji · 4 months

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You know how in Naruto, Sealing is a Finicky Art?

It's like computer coding, calligraphy, and symbolism had a super-powered/reality bending baby. You gotta think in VERY ADHD twirls and swirls too be any good at it. Which is why the Uzumaki rocked it so hard. But I digress.

Is Complexe AF.

Bends Reality and is EASY to fuck up.

Wanna bet? The BEST way to learn/use it? Is to copy already functioning examples? But Oh! How do you KNOW they are functioning? Safe? Well OBVIOUSLY, your Skilled At Seals teacher looks at it first! THEN gives it too you!

Using random seals you find in the dirt is how you get splattered across three different countryside in peices, after all. Possibly take out a nearly Town or two while your at it. No One Is THAT Dumb... RIGHT?

Enter Stage Right o/~☆ Humanity, Everybody! *polite, if strained, golf clapping*

They ABSOLUTELY Are!

Especially Ninja!

Ninja who, after fuckin MURDERING A WHOLE ASS VILLAGE OF SEALING MASTERS, decided to pick through the rubble! Because THAT is gonna work out GREAT! After all... it's not like you just KILLED the fuckers who could tell you what IS and IS NOT functional!

Was that once the "hazardous advanced class' sealing failures" bin? Or was it the "super awesome candy and rainbows" stash!? You don't know. NO ONE DOES NOW. You fuckin KILLED THE PEOPLE WHO DID.

They had their own REGIONAL Sealing Script.

You know, the one they taught to THEIR STUDENTS. Not outsiders. The students you KILLED, you absolute fuck nuggets. But hey! The threat of the Super Scary Sealing Masters is no more! Good job. You've successfully burned down the library. It can't hurt you ever again.

But NOW? You have piles upon piles of GIBBERISH.

You can only VAGUELY tell the novice seals from the master's. And even then? Do you have any idea what most of them DO? Nope. And after a certain point in training? The shaky, uncertain hand writing becomes smooth enough, that it all blends together in "Seals".

Now... what is the SMART thing to do?

Curse your hubris and the atrocities your fear allowed you to commit, obviously. But BEYOND that, Don't Touch Them. But we're Ninja. So WE are all suicidal idiots. The less smart but still Reasonably Precautionary thing to do? Study the amateur Seals. Learn Sealing from other masters.

Crack the Regional Script and slowly, painstakingly, work through each seal as we sort out what is and isn't safe. What can be salvaged. What can be used and how.

A process that will likely take years if not decades.

But of course, that's not GOOD ENOUGH for certain grabby handed, power hungry, short sighted, fuck weasels! No, no. It much EASIER to just throw human life into the blender until profit pops out! Completely IGNORING, of course, that SOME of these?

Could very well be the "Too Dangerous To Ever Use/Will Destroy Us All/Take Them All With Us" type of Seals that Kage usually LOCK UP. The kind you CAN'T destroy once you've made them, because the fall out would be WORSE. And?

Even if you are a murderous, middle management, go nowhere in your life, BASTARD of a ninja? Sometimes you can look down at the massive, intricately detailed, killer off nation's before you. Something that was WRAPPED in locks upon locks upon chains upon seals. And KNOW in your selfish, survival at all costs little heart... You DO NOT want anyone to fuck with this.

You CAN NOT let anyone fuck with this.

NO ONE can be allowed to touch it.

Not for ANYTHING.

You may fear S Class Kage and Missing Nin and what all else they may do to you. But THIS? Your eyes can't even properly FOCUS on it. It's like a tunnel that's lined with poetry, stretching all the way to the Earth's core. It's perfectly flat. It moves, a gentle rotation. But is that just your eyes, tricking you?

So much ink, it swallows the scroll, and this is when it's COMPRESSED.

How many nations?

How many NATIONS must this monstrosity span, when free?

It must have taken a Master decades, if not their entire life, to complete. Possibly a family, several generations. But... but gods it is a work of MADNESS. No wonder it was sealed. It speak, you... you THINK... of Death...

Of it's KING.

Something BEYOND the Shinigami. BEYOND Death and the Purelands.

Who the FUCK would try to summon something beyond GODS? Did they think they could control it? Chain it like the bijuu? You're so cold inside. Because you KNOW. You fucking KNOW, the ambitions and arrogance of those above you.

They'll think they can.

They won't listen.

You... you have to take this and RUN. You stand no chance. But no chance is better then oblivion. Anything is better then standing by and watching it happen.

You obviously don't make it. You never expected too. But at least... at least you won't have to watch whatever THAT is... arrive... fuck...

At least you TRIED.

And? Because leaf Ninja, specifically certain teams, have the MOST Shit luck imaginable? They arrive, having crossed paths with several other teams, on the way back home (yay! Warm food and real beds!) Just in time to see a desperate looking ninja from one of the small villages get fuckin pincushioned. Drop what is VERY clearly an Uzushio Scroll of considerable size and SEVERE SSS+ DO Not EVER Touch Grade Type Markings, and then some joining from that same village go to grab it.

Notice them.

You know... the multiple LEAF NINJA. Who TOO THIS DAY, wear the UZU swirl on their uniforms as a mourning tribute to the DEAR AND PRECIOUS ALLIES they could not save. The Uzushio Allies. Those ones. The ones that were, in fact, from Uzushio.

LIKE THE SCROLL YOU ARE HOLDING.

By the WAY! How DID you get that Scroll? Doesn't seem like something our dear friends would just HAND over, now does it? You didn't happen to LOOT THEIR FUCKIN GRAVES did you? Cause we sure would be MAD about that!

Real Mad.

Dude obviously panics. Because that? That is a VERY pissed off bunch of Ninja, many in the bingo book, one of whom is Very Clearly throwing off BIJUU CHAKRA. And just said "my family's" Ha ha... Oh Shit that's an Uzumaki.

So he decides to USE THE SEAL.

What does it do?

He doesn't know! But it's probably SOMETHING big and impressive, right?

Yes. :) Yes it Does.

*Crack*

The SKY cracks. Like a pane of glass, struck by a hammer. Spiderwebbing as far as the eye can see above them, all from one central point, directly above the seal. The cracks there are concentrated. A point of impact. And through the cracks... something GREEN shines.

Brighter then the daylight around it, yet darker in color then the blue of the sky. Lazily whisping out like escaping mist. Time seems slow as their eyes all whip up wards. Even with senses beyond the normal human base, it is... inconceivable. SOMETHING winds back. They can not see it.

But they can feel it.

Like changing pressure as a storm rolls in.

*Crack!*

Green overtakes the blue. The sky a Kaleidescape of shards, held together by stubbornness alone. Reflecting a calm day that seems IMPOSSIBLE in the face of what's occurring. There should be wind. Great pressure changes in the face of so much FORCE, but the trees are eerily still.. utterly silent..

Nothing dares bring attention to itself.

Some distant part of their minds try to gather the thought that... that it could be an illusion. They... they should check. But they can FEEL it. Like a weight draped gently but without mercy upon their shoulders. It did not slam. But... but they can not move. Can barely breathe. It is beyond killing intent.

It is simply...

DEATH.

*CRASH!*

At last, the sky gives way. A fist, the size of towers punching through. It... it is almost elegant. A ring, almost in the shinigami's visage, wraps itself in a howling and snarled menace, around a great shining finger. A glove protects almost delicate looking, claw tipped fingers. The fist pulls back. Shard of sky falling, Floating, suspended in their moment of destruction, a glittering frame for the gapping wound that has overtaken everything.

Death...

Death has Green Eyes.

A crown of ice and starlight, pulled straight from the coldest north, hair that drifts like the drowned. His skin is that of a corpse. His breath a coldness that seems to suck all warmth from the world. There is no rage, no great irritation, his face merely twisted in slight annoyance. Mild displeasure.

And yet it feels like their greatest sin.

It BURNS.

They are ants. Less then ants. He... He LOOMS so TALL. The Green BURNS into their eyes, into their veins, chokes their lungs. The silence stretches. Those great eyes, the eyes of a GOD, move from them. To the man with the Seal.

He dies instantly.

Shit.

They... they need to... to...

Naruto wanders over and picks up the scroll, completely ignore the Giant Sky God Of Death and how all his friends are frozen in primordial fear. He roughly shakes the dirt off the delicate old relic, then squint at it. Figures he's holding it upside-down. Flipping it, he squints harder. Tilts his head and hums.

"Oh!"

He holds his hand up, turning to look at the terrifying Deity From Beyond Comprehension.

"It's me! I'm the Uzumaki! But, uh, I didn't actually summon you? Our stuff got stolen. Which really sucks!" He looks down again, brings the paper nearly to his nose trying to make out some thing. "Uuuuuh, huh. Got it! Can you get smaller? I don't got any BBQ or anything ON me right now, but Choji's Family makes REALLY good food! We can go out to eat? Ooh ooh! Maybe RAMEN! You like Ramen, right?!"

"Yep, Definitely one of Shouta's."

Rumbles The Actual Fucking King Of Death, shaking the trees and ground under your feet. As you probably stare at your fellow Leaf Nin like WTF.

"Sure, man. Give me a second."

And suddenly? He's leaning forward. Shrinking and twisting in ways that are painful to look at. The sky is... is not healing, so much as UNcracking. Rewinding itself to a pristine state. Until only a large, floating, armored God in black and white floats above you. Glowing.

One that... that is apparently FRIENDS with the Uzumaki Clan.

Because of course he is.

Naruto's introducing his Toads. And teammates. You almost feel bad for Hatake. But like? Better you then me, buddy. THEN? Death? Decides? For some inconceivable reason. "You know what? Im'ma just turn into a human WITH NO CHAKRA NETWORK. Reeeeeally freak out the locals."

And now Leaf is INCHARGE of entertaining A GOD until he decides to leave.

Or (presumably) Else.

And!! Because life loves to kick ninjas IN THE BALLS (for their stupid, STUPID life choices, YOU FUCKERS) it just HAD to be the One God? That can SEE DEAD PEOPLE. Because it's not like ninjas have Death Related Traumas or anything!

*internal ninja screaming*

Feed the guy some BBQ! Stat! Please Akimichi! Save us!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#dpxnaruto #naruto prompt #dp prompt #dpxnaruto prompt #narutoxdp #whoops we summoned a ghost king!#but dont worry #UZU accidentally did that TONS #he just asks for food then leaves #cool guy #thats why were are all chakra beasts and also probably ghosts now!#naruto is like?#new frien?#new frien!#no hes not asking #minji's writing

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marragurl · 14 days

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Ok so like…. Who makes Ratio’s statues?

