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sukioyakio · 6 months

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His little Stress Relief

genre: fluff just fluff,(the title doesn’t sound fluffy to me,it probably the amount of amount of smut I read 🤷‍♀️😔🤪💖 Will have some bit of angst

SUMMARY: Sometimes your 6’9 foot tall man can be an little bit clingy at times.

Author note: “I just love me an big Buffy guy being such an clingy and cuddly guy towards their girlfriend (I’m not forgetting about my guys here)anyway I’ve been changing the way how my intro a lot 😭😔🤪.”

ANYway hope you like it.

It was an very busy stressful week for Miguel,everything and everyone was annoying him.The entire spider society was just so stressful to deal with,and when he didn’t have to deal a lot,those stuipd anomaly kept popping up,left and right.

But knowing miguel,he deals with it pushing his body to the limit.He will protect the spider society no matter what,But that doesn’t make him tried and exhausted from working,fighting,yelling at people who get on his skin.The achy scars and bruises on his skin were an pain to deal with.And right now He was in his office or bat cave whatever people says,he was standing on his platform with holograms around.Grumbling about to Lyla to tell some of the spiders that they have an mission to do,and him typing out the information about these anomalies.

peter b Parker who was walking with Jessica drew,they were coming back from their mission,and were going towards to Miguel little bat cave.

“Ughhh,it’s been such a busy week” Peter says in a tired voice,as he stretches his back and his shoulders.

“Oh c’mon now,at least your not the one who has to collect all the mission reports”Jessica says with an annoyed look on her face,sighing at the work that she will have to do later.As she rubs her swollen stomach walking towards Miguel office.

Peter just let out an amused scoff out,as they were walking down the hallway towards the BIG BOSS.

“Don’t you think Miguel would let us slack off for a day!! I haven’t seen my lovely wife and daughter”peter says with a whiny voice,as he made a loud dramatic sigh.

Jessica sigh with a playful smirk on her lips. “Aye man at least after this,we can take a long ass break,cuz my ass need it”She says with a sarcasm,as she let out a chuckle.

Peter suddenly remembered how much Miguel calmed down he was after his wife when Peter asked her if she could come over to talked (helped) him out with Miguel.In which peter had that dorky grin that only means that he had another wonderful idea.

In which Jess turned to look at peter face and saw that grin which in her mind means “he gonna get his ass kick again”,but right before she could say anything to Peter.

“Gotta go bye for now— I’ll be back!” As he zapped off to where Miguel’s wife was.

“DONT do!!— something that will get your ass in the hospital” Jess says in an loud tone but soon lower as she get more closer to Miguel office,she always says that his office is so far away,she rolls her eyes to the back of her head,and letting an scoff out her lips.

She enters Miguel man cave,her heavy but professional steps could be heard from the man who was standing up on his little platform,As she walks in an steady pace and was finally met with Miguel batman era.She stands an few steps ahead but wasn’t quite at the edge of the cliff.She looks up at Miguel,with her one of her hands on her hips and the other one was rubbing her pregnant stomach.

“Ahem” She says loud enough for him to put down his attention from all the work he was doing and putting himself through.Miguel eyes have this dark circles under his eyes,you can tell that this men take his dedication and time for all he does for.But there time where all he takes is to come home to his lovely wife,who his stress reliever.But he does this so people doesn’t have the same fate as him or try to do what he did,nor to do anything that would cause them any harm.

He turned his head towards Jessica,looking down at her,with a sternly expression on his face.He clicked something on his watch to make the platform start moving down towards the ground,very . . . Slowly. very slowly.Jessica wasn’t bothered by it at all,it just meant that she had a time to herself to calm down and free her mind from work.

And in which off letting the platform on the ground nope,he just kept it fairway there,and so he looked at Jess with a sternly and serious expression,and that instantly imitating persona he had.

“Bueno, ¿cómo fue la misión?,and where the hell is Peter”Miguel says in an seriously voice,as one of his eyes brow raises up in question of where would that idiot of the worlds most talkative person you would ever meet,would be possibly be.As he stares at Jess for an good minute before letting out an annoyed sigh,pinching the bridge of his very strong nose,grunting at how much of an goof ball peter is.

“Well I came here to say that the mission was a success,but the part with Peter,better watch out for him and don’t kill him we need him” she says with an playful laugh as she walks out the door with an open smile on her face.

To which Miguel rolls his eyes to back of his head,and went back to work and there he was back working in his bat cave.Calling Layla to inform him about any updates about the anomaly’s,and to inform the other spider in the spider society.Some times layla would be annoying (an tease) to him.But after an hour or so,(peter was having difficulty finding which house is Miguel house) Peter finally came with you into Miguel office,with his cheeky techniques.

Miguel didn’t even get a chance to react to when Peter opened the portal onto his platform.

“Hello!!Big Boss” peter say with a cheerful voice,having a bright smile on his lips.”Look who I brought with him”he says with a warm smile.

The moment he turned around he saw you,with Peter.Holding a worry smile on your face.While peter was standing there with a cheeky expression,Miguel let out an annoyed sigh towards peter.He face was turning more angry then before,his eyes turning the color red.

“¡¡Por qué carajo!!Did you bring my wife here WITHOUT MY DAWN MALDITO permission!” He says with a raging voice,practically shaking the ground,easily making peter gulped down his own saliva.”im soooooooooo getting my ass in an hospital bed” peter said in his head of thoughts.

But luck was on his side for now. . .

“Peter go back doing work I’ll have a little chat with my husband”you said softly as ever to him,with a calmly smile.Giving him a look that gesture for him to leave.In which he did,He left with an awkward chuckle,and he gone.

Now you and Miguel were now alone in his big bat cave.Miguel aromatically regretted for having you see him get angry at his co worker.He hated for you to see him anger,he was insecure about how you felt about him.You words were the light of joy to his ears,but your words could be the ones that made him feel trapped.If he ever told you that he’ll be so vulnerable towards you his wife.Your the thing,the love,the drug,the crave,the addiction that he would never get over.

He was probably over thinking for a while,that he woke up from your reassuring touch.Pulling him to the ground so he could lay down on your thighs.He would do anything for you.

“Until death due us apart”

Now you both are on the floor on Miguel floating platform in silence;comforting silence.

You were sitting upright while patting,scratching, rubbing your hands against Miguel scalp.He looks like a little boy who only wanted to be next to his mama.After a few more minutes of the comfortable silence.You knew that he was very insecure about himself,especially after getting married and even before getting married,when you two were boyfriend and girlfriend,you knew he had some insecurities.

“Miguel I love you . .” You says with a calmly voice,calming him down.

Signal him to talk about what happened during this week

He instantly opened up about what happened at work,and all the exhaustion he endured,and the BS he gotten this week,basically vented about how much work and Be an hero was like a curse and an blessing.

He had that Grumpy Pouty on his beautiful lips,he just an enough of laying on the floor-ahem platform,and So he pulls you down on the floor,as he lays comfortably on tops of you.

You let out a light headed chuckles,He was your big scary,intimidating husband who can break any guys bones,but right now he’s acting very clingy with you.

You let him know that your love him so much,that seeing him like this pains you slowly but deeply in your heart.He was laying on top of your chest,in between of your breast.Letting him melt all his problems away.

“I’m sorry. . .no lady should have to seen what had happened with my co worker” he says with his eyes closed not wanting to be seen vulnerable.

As he continues to mumble apologies,to the point that he says like a whiny child.You couldn’t help but laugh at him being a whiny cringy child.

“What so funny about me apologizing,mhmm cariño”he said to you as he raised his head to look at your eyes. Seeing you laugh,seeing you felt like the world was pause,his body felt so calm.

“Ha-ha,your are my clingy hobby.You could be one whiny old man.” You said with a playfully voice,as you felt him lift your body put you into his laps.You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m not an old man,nor a whiny kid.Im literally just 3 years older then you” Miguel says with a whiny voice,as he rolls his eyes.

You know he love it.You already know that he’s ok,that he is no more tense.