Because every possible explanation just opens up a whole new can of worms.

I’ve been trying to go through as much info about him as I can, including his character stories, but I can’t find anything???

So I’m just left stewing in the dark, which usually leads to my humor coming into play.

So like… are the statues of Ratio’s own making??

Because that would insinuate that he takes the time out of his busy life to constantly make new statues of just himself, including the multiple plaster heads. And if it’s not him physically and it is a manifestation of his Imaginary powers, he’s still making them right???

So he still chooses the poses!

Why???

What is his thought process???

Physically made or Imaginary Powers made, it’s still his choice on what the statue should look like right???

And if it’s not a conscious decision, then WHAT DO THE JOJO AND CUTESY POSES MEAN

IS JOJO’S BIZARRE ADVENTURES FUCKING CANON IN HSR??

IS IT A SHOW THAT EXISTS??

ARE YOU TELLING ME ARAKI FUCKING EXISTS IN HSR??

AND RATIO IS A FAN??????

DON’T TELL ME IT’S JUST A FUN REFERENCE BY THE HSR TEAM, YEA IT’S META TO US BUT IT’S CANON TO THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE THAT RATIO HAS A STATUE OF HIMSELF DOING A JOJO POSE

On the other hand, if it’s not Ratio himself making them… who is it????

Is Ratio commissioning some artists?? Multiple artists? Only one?!?!?

Is it some weird form of extra credit for his students???

(Student A: Hey wanna hang out tonight?

Student B: Can’t. Gotta finish up this statue of Dr. Ratio examining his codex by Friday if I wanna get a passing grade in the class

Student A: You can sculpt???

Student B crying with 100 tabs of ‘how to sculpt’ videos and wikiHows pulled up and no sleep: I’m trying my best here Sharon)

Is he like those Renaissance time rich people who basically paid for their favorite artist’s livelihood in order to just make nice art in return??? Is there now a really well-off sculptor somewhere in the universe who is just constantly being paid by THE Dr. Ratio to make stone statues of the man??? Does the artist just put that down in their tax returns??

(back at it again with Topaz suffering from Ratiorine’s antics, she’s the one in charge of Ratio’s Sculptor’s taxes)

THAT STILL DOESN’T ANSWER THE STATUE POSE QUESTIONS

DID THE ARTIST ADD IN THE JOJO POSE AND HEART POSE AS A GAG??? AND SURVIVE RATIO SEEING THEM??

WORSE- DID RATIO COMMISSION THE POSES??? WHAT WAS THAT CONVERSATION EVEN LIKE??? DID HE HAVE TO POSE?? DOES THE ARTIST JUST HAVE AN ENTIRE SCRAPBOOK OF RATIO DOING DIFFERENT POSES FOR CONSTANT REFERENCE?

FUCK IT, DID AVENTURINE GET IN CONTACT WITH THE ARTIST AND PAY EVEN MORE MONEY FOR THE CUTESY POSES??

(Whole new thought process, the artist is making statues of Ratio for both Ratio AND Aventurine, and all the cute statues are actually commissions by Aventurine for his little Dr. Ratio idol crush shrine. There’s a constant slapstick comedy routine of Aventurine trying to hide them anytime Ratio comes over to his place and barely getting away with it. Does he ever come clean when they start dating? Do they start dating because Ratio finds the statues? Fuck it, if Ratio is the one making the statues and not an artist, does he teach Aventurine how to sculpt?? Does it become like something they do together to spend time?? Ok damn wait that’s kinda cute wait-)

WAIT ADDING ON TO THAT- DOES THAT MEAN FOLLOWING THIS THOUGHT PROCESS THAT AVENTURINE IS THE JOJO FAN???? HE’S A FUCKING JOTARO STAN???

(wait- brisk MC who’s rude to everyone but soft on those he cares about and has the muscles of a Greek god and eventually goes into academia, oh my fucking god Aventurine has a type)

PLEASE

I NEED TO KNOW WHERE ARE THESE STATUES COMING FROM

EVERYONE SEEMS TO KNOW ABOUT THEM, THEY AREN’T A SECRET

IS HIS HOUSE JUST FULL OF STATUES???

DOES HE HAVE A WHOLE-ASS GRECO-ROMAN-STYLE GARDEN FULL OF HIS OWN STATUES???

DOES THE ARTIST SEE A STATUE DISAPPEAR FROM THE GARDEN AND IMMEDIATELY KNOW RATIO USED HIS TECHNIQUE TO SLAM ONE DOWN BREAKING IT AND JUST GO “fucking hell man, I was just about to go on break! Now I need to start a new one!”

IS IT A HOBBY?? HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET INTO SCULPTING AS A HOBBY WITH HIS SCHEDULE???

ARE THEY GIFTS??

FROM WHO, STUDENTS??? ADMIRERS? FUCK IT, AVENTURINE???

DOES THE ARTIST BEING COMMISSIONED EVEN HAVE A LIFE OUTSIDE OF THE RATIO STATUES??? DO THEY EVEN HAVE THE ABILITY TO SCULPT ANYTHING OTHER THAN RATIO AT THIS POINT??? HAVE THEY SEEN ANY OTHER BEING OUTSIDE OF THEIR STUDIO AND THE HUNDREDS OF RATIO STATUES???

PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO ANSWER ME

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pedrito-friskito · 7 months

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disobedient - miguel o’hara x fem!reader (spidersona)

do you get off on disobeying me?

a/n: I regret fuck all folks. part 1 of 2 (no clue when part 2 will happen but it will). special shouts to @psychedelic-ink, @inklore, and @splendiferous-bitch for feeding my miguel obsession and being the best ❤️‍🔥

word count: 6.5k

warnings: oh mama. sex pollen, unprotected p-in-v, rough sex, desperate miguel, multiple orgasms, in a shocking twist a whole lotta exposition cuz I gotta make the fucking make sense, y’know?

✨@friskito-library for new works✨

You’re not supposed to do this.

You’re not supposed to be here, period, but the notion hasn’t stopped you thus far. It’s just gonna make him more pissed off than he normally is, but pissing Miguel O’Hara off has quickly climbed to the top of your list of talents, and you’re content to continue doing as you please.

Especially if it means he’ll keep glowering at you with those eyes of his.

It threw you off initially — him, in general. Unfairly large, all rippling muscle and too-tiny waist, the hip-to-shoulder ratio of a Dorito chip and retractable claws you’ve seen more than once now. Not to mention an ass that looks like it was sculpted by a god. But it was the eyes that caught your attention, when you caught him glowering at you from a shadowy corner, like a predator hunting its prey.

“You gonna keep gawking,” you’d asked, “or come say hello like a normal person?”

Neither of you fit that category — normal people, boring — and he’d ignored your quip, actually growling at you as he stalked out of the shadows and brushed past you, bumping your shoulder in the process, and your brow had lifted at the way his suit seemed to ripple with the impact, forming and reforming against his skin. You saw it all, thanks to your spider-tacular vision, and your next thought after I want to sink my teeth into that ass, was I need to get my hands on that fabric.

Six months later, and no dice. You’ve been bouncing between Earth 928 and whatever dimension suits your fancy since Miguel first brought you here. How you convinced him to hand over one of his fancy bracelets, you’ll never truly know, but you have a distinct feeling the nature of your first meeting was what prompted him to give you access to the multi-verse — along with a slew of rules you more often than not turned your nose up at.

It also probably has something to do with the fact that you didn’t leave Nueva York for the first month. You holed up in the room he provided, ate the food he left by the door, and slept your days away, ignoring the too-bright world outside the windows, content to waste away to nothing. You couldn’t go home, what did it matter anyway?

Enter Miguel O’Hara and his incredibly bite-able ass.

When he first found you on the rooftop, cornered you near the fire escape, you’d gone snarky, despite the rumble in your bones, the betrayal that had cut you to the core, the looming fact that shit had just hit the fan and nothing was ever going to be the same again.

And then Mister Grumpy steps through a fucking portal and tells you he can save you. He can’t fix what happened, but he can take you somewhere they won’t find you again, a haven of sorts. For a moment, you reeled — how could you know for sure that you could trust him? You almost asked him as much, but then the blanket of realization swept over you: there was nothing left for you on Earth 374. The spider on his chest was clue enough that you were on the right track. Sure, his was bright red on dark blue, whereas your own was navy against slate grey, but the similarities were close enough, namely the giant fucking spider.

The door to the rooftop had jiggled and Miguel swept a hand out, shooting webbing at the handle, keeping it shut. “Clock’s ticking, princesa,” he told you, the nickname said almost tauntingly. “Offer’s about to expire.”

You knew there had to be other spider-people out there in the universe, you just hadn’t imagined them to be so…large.

Or demanding, you’d learn later. Or asshole-ish. Sigh.

“Get me the fuck outta here,” you answered, and that was that. You were standing in his lab in Nueva York a moment later, and the jolt of multi-dimensional travel had you puking your guts all over the glossy floor. Faintly, you’d heard Miguel’s grunt of disdain.

“Lyla, get someone to clean this up,” he said, and his hand curled around your arm a moment later, hauling you to your feet like a rag doll. “You’ll get used to it,” he told you. “The jumping. I did the same thing after my first time.”

You were too out of it to know if he was actually being nice, or if the subtle lift to the corner of his mouth was just amusement at your expense.

“Yeah, well, warn a girl next time, would you?”

But you did get used to it. Once you managed to get your ass out of bed and back into your suit, you were soon away from the Spider Society more than you were there. For the first couple weeks, Miguel hadn’t said a word, apparently content to let you go where you pleased, barely questioning you when you deigned to return. Then, it was like a switch was flipped, and he was up your ass — and not in a fun, sexy way. He wanted reports on each of your jumps, timelines and activity breakdowns. He wanted lists of targets, reasons behind them, background checks. All things you knew he could easily get himself, but you also didn’t have the guts to tell him that since he’d saved you from Earth 374, you hadn’t actually…helped…anyone.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Your first solo jump you’d managed to find a few bank robberies and a mugging happening within a few blocks of each other. Clearly, you’d picked a gem of a universe, and while you’d managed to web up the bandits in the vault, something in you had frozen when you tried to track down the mugger. The scene unfolded on the street below and you just…shut down.