“I still love you gramps” you said as you leaned towards his face to give him a passionate kiss,which he accepted.Love was felt through your body.

as you both end the kiss,leaning on each other forehead.

“I love you” you said softly with a warm smile.

“Yo también” he says softly with a warm smile.

THE END

I hope y’all like it,and I probably suck explaining the positions of them but IM trying 😄 anyway I hope y’all enjoy it,but I low key think I put so much fluff here

THE QOUTE OF THE DAY: by an friend

“THE day can be boring when nothing eventful happens”

✌️

#miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #random thoughts #pls send feedback

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moondirti · 1 year

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animalic (4)

← chapter three // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k summary: things don't go according to plan warnings: enemies to lovers, light bondage, sexual tension, arousal, choking, canon-typical violence, dub-con elements, paralysis, suicidal ideation, self-hatred, angst, miguel o'hara is not nice, no use of y/n notes: y'all. i promise we are getting somewhere. i promise. lmk what you think tho cuz i thrive off comments

“Lyla?”

While you’re – regrettably – unable to make good on your promise to phase through the floor, you catch yourself hoping it splits to swallow you whole instead. It certainly would be a better alternative to the purgatory you currently face.

“Lyla? Come in, Lyla.”

Feeble rays of light filter in through the weathered windows, their reach slowly growing as night surrenders to the wakings of dawn. Variegated motes bob lazily, suspended upon the streams of sun, quivering back and forth between a range of countless colours. Paralysed and splayed atop the frigid, hard ground of the empty store-lot, you try counting them all for lack of anything else to do. Pink, green, orange, gold. You wonder what force chooses the order, whether it’s sequenced to fit some plan of high design.

“¡Ay, coño–”

Slowly, you let yourself scrutinise other things, too. The scent of neglect that permeates the stale air, particularly pungent around the entryway. You trace the yellow-brown mass that runs along the door’s hinge edge, and attribute the vaguely muddy smell to rot. Then, it’s the glint of shattered glass, winking at you from lost corner’s of the room. They look narrow, far too inconvenient to clean out with a standard broom. You revel in the understanding that whoever had been in charge of scouring the wreckage appears to share your habit of quick quitting.

It’s only when your vision begins to water do you divert your attention to the situation at hand. Last you needed to blink, it took half a minute for the command to register, and even longer for the motor neurons in your eyelids to act. By the time you eventually got them closed, you’d already started contemplating whether his venom would be the death of you.

(Lame end to a lame life.)

It didn’t take a genius to figure out, though. You know that, if he wanted to, he could’ve kept imbuing you with the substance until your body was no longer able to perform the basic mechanisms necessary to sustain life. He could have kept his fangs lodged deep into your neck – encroached upon your stuttering veins, bathing in the ichor that flowed – until he felt you go limp, concentrated with his poison. It would have been a denouement to his problems – right there, easy, sandwiched between him and the wall – but it wasn’t. Because he didn’t.

Just like he didn’t let you plummet to your death that day at the quarry, or strangle you while you were unconscious back at HQ.

So, no. It doesn’t take a genius to acknowledge that Miguel O’Hara doesn’t want you dead. As he fiddles with his malfunctioning watch, you endeavour to come up with a divisive list as to why that is.

One: you’ve charmed him. The notion is almost funny enough to elicit a snort, given that you weren’t cast in an immovable anathema.

Two: he’s a good guy. Somehow, this option seems less viable to you than the first.

You find your third prospect slinging from the threads of a fraying memory.

You’d been a student, before – attending college at a reputable institute close to home. It’s easy to forget what it was like most nights: cramped in that two hundred square foot dorm, borderline losing it as you tried to validate your claims on matter-antimatter rockets and their potential contribution to interstellar travel. There were concerns of total annihilation, and sourcing, and an array of other limitations – that which you’d dedicated your academic career to drawing up proposals for. It’s laughable now; the stress and theories blurring together to form a vague picture of your long-lost ambition.