The rest of your trips were spent just exploring. You swung your way through cities, camped out on rooftops, just watching the normal people go about their lives down below. You noted the differences between that universe and your own, tried to remember where all the puzzle pieces fit, even though you were looking at a different picture.

And it’s that curiosity, that quiet desperation to know more, that has you padding out of your room in the Spider Society tower, overriding the elevator that’ll take you up to Miguel’s lab. His currently empty lab. The man himself has been away on a scouting mission for nearly forty-eight hours, and you’re not expecting him back for another twenty-four, which gives you more than enough time to satisfy that annoying voice in the back of your head that wants to know how they’re doing.

It’s late. The world outside the tower is dark, the sky an inky black, streaked with light shades, dotted with stars. You’d be a fool not to find Earth 928 and Nueva York beautiful in their own strange, overly modern ways, but even six months in, it’s hard to think of it as home.

But you know why. It’s because it’s not.

You’d lasted a few days before you started glitching, and being cooped up in your room, you assumed you’d be able to hide it from Miguel. Part of you feared that if he knew something was wrong with you, he’d send you back to 374, and then what would happen to you?

You went to sleep worrying it over in your mind, and woke up to a complicated-looking watch sitting on the nightstand beside your bed. A hastily scrawled note stuck to it.

Put it on. It’ll help.

As soon as you did, the device beeped to life, a holographic screen jumping up, telling you the date and time and a myriad of other pieces of information. And then—

“Hiya, toots! I’m Lyla.”

You were confused as hell by the AI at first, but you quickly realized how useful she was, even more knowledgeable than Miguel, not that she’d ever admit it. And, in all honesty, you were a fan of the gab sessions. When Miguel wasn’t working her overtime, she’d beep her way through your watch for a good chat, perch herself on your pillow in the days you were still a shut-in, and when you started to make your way through the multi-verse, she was quick to point out the must-sees wherever you were.

She ran out quickly when she realized you were visiting the same place, just a different universe.

The doors to Miguel’s lab whoosh open at your approach, bare feet padding along the glass floor, and as you pause, getting yourself a cup of coffee from the forever-full carafe he keeps far away from the supercomputer, your watch pings to life, and the AI herself glitters into existence.

“What d’you think you’re doing?”

You ignore her at first, fixing your coffee the way you like it, flicking the stir stick into the trash before bringing the cup to your lips. It’s not until you start toward the computer and the large platform that houses it, that you answer her.

“Nothin’.”

She groans. “That’s a load of shit and we both know it.”

“He’s not here,” you say, shrugging a shoulder as you step onto the platform. The screens hum to life as you drag one hand across the infrared keyboard and when you glance over your shoulder, Lyla’s staring at you over the top of her heart-shaped glasses. “What he won’t know won’t hurt him.”

“And you really think doing exactly what he told you not to do is the best idea?”

You sigh, sipping your coffee as you sink into the chair, rolling yourself close to the computers. Miguel rarely uses the chair, apparently content to just stand and stare all broodingly at the screens. You only watched him — caught him — do this once, but when you caught on to what was happening, you filed the information away. He’d given you hell for snooping around, though you teased that he was just pissed you’d managed to sneak up on him, and according to Lyla, nobody does that.

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you pause. He did tell you, rather specifically, not to do what you’re about to do. He didn’t tell you why, wouldn’t give an inch when you pressed him, but he was firm.

No good will come of it.

Earth 473. Not an identical twin to your home universe, but a very close sibling. The differences were so small, so scarce, that you truly thought you’d stumbled back to 374 accidentally, and you’d nearly jumped back to Nueva York, heart in your throat. But then something caught your eye, and you froze.

Across the way, teetering at the edge of the rooftop, was Spider-Man.

His suit was the opposite of yours, the spider grey and the suit navy. You could feel him staring right back at you, even at the distance, and as you stared back, he lifted his hand. For a moment you thought he might wave, your own fingers twitching to return the gesture, but then it continued up, gripping the back of his mask and yanking it from his bed.

You saw his mouth form the words, heard them like a whisper in the air.

“You’re alive.”

Your frozen heart dropped into your toes.

It was Peter. Your Peter, the one you’d left behind on Earth 374, your best friend, the one who…who…

You didn’t have it in you to finish the thought. It was all the evidence you needed to know that this universe was not yours. You were the only Spider-Person on 374, and your Peter wasn’t…he couldn’t…

You’d stumbled backward, blindly grabbing for your watch, suddenly desperate to be back in the SS tower. But then you paused, your fingers twitching on the dials and digits.

And you almost went exactly where you weren’t supposed to. Like a reflex. Shaking yourself, you punched in 928, everything in you twisting and turning as you stepped through the portal.

Miguel was waiting. He’d been watching you, paying close attention to that particular jump, and had used the link through your watch to see what you saw. The opposite-but-mirror image on the rooftop.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice low, that deep timbre that still managed to catch you off guard. “The multi-verse doesn’t work that way.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you spat back, shrugging off his hand when he tried to grab your arm. “You have no idea what I’m feeling.”

His face had gone feral. Those carmine eyes flaring, staring down his nose at you while you just stared right back, defiant. You went to step past him, and he caught you again, this time his longer fingers wrapping around your forearm, the tell-tale prick of his talons biting through your suit.

“I know a fuck load more than you seem to think,” he snarled, dragging you close to he was in your face. “In case you forgot, I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you have, and what you saw out there, what it means to you, I know exactly where your mind went. And I am telling you: the multi-verse does not work like that.”

“What am I thinking?” you spat back, ignoring the pinpricks of pain that shot through your arm as you got even closer, leaning up on your toes. “If you’re so fucking knowledgeable, tell me.”

He released you, then. The pain in your arm dissipated as quickly as it had come, and his eyes went…soft. Thoughtful.

Sympathetic.

“You’re thinking,” he started, inhaling deeply, rubbing two fingers between his brows as he spoke, “that you could go back there, to 473, and make a life for yourself. The same family, the same friends, the same life. They lost their version of you, so why not fill her shoes? Find some semi-logical explanation, hide your powers, live your life. Am I close?”

You almost stumbled backward, the truth of his words sending you reeling. You bumped into his desk instead, knocking a cup of coffee over, and neither of you said a word as the dark liquid spread across the desktop, dripping off the edge and onto the floor.

Miguel took a half-step toward you, then turned slightly, looking over the curve of his shoulder at you. Something in you longed to press your forehead against his frame, search for some kind of support, but you stayed stuck still.

“I know,” he continued, turning his head, staring straight ahead, “because I did exactly the same thing. And I lost everything.”

His words echo through your mind now, the deep tone you’ve gotten very familiar with, and you shake your head, clearing away the cobwebs he’s left in your head. “This is different,” you say aloud, partially to Lyla, partially to yourself. “I’m not going there, I’m just…checking in.”

The AI rolls her eyes at you and snaps her gum. “I said it once and I’ll say it again: load of shit.”

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, typing in the codes to find what you’re looking for. You haven’t been back to 473 since that jump; Miguel had forbade it after your spat, and even went so far as to block your watch from taking you there. You thought he was being unreasonable, and he reiterated that he was actually trying to keep you safe.

No good will come of it.

You hit the final key, and the images start to fade in. You can just barely make out the shape of her — of you — when the screens go black. Your breath catches in your throat as a large hand comes down on your shoulder, gripping tightly, though you don’t feel the pricks of his talons.

“Do you get off on disobeying me?”

The words are almost a purr, the opposite of the tone you’re expecting, and from the corner of your eye, you see Lyla blip from existence. It makes goosebumps rise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as he leans in, hot breath on your ear.

“If I make you cum, will that make you more obedient? Hm?”

“What the fu—” you start, trying to whirl around, but his grip on you is solid, warm palm following the curve of your shoulder until his fingers are wrapping themselves around your throat. It’s a welcome weight, sparks of electricity shooting down your limbs, your thighs rubbing together to relieve the instant pressure. “Mmm.”

His thumb presses down on your racing pulse, and you’re suddenly aware of how warm he is. He’s…too warm. But you have to admit, the way he’s holding you…it’s nice. Really nice.

“Miguel,” you start, trying to turn again, but he fits his face into the bare side of your neck, lips grazing the thin skin. “You’re not supposed to be back yet.”

“Mission went south,” he mumbles against you, his tongue darting past his lips and dragging along your skin. It makes your eyes roll back, but…

Where is this coming from?

He should be furious with you. He caught you red-handed, no questions about it. You weren’t expecting him to find you in the first place, but now that he has, you’re expecting a screaming match, toddler-level foot-stomping and possibly being thrown over his ridiculously large shoulder and being tossed into your room like a rag doll. Locked up like Rapunzel until you start listening to his brand of reasoning. You’re expecting a blowout.

You’re not expecting this.

He huffs in your ear as his lips graze the sensitive skin beneath it, his words spoken into the shell, tongue catching on your earring. “You smell delicious, cariño.”

The pet name makes you shiver. “Mig,” you say again, your hand covering his as his other arm wraps around your middle, pulling you back against his chest. “What are you doing?”

His heart is racing, so hard that you can feel the heavy thump of it against your spine. It’s too fast, even for him, you know that much. His fingers curl against your stomach, talons poking out and shredding your shirt to strips. You gasp as the fabric falls away.

“Miguel.” You make your voice as stern as possible. It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you like this, it just seems so sudden, so out of character, and you—

He wrenches himself away from you, the heady warmth of him suddenly gone, and you whirl, hand flying up to grip your neck as the sound of him crashing into the wall reaches your ears. His fingers are leaving indents in the metal, talons scratching deep, and you gulp as you realize you’re lucky he didn’t just accidentally slit your throat.

Whatever’s happening, he’s not himself.

“Mig,” you call, wiping your bloody hand on your sweats, crossing the distance he’s put between you. “Would you just talk t—”

“NO!” he roars, throwing a hand out in front of himself. You can see his large frame shake as he sinks down against the wall, long tears in the metal forming in his wake. “Keep your distance.”

Your brow lifts. “Says the man who was literally crawling up my ass three seconds ago.” You ignore him, taking another step, ignoring the way his words ring through your head. Do you get off on disobeying me?

Yeah…maybe you do. Just a little bit.

You crouch down low, getting on his level. “Mig, tell me what happened.”

“Don’t call me that,” he spits, staring you down for a moment before forcing his head to the side, an action that looks like it takes a lot of effort. “Just…go to your room, leave me be.”

“You telling me not to call you that just makes me wanna call you that more.” You shift onto your knees, inching a little closer. “I can’t leave you be, not when you just put a bunch of holes in the wall,” you lift your hand to your throat, where the scratches he left are already almost gone, “and almost in me. Tell me what happened.”

He tilts his head back against the wall, still turned away from you, one crimson eye looking your way. “Mierda, you’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes. “Like you didn’t know that already. Talk.”

“Earth 1365-7,” he starts, eyes fluttering shut. His eyelashes are unfair, you think to yourself, the way they fan out across his even more unfair cheekbones. “I ended up in their version of OSCORP, some testing centre. Different serums and gases and…they were trying to weaponize a kind of paralytic that’s found in certain spider venom.”

His tongue pokes out after he says the word venom, tracing the tips of his fangs, and you swallow hard.

Bite me, bite me, bite me.

You shake your head, silencing the thought.

“And you stopped them?” you prompt, when he doesn’t go further, instead inhaling deeply and scrubbing a hand down his face.

“I did,” he tells you, but there’s no trace of triumph in his voice or on his face. “But I stumbled into one of the other labs, and as soon as I did…” He trails off, body shifting against the floor, and it’s impossible to miss the ripple in his skin-tight suit, the way he props one knee up, blocking your view of his crotch. “It was some sort of plant that they’d been researching. The pollen, it raises a person’s heart rate, skyrockets it, and muddles their senses. If left untreated, it can kill them.”

You stare at him hard. “What’s the treatment, Miguel?”

“The side effects,” he continues, ignoring your question. “Heightened blood pressure, extremely sensitive skin, lowered inhibitions, and…”

“Mig, would you just tell me?”

“Arousal,” he finishes, and you freeze. “Intense arousal. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that, I just…The only way to treat it is to…”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but the implication is clear, along with the intense reminder of how he was pressed against you.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, shrugging a shoulder, trying like hell to look non-committal, like your skin isn’t still tingling in all the places he touched you. “Lowered inhibitions, like you said.”

He doesn’t say anything so much as hum in response, his head lolling to the side again. His eyes are fire when they open again, landing on you and pinning you in place. It makes your breath hitch again, palms lowering to rest on your thighs.

“You need to get out of here, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice low, husky, fingers tapping against his bent knee. “I need to deal with this.”

You’ve inched a bit closer to him, you realize, your traitorous body giving you away.

“How are you gonna deal with it?” you ask, barely above a whisper. Every inch of you is tingling now, not just the places he touched, and the way he tilts his head back again and groans is not helping matters. “Maybe I should…help.”

His eyes flash to you, pools of red, pupils blown big as dinner plates. “You want to…help.”

“You said this could kill you,” you continue, leaning forward until your palms hit the floor. “Someone should…keep an eye on you, y’know. Make sure you…y’know, don’t.”

“How articulate of you.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and rumbly, but you don’t miss the way his shoulders shake even after the laughter has stopped. His breathing is shaky too, you can hear it from where you’re crouched. Worry threads through the lust that’s seemingly replaced your blood, and you slide even closer to him, until there’s maybe two feet between you.

“I don’t want you to die.” The words hang heavy in the air and the truth of them twists your guts. Stubborn ass he may be, but he’s done nothing but protect you since he found you back on Earth 374. You…care. You care a lot.

“Lyla can keep an eye on me,” he spits, but you just get closer.

“So she can wipe her hard drive and clean her eyes with soap afterward?” you joke. “I can’t leave you like this, Mig. Can AIs even use soap?”

“Don’t call me that,” he says again.

“Let me help you,” you say, the words coming easier, firmer. “You know that I can.”

You close the distance completely, your knees bumping the side of his thigh and your hand covering his on the floor. The fabric of his suit recedes, revealing his hands, and your fingers brush over his knuckles. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you tell him, leaning back on your heels, lifting your other hand to pull his bent knee straight. “You need help, and I’m offering it.”

He groans again.

“I’ve owed you, this whole time,” you continue, resting your hand on his shin as his leg rests on the floor. It takes everything in you not to let your eyes wander up to the space between his hips, but you manage. “You saved my life; let me save yours.”

The spider made you strong, made you fast, but Miguel…He’s so large, so imposing, and the moment his hands land on your body, you know he’s been holding back from you.

He maneuvers you into his lap, your knees resting against his hips. In an instant you can feel him, the hard prod of his cock against your cunt, separated only by the thin fabric of your pants and the rippling material of his suit. Miguel groans as he fits his face into your neck, talons pressing into your hips as the suit melts away, every inch of his golden skin suddenly on display. It’s overwhelming and your blood heats, unable to bite back the moan that slips free when he pulls your hips against his, the pressure between you exactly what you need it to be.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he grits out, his hips lifting off the floor as he chases your body, as you chase each other. “This is just…”

“I’m helping,” you breathe out, your hands curling around his shoulders as you settle into his lap. Well, not so much as settle as twitch, the fabric of your shirt riding up as his hands move up your sides, curling around your ribs. “This is only about keeping you alive.”

“Alive,” he repeats, and you bite your lip, feeling his fingers curl into your shirt. “You have no fucking idea how…”

“God, shut up,” you groan, gripping his face in your hands, claiming his mouth for your own. The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears as your lips meet his and he growls at you, shredding your shirt and tossing the fabric away, leaving you bare from the waist up. His hands drop to your ass then, tugging at your pants and you bite his bottom lip. “You could just ask nicely, you know.”

He just grunts in response, effectively splitting the elastic band and pulling the rest of your clothes away. You’re completely naked now, perched in his lap, and your skin heats in every spot you’re pressed to him. Which is basically everywhere. “I’ll get you new ones,” he grits, and you roll your eyes, biting at his lip again.

There’s little ceremony to it. Miguel drags you along him a few times, the feel of him prodding between your legs lighting a fire in you. You can feel how big he is, but you busy yourself with his mouth, your knees pressing against his hips. One of his hands skims down your back, curving around your hip and sliding two fingers through your folds. It makes you keen, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses those fingers into you.

“Wet,” he grunts against your mouth, his breath stuttering as you clench around his digits. You rock your hips into his hand, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging until his head tips back.

“Take what you need,” you say, and for once, he listens to you.

The feeling of his fingers pulling out leaves you aching, but you’re not left waiting for long. He presses against the small of your back, tilting your hips, and then he’s inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. The sheer fullness that sweeps through you is almost too overwhelming, and your breath whooshes out of you as your chest slams into his. You can feel the way his heart is racing, the rapid thump beneath his sternum nearly vibrating against your own.

This doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, circling your hips as he plants his feet, bends his knees. He holds you up slightly, giving just enough space between you for him to thrust up into you, hitting a spot that makes you see stars. This is just…helping. I’m just being helpful.

You’re just…quickly reaching the most intense orgasm you’ve had in a hot second.

He keeps hammering into that same spot, the lab filling with the sound of his skin on yours, your panting breaths, and Miguel’s grunts. It’s fucking euphoric, your head falling back between your shoulders. “Mig, I—”

“Not yet,” he growls, and suddenly you’re being lifted, the heavy weight of him still pressed inside you. Your grip on each other is firm, and Miguel moves quickly, sweeping you out of the lab and through the door that leads to his room. You barely get a breath in before your back hits his mattress and he’s towering over you, his big hands curled around your thighs, kneeling so he can prop your ass up. The angle lets him drive deeper and you throw your arms over your head, curling your fingers in his bedsheets, trying to find some leverage.

One of his hands moves over you, palm grazing your stomach before moving down. He thumbs at your clit, dragging another moan out of you, his brow going hard. You have a better look at his face now, his expression pinched, eyes trained on where he’s pounding into you. His skin is damp with sweat, a sheen on his forehead, his mouth hanging open. You swear you can see his pulse jumping in his throat.

“Want you to cum, princesa,” he nearly begs, and the hitch in his voice makes goosebumps rise all over your body. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuates each word with a deep thrust and everything in you goes impossibly tighter.

“This is about you,” you pant out, clawing at his sheets. “I don’t need—”

But you do. You really fucking do, but something about admitting that to him right here and now feels…wrong. It twists your gut in a not-so-fun way.

“I don’t care, I need you to cum,” he growls, releasing his grip on your thigh to grab at your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “Now.”

Suddenly, your body is not your own. It responds instantly to his command, a string threading your muscles drawing tight as a bow before snapping entirely. Your back arches against the mattress, so hard it just brings you closer to him and Miguel drops his head, dragging his nose up the middle of your chest. It courses through your entire body, your hips lifting entirely off the bed to chase him, to keep him buried within you.

He groans as you cum, the sound the only thing you’re aware of besides the pleasure setting your body on fire. There’s a ringing in your ears, your muscles going lax as you start to come down, but he doesn’t stop. One of your hands floats to his hair, tangling the sweat-damp strands around your knuckles and you can feel his growl shake your ribs.

“More,” he grits, raking his hands down your sides, gripping your hips again. You inhale sharply as his head turns, skirting across your chest to take your nipple between his lips. The pace is relentless, your body growing tight again with his movements. He’s playing you like a fucking fiddle, and you’re the first to admit you’re loving every second of it.

You manage to open your eyes, the pleasure receding just enough for you to regain some of your faculties.

He’s staring right back.

It makes you flinch, jolting in his grasp as his lips draw back, revealing one pointed fang. You shiver as he drags the tip of it around your nipple.

“Again.”

And again, your body obeys. This time it sneaks up on you more than barrels through you, making you throw your head back against the mattress. “Fuck, Miguel.” Your nails dig against his scalp, tugging at his hair, revelling in the noise it pulls out of him. You want to record it, put it on repeat, set it as your fucking ringtone. How the fuck is he doing this? This was supposed to be about him.

Not that you’re not enjoying yourself. Quite the opposite.

He’s still staring at you, peering up at you from where he’s bent against your chest. There’s something in those ridiculous eyes, something you have no name for, and you force your eyes away, moving them down his body, to where you can see him still driving into your cunt, the length of him slick with you. The sight alone makes you clench, and when you do, he curses under his breath.

“Where…?” he grits, the hoarseness in his voice drawing your eyes back up to his face.

He looks like he’s in pain. Your heart twists in your chest at the sight, reaching up to swipe your hand across his sweaty forehead. “Does it hurt?”

“I need…” He trails off, leaning into your touch, turning his head and nipping at your wrist, at your pulse. “Where can I…?”