You have a hard time conjuring what exact future you were so hopeful for, but the lamp by your roommate’s bed remains clear in your mind’s eye. Warm-white, comforting. For as long as you were awake, tapping away at a never-ending thesis, she’d work through the latest volume of her beloved murder mystery anthology.

It was the night before your start at an internship with Alchemax that the series came to a close. Her aggravated screams still ring fresh behind the clouded pane of time. You had thrown your pillow at her in a belligerent plea.

(You wanna elaborate?

The suspect behind every case was shot!

So? Isn’t that a good thing?

No, dumbass. It means the detectives fucking lost! They’ll never be able to prove how right they were.)

Admittedly, you know very little about Miguel, but you have an idea of what matters most to him. It’s entirely possible, then, that he refuses to kill you for what your death would do to negate his efforts thus far.

“Oye,”

Your mental traipse is reeled in when the devil himself snaps at you. Steadily, your pupils roll up to look at him.

“I need your day pass.”

You continue to stare. His jaw clenches.

“Because of your little headbutt outside, my watch is busted. My only hope of fixing it is by using the parts of your day pass.”

Is he asking? Does he expect you to respond?

You can’t fool yourself into believing he’s that ignorant.

But Miguel stays on standby, scanning your lax form. He takes in the webs that wrap around your waist, branching out to your thighs and shoulders, restraining your arms behind your back. When his eyes meet yours again, the reluctant question you see glaze over them pushes the recognition to the forefront of your mind.

He is asking.

Or, notifying – making sure you’re aware of what he’s about to do.

God, you wish you could speak. You’ve never come up with so much to say without promptly blurting it out before. Irritation and amusement rip at one another within you, locked in a brutal dogfight fated to have no real winner. How hypocritical of him to pick and choose when your treatment takes priority over his mission; you’re littered in marks that all point to his prior negligence of such subtle humanity. Four stabs above your wrist, a pounding migraine at your temple. If it weren’t for your paralysed stomach, you’re certain you would have regurgitated your innards as consequence to the concussion he’s given you.

But, oh.

How funny would it be if you agreed. To let him discover the harrowing truth for himself.

Deliberately, you muster an affirming blink.

Miguel's weariness escapes him in a heavy sigh, the weight of it etched upon his expression. Thick brows furrow, evidence to his age creasing between them, before he sinks down with a purposeful grace and carefully flips you over. Despite the resentment that festers in your gut, you can’t help but hiss a mental sigh of relief at the service it does to your elbows, which had begun throbbing in response to the pressure that the hardwood floor exerted.

From that point onward, it becomes a guessing game of sorts; you can’t see him, nor are you able to tilt your head and confirm your assumptions as to what he’s doing. Deprived of your most reliable sense, the others strain to fill the gaps in your knowledge, drawing upon every available cue; the sound of his miniscule grunts, the warmth of his skin – that which penetrates through his gloves. You’re alarmed into attempted action when the characteristic rip of his claws equipping pierces the strained air – your body powerless in addressing the adrenaline it secretes – until the spider-man touches his forefinger to your palm.

“Relax.” He all but commands. “I’m just cutting the webs off.”

You’ve no reason to trust him, of course, but you can’t exactly pitch a complaint right now.

(Perhaps it’s in your best interests to ignore how easy he’d been able to read you.)

A few moments of jostling ensue, before he withdraws with a curse. Your arms remain ensnared in the tight restraints, the ache that smarts your skin all too real for the continued predicament to be illusory. An assortment of jokes occur to you.

Can’t get it up?

In your peripheral, you catch him weighing his options. The pause is laden with a sticky indecision – this change in placement, you realise, exacerbates the already difficult task of breathing for you.

While you fixate on that fact, he seems to come to a conclusion. With one swift manoeuvre, he positions himself astride your thighs, straddling the deadened extremities, and reaches forward to push your wrists apart. You’re quick to catch on to his intention, how the arrangement gives him better leverage, yet–

His groyne presses into the swell of your ass, worsening with every bid to sever the webbing. It’s impossible not to notice, especially not when the seam of your jeans start to shift in tandem, smoothing over your clothed core. It’s not exactly ecstasy, far from it — no rainbow blooms, tingling gold from your toes to your nose – but it’s been ages since you were last roused like this. Enough for it to feel brand new, a wrapped curse in a prim little bow, eager for all that you shouldn’t be.

And… Christ–

And then he unfastens the lines around your arms, and runs his hands up your skin. It’s not gentle, nor is it brutish, but you can feel his desperation escalating. His touches grow progressively antagonistic, kneading your palms up to your shoulders, patting down to the shallow pockets of your pants. You’re searched like you hold the key to his success – you suppose that, in some oddly comical way, you do. And it should be upsetting, blasphemous.

But you’re no sacred thing. You’d laid down that possibility a long time ago.

No. You’re foul, questionable at your best, and erupt into goosebumps over the ruthless grip of a man who hates your very soul. You’re a deeply detestable spirit, truly, but a detestable spirit who has just managed to get one up on Miguel O’Hara.

He throws you back around, wrapping his hands around your throat. His snarl is primal, maturated in acrid anger.

“Where is it?”

You’re sure that, in some alternate reality, your face is stretched in a shit-eating grin.

“Where’s the fucking day pass?”

Your satisfaction is short-lived.

You’ve never been one to notably detest humiliation. It’s productive – healthy, even – in smaller doses; a fitting consequence for those who you deem deserve it. Yet, as you find yourself unceremoniously hoisted over Miguel’s shoulder, forced into a meandering parade through the streets of New York, you breach into uncharted territory – a threshold where your tolerance encounters its breaking point.

He makes no effort to soften his strides, unmoved by the idea of providing even a shred of respite for your susceptible self. If anything, it feels as though he deliberately seeks out the harshest terrain, silently chastising your earlier defiance in the most passive aggressive manner known to man. He’d reinforced your constraints before marching out on this fruitless venture, and now you bobble uselessly, backside pointed upward, anchored solely by the meaty arm around your knees.

At least you’ve regained control of your mouth.

“D’stroyed it. Gone. Dearly d’parted–”

“If you’re going to run that little mouth, then make it helpful.”

“M’bein’ helpfoo,” you start, straining your weakened vocal cords in an effort to mock him. The grip of paralysis may have slackened its hold, but neurotransmission remains at an all time, sluggish low. In all actuality, it astounds you that he can even begin to decipher your words from the tangled murmurs they become.

“You had it on at the convenience, and a little bit afterward. You can’t expect me to believe that you dealt with it while running for your life.”

Running for your life. Sure.

Displeasure sparks at the confidence he imbues in his assumption.

“Escoos m– hnngh–” A sudden jump of stress robs you of breath, your stomach plummeting alongside the rapidly distancing ground. As Miguel propels himself above the city skyline, effortlessly evading the crowded streets via a web he’d grappled to an adjacent building, you’re confronted with a stark reality – that this is the very first time you have ever, and likely will ever, experience what it’s like to swing.

It’s exhilarating and nauseating all at once, gravity relinquishing its command as you transcend the confines of the physical, soaring through some reality where law loses significance. If it had been you, your arms and skill and jurisdiction, you’d never come down. But maybe that’s why it isn’t; maybe your life was meant to lead up to this, and only ever this.

(Not antimatter technologies or heroic conquest. Yeah, this feels more fitting.)

Your skin prickles. You phase through the sturdy frame that’s held you up so far, and plummet from its grasp.

Slicing through the boundless sky, you’re accompanied by a profound tranquillity. It isn’t absolute – fear still gnaws at your core, its presence undeniable. But, amidst the churning horror, your instincts are fainter than they ought to be. They whisper in a subdued tone, overshadowed by conflicting conceptions. One, being the inference you’d drawn earlier about how – whether you like it or not – Miguel would not let you die.

Another, quieter suspicion hints toward the full reality of your… relief.

Though, of course, you’re right about the former. Tree-trunk biceps wrap around your waist, pulling you close as he slingshots off to a nearby rooftop. You flop into him, a ragdoll to the overwhelming force of his agitation, and squeeze your eyes shut at the hints of patchouli permeating from under his mask.