“Wherever you want,” you pant, gasping as he drives as deep as inhumanly possible, moving you further up the bed. “Whatever you need to—”

You’re cut off by the roar that echoes through the room. He buries his face in your neck as it happens, most of his weight dropping onto you, hips pinning yours to the bed, chest pressed to yours. He pulls out at the last second, cock sliding through the hinge of your thigh, cum spurting hot against your stomach. He doesn’t seem to care about the mess he’s making of you both, his entire body covering yours as he shudders his way through it.

It feels like it lasts forever. His limbs go taut and then loose, his breath quickening and then slowing against the shell of your ear. You don’t know what else to do except hold him through it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, one hand finding his hair once more. It’s like his release is chasing the pollen from his system, his superhuman body returning to his brand of normal. He babbles through some of it, grunts and moans and something that sounds almost like your name murmured in your ear.

You just hold him.

Eventually, he seems to come back to himself. You’re loathe to admit you’re revelling in the feel of him against you, the way his hands are tangled in your hair against his pillows. The weight of him is…it’s nice. It’s really fucking nice.

It’s too nice.

You wait a few minutes, wait for him to find his bearings, to peel himself away from you, but it never comes. He’s a solid weight on top of you, and while you’ve been listening to his erratic breathing, waiting for it to even out, you realize that it’s gone…slow. He’s asleep.

“Mig,” you murmur, barely above a whisper, tugging softly at his hair. Nothing. Not so much as a twitch. He’s dead to the world, his slow breaths turning to quiet snores in your ear. Carefully, inch by inch, you slide your way out from under him. You freeze when he rolls onto his side, his breath hitching for a moment, but it evens out again and you slip off the edge of his bed.

Your clothes are toast, the shreds of fabric scattered on the floor of the lab, so you slip into his closet, finding a t-shirt that’s way too big for you. You definitely don’t inhale the scent that clings to it as you slip it over your head.

Your steps are quiet as you pad back into his bedroom, leaned up on your toes as you peer at him. Still asleep, hasn’t so much as moved from the spot you left him. You draw closer, your fingers curled around the hem of his t-shirt.

He doesn’t move an inch as you reach for his wrist, easily slipping the watch off his wrist and replacing it with your own. The too-big band of his adjusts to your size as you close the latch around your wrist, turn on your heel, and scurry from the room, through the lab, shooting a web up at the ceiling and launching yourself up to the next floor, the level your room is on.

You don’t make a sound as you pack your bag, reluctantly shrugging out of Miguel’s t-shirt to put your suit on, stuffing it into your bag with handfuls of clothes, whatever random shit your muddled mind has decided you need to take with you.

It felt too nice.

You know what would happen, you’ve decided, if you stay. You’d drift off, there in his bed, enveloped by his broad frame, half-drunk off the scent of him. You’d get the best sleep of your life, and when you woke the next morning, he’d be there, staring down his nose at you, the desperate man that had pulled pleasure from your body like it was his damn day job replaced with the grumpy fuck that plucked your last nerve like a guitar string.

The problem was that you knew exactly what he’d say to you:

This doesn’t mean anything.

The problem is that you’ve grown to care too much for him, grumpy, desperate, and all things in between.

Lyla makes an appearance as you sling your bag over your shoulder, keying in the universe you want to jump to, Miguel’s watch not locked out the same way yours is. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

You lift a brow as she cocks her digital hip at you. “You want me to answer that? So you can tell me I’m full of shit?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Can AIs make promises?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Technically speaking.”

“Don’t tell him where I am,” you ask, pleading. “Please?”

“He’ll find out anyway,” she tells you, shaking her head, heart-shaped glasses slipping down her nose. Her eyes are big as she stares at you over the rims. “He’s smarter than you give him credit for. I know he’s a grumpy asshole ninety-nine percent of the time, but he—”

“Lyla, please.”

She sighs, sliding the glasses back up. “He won’t hear it from me.”

“Thank you.”

The portal crackles to life, that familiar tug in your stomach as you step toward it. Lyla fades from view as you take another step, and you ignore the echo of Miguel’s voice calling your name, and step through completely.

#my fics #disobedient #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel

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socialistexan · 1 year

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What's missing from the "regret rate" number is the reason people regret it. It overwhelmingly usually due to aesthetic reasons or social pressure.

It's extremely rare that a person gets some form of gender affirming surgery and then later realizes they are not transgender and fully detrans (and these people deserve all of our love and support, if anyone knows what it's like to live in the wrong gender it's us). It's even rarer that one of these detrans people go on to join a reactionary movement to try to eliminate trans people, yet they get amplified more than anyone else in society. That 1% of a 1% of a 1%? That's who is being listened to.

I really need cis people to understand how difficult it is to get gender affirming surgery in this country. It takes literal years to even be considered for it.

Cards on the table, I'm in the process right now for getting bottom surgery. I have been hormones for over 2 years. The minimum requirement is 1 year, but that rarely happens. I've had to be evaluated by two different psychiatrists and I'll need to see them again to get a letter saying they cleared me (and they're only good for 1 calendar year). On top of that, I contacted a surgeon for my first initial consultation, but isn't scheduled until October. And that's just the first visit! It takes months after that to even schedule the surgery.

You don't really go through that whole process unless you are extremely sure.

No one, especially not a child, is walking into a gender clinic and walks out same day with hormones, a hysterectomy, a membership card.

But I'll meet this Republican congressman halfway through. You can ban transition related surgery for people under 26 is you ban any and all surgery or medical care that can permanently alter someone in any way. No heart surgery. No life saving amputations. No chemo. (I would say no vaccines, but this is a MAGA Republican we're talking about). Did you know Tylenol if taken too long can cause stomach bleeding and damage you long term? So no Tylenol.

But why stop there? Shoes can give you long lasting foot or back issues, so that's gotta be banned, too. Sunscreen? You're applying a chemical your child so they'll """be healthier"""?? Yeah, right, groomer.

Ugh. I'm just so tired.

#trans #transgender #nonbinary #lgbtq #lgbt

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6esiree · 1 month

Text

Husk x GN! Reader: The Hazbin Hotel Group Chat (NSFW)

Summary: Kind of a part 2 to the last one? Reader sends an embarrassing sticker of Husk in the group chat and they refuse to delete it. Things escalate from there on.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, penetration, uh idk what else to include bc this is the first time I’ve written NSFW content. Anyway, MINORS PLEASE DO NOT READ!!!

—————

You: *Sends a sticker of Husk smiling that day Lucifer visited the hotel*

Sir Pentious: *Reacts with a laughing emoji*

Angel Dust: how did u do that wtf ??? i want to send one too.

You: Just go to a pic in ur gallery and touch and hold whatever u want a sticker of. Easy.

Angel Dust: *Sends a sticker of Fat Nuggets* omg i love this !!

Husk: When did you take that. I look like shit. Delete it.

Angel Dust: honey, dont. im gonna save that as a sticker bc thats so funny LOL.

You: *Replies to Husk* Skill issue.

Charlie: *Starts hearting everyone’s messages*

Husk: *Replies to You* What does that even mean?

You: *Ignores Husk* Look Angel, this is u. *Sends a link to a video on Sinstagram*

Angel: period.

Husk: What the fuck. How do I leave the group chat.

Vaggie: If I gotta deal with reading this shit, so do you, Husk.

You: *Replies to Husk* Wait NOOOO!!! I’m sorry. Pls forgive me :(

Husk: No.

You: *Sends the sticker of Husk smiling again* I take that back then.

—————

As you quietly giggled to yourself in your room, continuing to send funny stickers under your duvet, the doorknob suddenly rattled, instantly alarming you. Before you could even think about checking who was trying to get in, however, somebody lifted the covers. You shivered as the cold hit your skin, gasping when you saw who had come into your room uninvited.

“Hey, what the fuck? Husk!” You screeched, rolling around and clutching your phone to your chest, practically cocooning around it with your limbs.

“Delete it!” Husk said, pouncing on you and effortlessly flipping you over.

You unlocked your legs and wrapped them around the cat-demon’s hips, consequently forcing your crotches together as you flipped him over. His eyes widened and his pupils shrunk as you changed your positions—or that’s what you thought.

Anyway, you took advantage of the fact that you had caught Husk by surprise, throwing your phone down the side of your bed. It was situated right against the wall, so if he really wanted it, he’d have go through all the dust and clutter you had.

“Ha! Good luck getting it now,” You said, pinning his arms on either side of his head.

“Fuck,” Husk said, which you assumed was his response to what you just said.

Again, assumed, because you were fucking stupid. It took a certain something growing underneath you to understand the situation you had inadvertently designed.

Your face flushed in embarrassment as Husk’s length slotted perfectly against your crotch, but you did not move. You were horrified, for lack of a better word. He was your friend…that and he was also way older than you, even though age functioned differently in Hell than on Earth.

Still, this was a difficult situation the two of you had stumbled upon, and apparently, neither of you were interested in making the next move. Although, you were secretly hoping that Husk would do something, especially because you suddenly ached for him.

When he didn’t move, you felt your heart sink in disappointment. You also felt kind of ashamed for letting such carnal desires triumph over the need to preserve your friendship, which you had struggled to build in the first place.

“I, uh—I’m sorry,” You suddenly said, loosening your grip on Husk’s wrists, but not exactly letting go. “I didn’t mean to…you know, do this.”

He blinked as he processed your words, but he only acted when he felt your warmth receding, grabbing ahold of you and caging you underneath him. This whole going back and forth thing was really making you dizzy.

“Fuck, don’t apologize,” Husk said, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

The action elicited a moan from you, and, oh, did Husk enjoy that.

“I felt how you twitched right against me, baby doll,” Husk’s lips moved sensually against your neck, causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

“If I knew a sticker of you fake-smiling would lead to this, I would have sent it sooner,” You breathed out, reaching out and grabbing ahold of his suspenders, forcing him closer to you.

“I ain’t giving you shit ‘til you delete it, though,” Husk chuckled, playfully nipping the skin on your neck before withdrawing completely.

Your eyes widened as he said that. That fucking bastard! You had to hand it to him, though.

“You can’t be serious!” You whined, chasing after him as he leaned back and sat on his knees.

“Get your phone, delete the sticker, and I’ll fuck you ‘til you can’t walk anymore,” Husk grinned at you, his sharp teeth shining in the dim light of your room. “Sound good?”

You stared at him, but just for a moment. Within a few seconds, you were off the bed, pulling the wooden frame away from the wall with a strength you never knew you had. Husk fell back onto the mattress when you did so, watching on in disbelief as you located your phone quickly.