You don’t have to face the gospel just yet.

“¿Qué mierda? Eh?” He shouts, propping you up against a ledge. “What the fuck was that?”

You don’t have an answer for him. Your heart lurches, catching up to the urgency at hand, striking on the hollow bars of your ribcage to some reckless tune. It’s only amplified by the torrent of blood distending through your system, throbbing at your temple, rushing by your ears.

What the fuck, indeed.

He damns you, it seems, with a fervour that breaches the heavens, as if willing God Himself to commit his plea to eternal memory. Or not; truthfully, you can’t tell. With the roar of your own snowballing thrill, it becomes impossible to discern the sequence of interrogations that explode from him. The world around you fades to the background, your preoccupancy consumed by the disquietude it leaves in its wake.

Your sense is only validated a minute later when, two blocks away, an ear-piercing shriek ruptures your dissociation.

Miguel stiffens, slowly turning to face its source.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘕𝘖-𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘐𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘓𝘠-𝘔𝘜𝘓𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘌:

Earth-15 – analysed, marked as closed.

Spider-totem – The Spider: soon after being bit by his radioactive spider, convicted felon Peter Parker merged with Earth-15’s variation of the carnage Symbiote.

Notes – do not engage, at any cost.

chapter five →

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krossan · 10 months

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A quick talk in regards to a little concern I have with Dan after AGIT. SPOILERS AHEAD . . . . . . . . . .

You know I’m here for Dan. And I’m always will be. He’s been my favorite character ever since. When the comic was close to the release, I was so nervous. I didn’t want him to be obliterated or forgotten, but luckily it went better. So many people and friends messaged me saying that I WOULD enjoy the comic. And I kept asking “Why they are saying that I WOULD?” And then it happened. I was so thrilled abt the why Dan was doing the things he did cuz that WAS exactly the main point of my siblings AU. Why Danny was able to get a second chance and NOT him? And OH BOI. Vlad was AMAZING? I now have respect for that old man. And PLEASE LET’S NOT FORGET JAZZ. BLESS JAZZ! And with now the trio being more of ghost HELPERS and NOT hunters... Jazz wanting to d a thesis and having Dan there... COUGH COUGH COUGH . .please, I beg . Now, what is my MAIN CONCERN? The clone. I hope we can get some sort of sequel to this as there are some cliffhangers, specially that one with Valerie and trying to develop a lore with the Ancients, but in case it happens, I REALLY,

REALLY,

REALLY wish they don’t get rid of Dan’s original form (the bulky boi). My head continues spinning around as Dan takes the clone as a vessel to anchor him to Danny’s timeline (the now canon timeline), but also this doesn’t mean he lost his body, right? He WAS ABOUT to but Vlad came in first. Vlad helped him stabilize until they found the most quick solution at the time, which was the clone. IF we could get a sequel, it would be interesting to see the struggles of Dan living inside the body of a 14 year old clone body, but if he goes full ghost he goes back to his bulky form? or Vlad creates a new not-so-teenage-body form for him?.... For my take, losing the OG body/of what makes Dan unique would be the same as sending him to oblivion. I want badass Dan still taking part of it.

#danny phantom spoilers #a glitch in time #agit spoilers #dan phantom #dark danny

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mncxbe · 1 month

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Sfw 8 + NSFW 12 + 17 with Denji

My babygirl deserves some love <3

the way i ate this up😳 the brainrot is brainrotting. collegeAU with Denji cuz I like to believe he'd be as much of a loser then♡ gaah i love him so much. also y/n is rich rich👀 for extra silly and damn this turned out way longer than i anticipated.

8– accidentally walking in on them while they're changing

12– catching them stealing your panties

17– they worship your body

ღೀ๋�� ⭑𝒄𝒘: alcohol cunsumption (reader is tipsy), cunnilingus, Denji being a perv, implied virginity loss, subby Denji

For your 19th birthday you decided to host the greatest party of the year and everyone in your grade was invited.