“Here, look! I’m deleting it right now,” You hopped onto the bed, panting as you showed him your phone, “See? It’s gone.”

Husk removed his hat and carded his claws through his hair, which you had only ever seen on pictures from his time as an Overlord. As good as he looked, you could only whine in embarrassment because he was suddenly laughing.

“Shit, I’m sorry, it’s just—“ Husk said between bouts of laughter, “Never knew someone who wanted to be fucked this bad by me.”

You tossed your phone aside and grabbed ahold of his suspenders once more, shutting him up with a kiss. Husk was still laughing, but the more your lips moved against one another, the sound of saliva being exchanged flooding the room, the less funny he began to find the situation.

“Ah, fuck! Husker—oh, please.”

Hours later, Husk had your face plush against the mattress, a paw buried in your hair to keep you there. You just wouldn’t shut up, but could he blame you? No, not when his length was gliding in and out of you at a delicious pace, your hole squelching because of the several times he had finished inside of you.

“Almost there, babydoll,” Husk rasped from behind you, “Can you handle one more?”

At this point, you were starting to ache, but the way Husk pounded into you when he was close was addicting. His other paw had a tight grip on your hipbone, too, squeezing hard enough to draw blood every time your hole clenched around him. In short, yes you could handle one more load.

“You’re doing so good for me.”

Husk let go of your hair, his paw sliding down your scalp and wrapping around your neck. As his thrusts became erratic, he encouraged you to sit up on your knees, which you happily did. He slid his other paw under your thigh, hiking your leg up and pounding into you in a new position.

“Still gotta delete that photo of me,” Husk said into your ear, his face proceeding to fall into your neck, “You said you got the stickers out of your gallery—I remember.”

“T-Then why did you—oh—go ahead and fuck me knowing that?” You asked, gasping as Husk thrusted up into you particularly hard with that question.

“Couldn’t—fuck—wait.”

Just like that, you came with a loud cry, his words making you snap. Feeling the way your hole clenched around him, Husk’s hips began to stutter. You savored the groan that escaped his throat as he emptied himself inside of you one last time, including the way his length throbbed, obviously sensitive.

The two of you passed out on your bed immediately after that—well, more like Husk, because you had to clean up a bit down there first. When you returned from your short trip to the bathroom, your bed frame was back against the wall and Husk was hugging one of your pillows, tail swishing back and forth and wings slightly fluttering.

As you approached the cat-demon, you swore you heard him…purring? Could Husk really purr? Slowly, you crawled into your bed, and as you laid down next to him, you were able to confirm that he was indeed purring. While the sound was heavenly, healing a part of your soul you never knew needed healing, having Husk nuzzle into your chest was just God-sent.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk x reader #husk x reader smut #angel dust #vaggie #sir pentious #charlie morningstar #husk

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sturniololoco · 3 months

Note

Could u do a Colby Brock x sturnilio triplets sister? Like shes a part of the triplets channel and goes with them to Collab with Sam and Colby

Are you Scared?

Colby Brock x Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS)

Warnings: Kissing, ghosts, random shit, etc.

Note: Kinda set from the collab but some event r out of order, might do a part two, let me know

SLS's POV

Today was the day I've been looking forward to for months:

My triplet brothers and I are going to film with Sam and Colby!

I've been "stalking" their account since we got the invite, and I must admit, their channel is pretty cool, not to mention Colby, who just so happens to be very good-looking.

I got ready, wearing a pair of black cargo pants with a cropped baby tee for the occasion. I put my hair into an elegant slicked-back bun, making sure everything was perfect.

"Hurry up SLS/N! I gotta pee!" Yelled Chris's sleepy voice from outside of our hotel bathroom.

rolling my eyes, I unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, lightly punching his arm in the process.

"Okay, cutie! I see you!" Nick said as I walked out of the bathroom and sat next to him on the bed as he put his shoes on.

I smiled at him, grabbing my airforces to slide on as we waited for Matt and Chris to get ready.

"Alright! Who's ready to get gohstified?"Nick asked once were driving to the haunted hotel.

I laughed at his choice of words while Chris and Matt cheered from the front seat.

Leaning over, I snapped a quick selfie with Nick, mentally reminding myself to post it to my Instagram when the collab was posted.

As we pulled up to the hotel, I could tell that people thought it was haunted. The place just screamed old, scary, and ghost-filled.

I felt nervous butterflies erupt in my stomach as we walked through the threshold of the hotel's front door.

"Hey, guys!" I heard a voice say.

I could tell it was Sam's since we've watched about 30+ hours of their channel in the past week.

We smiled as we walked over to them, my brothers dabbing him up as I gave him a polite side hug. He told us to follow him so we could go find Colby.

But when he said his name, I got butterflies again, but I don't think they were scary ones.

Weird.

"What's up, you guys!" Colby said as we met him in the main lobby sitting area.

And I was right, he was very good-looking, even more so in person.

My brothers performed the same actions as they did with Sam, dabbing him up casually, and talking with them about how excited they were.

But I felt my face get hot as I wrapped my arm around Colby's midsection for a side hug. And the height difference was so extreme that he had to lean down to wrap his long, muscular arm around my shoulders.

as I walked back to stand next to Nick, I looked back at him to see him looking at me, with a slight smile on his lips.

My face was officially as red as a tomato.

Colby's POV

I knew the triplets had a little sister, but I had no idea that they had a little sister who was hot as fuck and had a great sense of style.

She was so perfect in every way, from her slicked-back hair to the shoelaces on her airforces.

She gave me a side hug in greeting and I had to lean down to wrap my arm around her perfect shoulders.

I was kind of upset as she let go to stand with her brothers, but she looked at me on her way there, her cheeks perfectly pink with a small smile playing on her lips.

She might not of been able to see it from the outside, but on the inside I was smiling like an idiot.

We started with a tour from the nice lady who worked at the front desk. She did a very good job interacting with the camera, as well as flirting with Chris.

That left me enough time to stand behind the camera, which just so happened to be where SLS/N was standing.

From "stalking" the triplet's YouTube channel, I could tell she was a little camera shy, hence why she didn't appear in a whole bunch of their videos.

But all the same, she came. She's now walking behind Sam who had the camera on the tour guide and her brothers.

Halfway through, she stopped to look at a painting, letting the others walk a little ahead of her. I stopped too, and decided to take my chances.

"You like this one?" I asked her, hands behind my back while I stood next to her, admiring her as she admired the picture.

She turned her head, looking a little startled as her cheeks started to turn pink.

Fucking adorable.

"oh-I, uh... guess it just caught my eye." She said, adding a cute little giggle to the end of her excuse.

I couldn't help but smile at her, just her presence alone was enough to make my chest flutter.

we began walking side by side as we caught up with the others.

"Are you having fun so far?" I asked her, trying to make the silence less awkward.

"Oh my gosh, yes! when I heard I got so excited!" She said, turning her body slightly to look at me.

I smiled at her again, happy that she was happy to be here.

SLS/N's POV

I was honestly so happy that Colby stopped to talk with me. He must have noticed that I shied away from the YouTube videos and came to talk with me.

We caught up with the others as the tour guide left, right beside a picture of a little girl with faded, green skin.

sam explained that we were all going to put candy on the frame as Colby got out a bag of candy from their backpack.

Everyone grabbed one as he held the bag open, then set them on the frame.

I was last, reaching to grab a strawberry-looking candy from the bag As I pulled my hand out, I brushed his, earning another red face from me.

I looked up at him with nervous eyes, but he looked down at me, giving me a smile while whispering,

"You're okay. Go put your candy up there."

I instantly obeyed, following his orders as he put his candy next to mine.

"oh my gosh! This is a great picture for the photo dump SLS/N! Get together with Colby real quick!" Nick said, whipping out his phone.

Colby and I looked at each other stunned for a moment before wrapping our arms around each other in a side hug, leaning into each other to pose for the camera.

I could feel the muscles in his torso and back as we smiled, making my heart flutter and my face turn pink,

again.

Colby's POV

I felt bad putting my hand on SLS/N's bare torso for the picture, but her arm around my back caused the baby tee she was wearing to slide up, exposing a little bit of her perfect frame.

Her cheeks turned pink once again as we pulled apart, smiling at each other.

Once we were done, Sam began explaining the elevator game.

Once Matt and Sam began their journey up, Nick, Chris, SLS/N, and I were supposed to start our own challenge, but then SLS/N spoke.

"Is there a bathroom in this place?" She said, looking around slightly.

"yea, there's one down the hall, I'll show you if you want," I said, mentally cursing myself, knowing we had a job to do.

She gave me a small smile as she followed me down the hall and back to the main sitting area of the lobby.

"it's right in there, just walk to the right," I said, pointing to the women's side of the bathroom.

"By myself?!" She asked, fiddling with her fingers slightly.

"I laughed under my breath.

"Well, seeing as I'm a guy, I can't really go with you, now can I?" I said to her, feeling the goofy smile spread across my face.

"I uh don't really have to pee anymore actually, you can go through." She said leaning against the wall, trying to look casual.

It didn't work. She looked completely terrified of going into the bathroom alone. She was still picking at her nails and her face had gone bright red.

But now I decided to use this to my advantage.

SLS/N's POV

Colby walked over to me and rested his forearm on the wall above my head. I could smell his musky, warm scent as he leaned in closer.

"Are you scared?" He whispered, his hot breath fanning over my face.

A smirk was playing over his perfect lips, knowing exactly what I wanted him to do next.

I nervously shook my head yes at his question, not knowing what else to do as my face burned hotter than the sun.

At this point, he was smiling lustfully at me, only leaning in closer.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." He said in his husky voice, finally leaning in and closing the gaps between our mouths.

The kiss was soft and sweet. Warm and protecting. Our mouths moved in sink with each other and his hands grabbed my sides, no longer hesitant to touch my bear skin.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead on mine. Just as it looked like he was about to say something, he quickly pulled away and sped down the hallway.

I stood there, shocked, but then regained my surroundings and chased after him.

Just as I was about to say something, we rounded the corner to see my brothers, Sam and Matt back from their trip, and the camera pointed at us.

the red light on,

recording.

Lemme know if you want a part two!!!???

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

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freyyzu · 1 year

Text

I LOVE YOU’S

In which there are a thousand ways to tell you “I love you,” but saying it is still my favorite.

a/n; because i love them. and also because every time they say “i love you,” in-game i start kicking and screaming from embarrassment. not proof-read or edited because it’s too long and i wanted to be done already aksjd

LUCIFER —

Lucifer has always been openly honest with how he feels for you.

Words of appreciation aren’t considered strangers in your relationship, and there’s not a day that passes by where they’re not exchanged.

Simple ‘thank you’s when you hand one another an extra pen or paper.

Brief kisses and ‘good morning’s when you pass each other in the hallways of the House of Lamentation.

Gentle reminders to ‘sleep well,’ when you know there’s a long day ahead tomorrow.

He’s always been a person reserved in showing you physical affection in public, but you know more than anyone that he cares more deeply than he’ll allow anyone to see.

Lucifer was used to working for long hours, oftentimes going the whole day without leaving his room — today just so happened to be one of those days.

It’s late evening when he finishes going through all the papers that have piled on his desk. A full 24 hours without running into any of his brothers or even taking a break to eat.

It’s strange, he thinks. Typically when he works he could still hear the ruckus outside. Whether that be Levi chasing down Mammon for not paying him back for something or Satan yelling at Beel to stop clearing out the kitchen before any of them have time to cook a proper meal.

With curious steps, he makes his way downstairs, hoping to see what his brothers are up to and sneak in a late night snack whilst he was at it. To his surprise, the only thing he finds is an empty, quiet house, and you standing in the kitchen preparing a tray of food.

“Ah, Lucifer!” The way your expression lights up upon seeing him makes it feel as if all the stress from the past few hours have melted away. “Are you done with your work? I was just about to bring you something to eat since you missed out on your meals.”

Lucifer doesn’t find the need to respond, or perhaps he’s simply too tired to, all he does is walk over to your side and wraps his arms around your waist. Immediately, he feels your hand come up to rest on his head, gently rustling his hair.

“You did good today.”

“Mmhm.” He eases into your touch, “I love you.”

Your laughter tickles his hands, “I love you as well. Now c’mon, you gotta eat. I’m sure you must be starving.”

MAMMON —

There’s never a day in which Mammon wouldn’t deny being in love with you.

He’s lucky that you find it endearing above all else, otherwise he would’ve suffered a few bruises already.

Because he finds it difficult to tell you how much he loves you, he decides it’s probably best to show you, instead.

He holds your hand on the walk to RAD, making sure to tell you that it’s simply ‘for your protection,’ even though you both know you’re more than capable of handling yourself now.

That cake you had offhandedly mentioned wanting to try shows up in front of your door the next day along with a very embarrassed demon holding on to it, claiming how he ‘just so happened to get lucky,’ even though the lines for the bakery are known to span for three hours long.

Mammon can’t seem to focus.

Perhaps it was the boring lesson plans that he had to get through, or maybe it was Lucifer’s threat of once again stringing him from the ceiling if he failed another test looming over his head, but the demon’s thoughts were only fixated on you. You, who’s currently sitting right beside him, pointing at blurry words on a page and spouting nonsense about some history notes he’s going to forget three seconds later.

“And so… Mammon?” You look up at him curiously. “If you’re tired we can—”

“I love you.”

The words leave his lips before he could even process he was saying it, or even why he was saying it. There’s nothing romantic about your situation right now. There are papers scattered all across your coffee table, eraser shavings lost within your carpet, and three books open, none of which he has paid attention to. If anything, this was the absolute worst moment he could’ve picked to say that phrase.

You blink.

And then he blinks.

You turn red.

And then he turns red.

“Ah…”

“AHHHHH,” he covers his face, flailing his hand wildly. “Ignore that! I didn’t say anything!”

He’s ready to get up and run out of the room, failing the test and being strung up again be damned, if not for you grabbing his arm and preventing him from moving anywhere.

“Say it again,” you insist, leaning in closer and giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, ones that you know he can’t resist saying ‘no,’ to. He caves, as you were sure he would, “I… I love you. I love ya’ lots, okay?!”

If smiles could reach past the eyes, he was sure yours would. “I love ya’ lots, too, Mammon.”

LEVI —

Levi would rather hide in his room for a hundred years than ever say that he loves you.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to, but every time he tries he chickens out.

Thankfully, you have the patience of a saint, and he couldn’t be more grateful that you haven’t tried to pry those three words out of him (yet).

Still, Levi does what he can to show you he cares in his own way. Whether that be buying games of your favorite genre, or binging your favorite series just so he has more things to talk with you about, anything else will do.

Though it makes him feel extra bad whenever you say it so easily and he’s left to be a stuttering mess.

Levi sucks in a deep breath.

He hardens his nerves, counts to three, and then tries his best to vocalize how he feels. “I…” He pauses, eye twitching from nervousness. “I- I- I CAN’T DO IT!”

A loud groan escapes his lips as he crouches onto the floor of his bedroom, covering his face with his hands from embarrassment. He’s been at this for days now, looking at Henry through the tank and trying with every nerve in his body to just get those three words up and out of his throat to no avail.

Every time he thinks he’s going to get it your face pops up and instantly all his confidence disappears into thin air.

Levi sucks in another deep breath.

One more time, just one more time, he’ll get it this time.

If there was ever a time for the phrase “fake it ‘til you make it,” to be used, this would be the time. With newfound confidence, he pushes himself up to his feet again and stares directly at Henry, who looks back curiously.

“I-” he scrunches up his face and forces the words lodged in his throat out in a tiny squeak. “I love you.” It’s so quiet, and he barely manages to get your name out afterward, but he did it!

He did it!!

He—!

“I love you too, Levi!”

“AKJSDHJKSFGFGKJ????!?!”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could vocalize a keysmash like that.” You’re laughing, he’s on the floor, face completely red and regretting all his life choices, and you’re laughing. “Sorry for entering without your permission, but I tried knocking a few times and no one answered.”

The best thing you could do for him right now is to stay away, get out of his room even, while he waits for the floor to consume him whole, but instead, you walk towards him, stopping just inches away from his face.

“I couldn’t hear you very well the first time. Could you say it again?”

SATAN —

If simply being in one another’s company and enjoying each other’s presence is considered a way of saying ‘I love you,’ then no one does it better than Satan.

He doesn’t really find the need to say the words very much, but when he does, it’s filled with so much softness and care.

He’ll also say it the most when it’s just the two of you, away from prying eyes.

It’s something special, only for your ears, something only you get to hear.

The best moments in life are the ones where you get to spend them with your loved ones, and for Satan, it was no different; a book in his hand, you in his arms, a blanket thrown loosely to cover your legs as your head rests on his shoulder.

It's been two hours now, two hours of uninterrupted reading time — no brothers barging in his room looking for you, no text messages blowing up his notifications, no uninvited guests knocking on the doors of the House of Lamentation — there wasn’t much else he could ask for right now.

“‘And so, the man looks at the person standing in front of him, the person he’s respected and cared for the most in the world, and holds out a hand. Whatever it is that you need, whether it be riches, luck, or power, I’ll be there to deliver it right into your hands.’”

You shift in his arms, and he pauses his reading for only a moment to make sure you’re comfortable before continuing.

“‘And what if I said that the only thing I desire right now was neither riches, nor luck, nor power, but happiness — happiness with you? What would you deliver unto me, then?’”

“‘I would tell you then that I love you. That I would deliver to you: me. Mind, body, and soul.’”

Satan chuckles, “you stole my line.”

You smile, blinking up at him innocently. “Then just say it again.”

His eyes scan over the words once more, “I would tell you then,” he places the book down and cups your cheeks, pressing your foreheads together, his steady gaze holding onto yours. “That I love you. That I would deliver to you: me. Mind, body, and soul.”

ASMO —

No one tells you that they love you more than Asmo does. To him, saying he loves you is just another ring thrown into an endless pool of compliments.

‘You look so cute today!’ He’ll tell you the moment he spots you with a new outfit on. ‘Are you using a new lipstick?’ He notices every small change that you make to your appearance.

It makes you undeniably happy, of course, but it also makes it hard to differentiate from when he’s just being from when he’s being genuine.

Though if you ask him about it, he’ll be more offended than you could ever imagine. Everything he says to you is genuine, how could you ever think otherwise?

There’s been something strained about your relationship with Asmo lately, and unfortunately for him, he can’t seem to figure out what it is.

His compliments don’t have much of an effect anymore. The cute blush you seem to always adorn when he tells you how cute you look doesn’t appear, and every time he gives you a kiss he sees for a fraction of a section that a frown adorns your lips.

“Now, will you please tell me what it is that I’m doing that’s making you sad? I can’t bare to see you frowning anymore.”

Today, he plans to get to the bottom of it — and the first step was to corner you.

You’re laying on his bed with him on top of you, arms caging you in to prevent you from running off. Still, the both of you know full well that if you really had any intention on escaping then you could easily use your pact.

“I just…” You break away from his gaze, embarrassed, mumbling something incoherent under your breath.

“One more time?”

You turn even redder, “I don’t know… what it is you really like about me.”

Asmo blinks.

What do you mean you don’t know what he likes about you? Does he not tell you every day in full detail? So much so that his brothers would actively complain about how annoying and overbearing he is? He sits up, and pulls you forward to face him.

“I love your eyes,” he begins, “I love how they light up every time you get excited about something. I love your personality, how kind you are to everyone, even if they won’t show that same kindness back. I love your determination, how you never give up even when things don’t go your way.” He reaches out to cup both of your cheeks. They’re warm. “I love how rosy your cheeks get whenever I compliment you.”

“I-” you stutter, and his grin widens. “I think I get it now, please stop!”

“Stop?” He muses, “but what about my compliments? I think I deserve that much after you’ve been avoiding me for a week now!”

You glare at him, no doubt just wanting to end this conversation already. “I love you.”

Oh, that’s just unfair. You can’t just pull the ‘I love you,’ card out on him like that and get away scot free — but you do, and he lets you. “I love you, too, cutie!” The both of you once again crash onto the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around your neck. “Don’t you ever forget that!”

BEEL —

If you looked up the definition of ‘gentle giant,’ in the dictionary, Beel’s face would appear.

Despite his larger stature, there’s no one more willing to lend you a helping hand, whether you really need it or not. He just wants to make your life a little bit easier.

To Beel, ‘I love you’s don’t need to have any special meaning behind them. He simply says it because he wants to, whether you’re doing mundane things, or going through something eventful.

He just wants to remind you from time-to-time, and you enjoy doing the same.