The penthouse your parents allowed you to live in during college was nicely decorated– black and white balloons and drizzle, flashy lights and speakers that started blaring loud music as soon as the sun set. Everyone was having a blast, downing glasses of neon colored punch and cheap beer, dancing and chatting in groups. Well, everyone except you. You were painfully bored.

When you threw the party of the year you didn't expect everyone to forget the purpose of the whole fucking event– celebrating your birthday.

You've been sitting all by yourself on the couch for the past half hour, sipping on a plastic cup of cocktail. Your gaze mused on the livingroom of your apartment, trying to find someone interesting to talk to. The only people who approached you were some guys from Arts who tried to chat you up, but they rambled on about some uninteresting exhibitions and you soon got bored and shunned them.

As you got up to refill your glass, you noticed someone slipping inside your bedroom. The fuck.. you thought, pushing past drunk people on your way towards your room. You swung the door open and saw a blond guy about your age standing in front of your dresser. When he heard you barge in he immediately slammed the drawer shut, his head snapping in your direction.

It was Denji. Just Denji.

Though you briefly interacted with the Denji, you knew him from highschool. He was the guy who used to let other students use him as a chair during breaks for some spare change. You remembered working on some group projects with him back then but you seldom saw him around campus now. He mostly kept to himself, so you were surprised too see him at your party in the first place— not to mention you certainly didn't expect to catch him going through your lingerie drawer. Still, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing...

"Well, well what do we have here?" you chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

"Y/N hi" he said nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt "I was just um... looking for a place to change. Someone spilled some punch on my clothes"

You noticed the stain on his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind you. "And you thought you'd find a clean tshirt somewhere next to my panties?"

A blush crept on his face as he looked down at his shoes. "No, I mean I was just looking..." he fumbled "It's not like I was snooping around on purpose, i'm not that kind of guy" His voice was weak, half hearted as he looked around the room. At anything but you.

Swaying your hips, you closed the distance between you "So you're not some perv who's trying to steal my panties?" you asked and he shook his head. "N-no I'd never–"

"The show me your pockets"

Denji's face grew livid when he heard your command and you knew you had him. He was caught red handed and there wasn't much he could do about it. If he admitted maybe you'd at least allow him to stay at the party for a bit longer The boy couldn't bear to look you in the eyes as he reached a hand to the back pocket of his jeans and procured a pair of your lacy panties.

"Here, take them, but just know it's not what you think." It was cute that he still tried to find excuses for his actions and you blamed the alcohol for the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, you gazed up at him with droopy eyes.

All the while, Denji was getting more and more nervous. His palms were sweaty, heart hammering in his chest as he peered at you. God, you were so damn beautiful– Though he didn't admit it, Denji had a crush on you from the first moment he saw you. You were the pretties girl in school, which meant you were way out of his league. A goddess like you would never spare a moment of her time on someone like him, right? Well, his conviction was starting to crumble now that he saw the way you eyed him down with that taunting glint in your eyes.

"Ya know, Denji, I don't recall you giving me a gift or wishing me happy birthday. It's awfully rude of you." you slurred, tapping the floor with the tip of your heels.

His sorry excuses were half drowned by the blaring music in the other room. Your head was starting to get foggy from the alcohol, limbs growing heavier, as if an invisible weight was pulling you down against mattress. "Jee... quit the whining" you giggled, waving a dismissive hand in his direction "I'm not mad at you. However, I do think you need to make up for it."

"Y/N, I told you I'm in a tight spot with money this month, but I'll buy you something nice once I get my paycheck."

"I'm not talking about that" you deadpanned, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze drifted down towards his belt and then back up to his face, taking in his frame. You couldn't deny he wasn't bad looking. Out of all the guys at the party, he seemed the best option for a casual hookup– not to mention he was already interested in you, so why not give it a try? With a motion of your finger, you beckoned him closer, pointing at the floor "Get on your knees."

Denji swallowed the lump in his throat and gathered the courage to step away from your dresser. With hesitant steps he covered the distance between the two of you and kneeled before you, his hands folded in his lap. His fists clenched and unclenched as he anxiously waited for your instructions.