“You aren’t mad at me?”

“Hm?” Beel hums, glancing at you, resting on his back. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I made you leave fangol practice early?”

His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your thighs, shifting you into a slightly more secure position (not like he would let you fall either way). “It wasn’t your fault.” If anything it was his.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He was the one who had gotten distracted in the middle of their practice match and turned right as he threw the ball and ended up almost hitting you in the face. Thankfully you had stepped out of the way in time, but ended up tripping over the bench and sprained your ankle, leading Beel to call off early to take care of you and help you back home.

You had insisted that you were okay and that just a bit of ice and bandages would be enough, but he insisted. With his genuine concern in wanting to help, and the notion that he might’ve been the one caused you to get hurt, there was no way you could have denied him.

And so, here you were, arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you back to the House of Lamentation, piggyback style.

There’s a rumble on his back, and he hears your quiet giggles. “Thank you for always taking such good care of me, I love you, Beel.” Your thanks are followed by a quick beck to the back of his head, and he wishes he could just move you into a different position right now and return the favor.

Unfortunately, he can’t without risking further injury to your leg, and so he settles for pressing a kiss to the side of your arm. “Of course I do, I love you after all.”

BELPHIE —

Will tease the living daylights out of you to show his affection.

If you want him to say ‘I love you,’ you’re gonna have to jump through three rings of fire and let him use you has a pillow for minimum three days first.

Even then, he’ll only say it if he’s in the mood, and probably after you’ve already fallen asleep so you can’t hear it.

“What do you mean? I already told you yesterday,” he’s having way too much fun with this. “When? While you were asleep, of course.”

“You’re terrible.”

He chuckles at your comment, simply basking in the way your hands brush through his hair.

So what if its been two weeks of him teasing you just for you to finally hear him say that he loves you? It was fun (to him) and that’s all that matters. Besides, it wasn’t as if he’s never said it before, he just wanted to make it a little game this time around.

“You say that, but here you are.”

“Well,” you brush a strand of hair away from his nose. “Even if you are an ass this feels nice for me as well so it’s okay.”

“So it’s alright for me to never say it again?” He teases, knowing it’ll just push your buttons further.

“Don’t push your luck.”

It’s the dead of the night when you finally fall asleep and somehow, Belphie was still awake. He pokes your cheek, stifling his laughter when you shift uncomfortably and mumble something akin to ‘that tickles’ before proceeding to bury yourself further into his chest.

He likes this, he thinks. It’s fun to tease you, and it’s even more fun knowing that you’re just playing along with him when you could full-well just use your pact to make him say it already. Though, he’s sure that if he mentions that you’ll retaliate saying it’s more genuine to hear him say it without using the pact.

“I love you.” He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

You don’t need to know he’s been saying it every night.

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m-musings · 3 months

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okokokok, i LOVE how you wrote the overwatch boys, and I have a kind of long-winded request for Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, and (if you write for him) Ramattra:

their s/o was previously a test subject for Talon experiments, something they have nightmares about. how would the boys react to their partner having one of said nightmares and trying to attack the person trying to wake them up.

ik this is kinda specific, but thank you if you write it! ♡♡♡♡

A/n: oooo this is a good request, let's hope my angsty writing chops are up to par bcuz i really hope this lives up to what you want (hcs under the cut!)

Warnings: general angst, accidental physical violence, mentions & implications of past torture (also op doesn't really know how to write nightmares/night terrors asdfghjkl) Word Count:1586

Headcanons: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo and Ramattra with a Former Talon Test Subject S/O (Separate)

Cassidy:

When Cassidy awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of you fiercely muttering at no one, its safe to say he's concerned.

He listens for a moment as you make alarmed noises, trying to discern what exactly is going on.

After turning over to flip on the light, he glances over at your sleeping form thrashing around with your brow furrowed in terror.

"N-no... get a...away f-from me..." Cassidy hears you say clearly, getting more worried by the second.

As he begins to reach over to try and rouse you from your slumber, the volume of your voice grows from a to an earsplitting shriek.

As you keep screaming, you start becoming combative, slapping and punching at Cass while somehow still asleep.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Jus' h-hold on a darn second here!" He says as he tries to block your attacks by grabbing your hands.

"No! NO! Let me out!" You wail as tears start streaming down your cheeks.

"Darlin', it's a dream, you gotta wake up! I'm here, just open your eyes!"

Debating between forcing you to wake up and just continuing to reassure you and talk you down from the fear, he decides that the latter is probably going to be the safest for both of you.

After a several minutes long struggle, you slowly stop trying to fight Cole as your once frantic breathing begins to return to its normal pace.

Your tired eyes begin to blink open as the last bit of panic leaves your body in a few small gasps. When you fully regain consciousness, Cassidy sighs in relief as realization begins to sink into your thoughts.

"Are you okay, what the hell happened there?!" Questions Cole as he smooths his hands over your hair.

Choking out a small sob, you gently grasp his bicep to try and ground yourself as more tears begin to fall from your eyes.

"Cass, I-I'm sorry... I- I was back in Talon and the pain j-just wouldn't stop!"

His heart drops at the mention of the evil organization, knowing what kind of awful treatment you went through while kept there.

"I tr-tried to get away but I just.... couldn't! It was awful!" You whisper as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Darlin' I'm so sorry... I am so sorry..." Cole responds faintly before carefully pulling you into a hug.

The room grows still again for a moment, with only the sound of your hushed weeps filling the air.

"I don't wanna go back, please don't let them take me!" You cry into Cole's shoulder as he holds you close.

"No, no, you won't. I swear that as long I'm breathin', I will always make sure you never have to go through that ever again."

Genji:

Genji is all too familiar with nightmares. During the first couple years after his confrontation with Hanzo, he would very frequently have them. He's been through that whole song and dance a million times before.

Which is the reason he immediately knows what's happening when he wakes to the sound of your screams next to him.

He rushes to throw your shared quilt off and make sure you're okay, getting punched once or twice in the process.

After the nightmares pass and you calm down enough to speak, Genji is right there to comfort you.

"It's alright, my love, it is over now... Are you okay?" He questions as he holds one of your palms in his.

You shake your head no as you take several sharp breaths in and out.

"I was there again... in that-that godforsaken lab with fucking Moira prodding at me like cattle! It felt li-like it would never end! I can't go through that again!"

"And you don't have to. I don't know all of what happened to you, but I promise you will never have to face it on your own. I'm here to help you however I'm able to."

As the fearful adrenaline steadily leaves your veins, Genji brings your hand up to his chest so you could feel his heart beating just beneath his cybernetics.

"I love you and will sit here with you as long as you need me too."

With a sad, shaky laugh, you nod and you take your hand back in order to wrap yourself around him.

He does the same in turn as you embrace him ever so slightly tighter before he ushers for you to lay back down together so you can get some much needed sleep.

Pulling the blanket back over your bodies, he scooches in a little closer and begins to hum softly in the hopes of lulling you into a nightmare-less slumber.

Watching as your eyes begin to flutter closed again, he hears you mumble something just before you doze off.

"Thank you, Genji... I love you too."

Hanzo:

Hanzo already has trouble sleeping himself, so when your nightmares come around, he's already wide awake.

As you toss and turn underneath your blanket, he tries to calm you down by running his hand over you head, not caring if he gets hurt by your unintentionaly violent movements.

Once the night-terror ends, you start holding your face in your hands and rock back and forth as Hanzo rubs assuaging circles on your back.

"My dear, what can I do? How do I make the fear stop for now?" The archer inquires as you continue to shake in place.

"I don't know, Han... every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the lights and the wires and the needles... It won't go away no matter how hard I try. I just want them to be gone." You state, anxiously starting to press at your temples.

With a noiseless sigh escaping from his lips, Hanzo moves closer to place an arm across your shoulder and rest his forehead against your head.

"I am sorry for not being there with you. If I were able to change history, I would have gone to great lengths to rescue you."

As you begin to cry at his admission, he places a delicate kiss atop your head.

"I would never ask you to do something that dangerous for me. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you..." You sob out as you bury yourself into Hanzo's side.

Hanzo is quick to wrap his other arm around you, offering a comforting squeeze before ushering you into his lap.

"You wouldn't ever have to ask for my help. I would trade my life for yours if it meant that no more harm would come to you."

Ramattra:

It's uncommon for Omnics to dream- let alone have nightmares- so the first one you have around Ramattra? It comes as a bit of a shock to him.

When he hears you yell, he all but rockets out of his reboot cycle to scan the room for any hidden threats to your safety.

After seeing nobody there but the two of you, he glances down to see you- fast asleep but clawing at the air like a trapped animal scratching at a predator.

He then decides to do a scan of your vitals, just to make sure you aren't in any immediate medical distress. The scan reveals to him that your heartrate and breathing are through the roof.

Just as he's about to cross the room to try and wake you up, you shoot up from your fitful rest with a loud inhale as you slam your hands down onto the mattress below.

Swiftly joining your side on the bed, he cautiously turns your visage towards him as he goes to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

While your eyes try to adjust to the low light of your room, you call out Ramattra's name, receiving a modulated but relaxing shush from his vocalizer.

"Calm yourself, pet, I'm right here. Now, tell me what has happened."

As you take a moment or two to collect yourself and come down from your frenzy, you gaze up to meet the faint glow of his faceplate emitting from his eyes.

"It's Talon; they... tormented me... a long time ago. Had me chained down as a doctor injected chemicals into me before he began flushing them out and started the whole process over again..."

Watching as you barely manage to hold back tears, His joints all seem to freeze in place as fury begins to creep in and take over all his systems.

"They need to suffer for their misdeeds. Who are they?..." He presses, his voice now hauntingly deeper than before .

"I don't know their names, and even if I did, I would do everything in my power to forget them."

An uneasy silence fills the space between you two, staying there for a minute before the large Omnic grunts and lifts you into his arms.

"I am sorry for what you had to go through. Just know that if any pain ever comes your way again, the offenders shall be personally dealt with." Ramattra claims as he rests his faceplate against your jaw.

Relishing in the cool feeling of his metal features against your warm skin, you nod appreciatively before he begins to lightly sway you to and fro.

Watching as you drift back to sleep, Ramattra makes a mental note to hunt down the Talon members who hurt you the next time he meets his allies. He wouldn't and will not stand for the mistreatment of the only human he has ever cared about.

#headcanon #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch imagines #cole cassidy x reader #genji shimada x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #ramattra x reader

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