To be frank, you never expected him to obey so you were quite taken aback by his attitude.

"You still let people order you around, Denji? How cute" you cooed, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed.

The blond tried his best not to peek under your skirt, his face turning red from embarrassment. He's never been so close to a girl before, let alone someone as beautiful as you and he was nervous. As if reading his mind you let out a low chuckle, hiking up your skirt.

"Come on, Denji, take off my panties. If you make me feel good I'll let you keep them."

By this point Denji was too far gone. Your silken voice put him under a spell and he eagerly pulled down your lingerie. A small moan slipped past his lips when he saw the string of arousal connecting your pussy to the silky fabric, his features melting into a pleading expression. He looked so needy, gazing at your bare cunt with those puppy eyes, his hands shaking lightly as he fully removed your panties and let them fall in his lap.

"There you go, Denji. Get a good look of it." you encouraged, running your fingers through his tangled hair to ease him into the new situation. You could tell it was his first time seeing a woman naked and didn't want to scare him off. So you took things slowly, waiting for him to get comfortable. Little did you know there was no need for that.

Denji was basically drooling over your pussy. He rested his head against your thigh, leaning into your touch as he spread your puffy folds with his thumb. His breath stuck in his throat when he noticed just how wet you were and it was all because of him. With shaky fingers, he collected the slick from your hole and spread it nicely along your clit, making you flinch.

"There?" he asked in a barely audible voice but you heard him nevertheless. "Y-yea, right there."

He slowly drew circles on your bud, making you writhe on the mattress and you spread your legs wider, shamelessly grinding on his hand. Sloppy movements over your clit had increased in intensity and you could feel the knot in your abdomen tighten with each swipe of his digits.

"Go on, baby, give it a taste" you said in a hushed voice and he immediately obliged. Hooking your other leg over his shoulder, Denji's hands gently massaged your thighs. He kissed his way up to your core, wet lips tracing the inside of your thighs, teeth nipping at your skin but not enough to leave marks.

He licked a stripe of your cunt from your hole to your clit, relishing the taste of your arousal. You were basically melting on his tongue and he was adamant to please you. As the grip on your thighs tightened, Denji collected some spit in his mouth and let the blob slide down your slit. He started eating you out slow, savouring the heat on his tongue but he soon increased the pace. It was clear that he had little idea of what he was doing– he was sloppy, messy, a mixture of slick and spit coating his chin as he lapped at your juices and you swore you got ten times wetter just by hearing him moan into your cunt.

His tongue flicked your clit so eagerly, lips wrapping around your bud, giving it an experimental suck. Your hips jolted up in pleasure but Denji quickly pulled you back on his face.

"Is it good?" he mumbled, pussy drunk eyes briefly meeting your as you nodded.

"Y-yea. You're so good Denji, gonna make me cum soon."

He mewled at your praise, his ministrations growing in intensity as heat pooled in your core. You were so close, choked moans spilling from your lips as your vision blurred. Denji made you feel so good you were starting to regret not paying more attention to him all those years back. He ate you out like it was his lifeline, hugging your thighs closer to his face to keep you from squirming too much. When you came you came hard, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him closer to your cunt, grinding down on his face to ride out your high.

"Denji fuck—" you whined, arching your back off the mattress and he gently massaged the fat of your thighs and hips, his hands seeking your body you.

"I got you, just cum for me ok? Please feel good" he said softly, kissing your pussy and the inner side of your thighs before working his way up to your belly. He didn't dare go past the line of your dress, though all he wanted was to keep touching and kissing, to soak you up in all the love and affection he harbored for you during all these years.

When you looked down at him with those droopy, drunk-dazed eyes his heart sank, a soft smile etching onto his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a small voice as you pushed yourself up to sitting and held his face in your hands, leaning towards him. Denji's eyes rolled back into his skull as you kissed him, his lashes fluttering shut. You could taste yourself on his tongue along with the sweet punch he drank earlier that night. The kiss was heated and you pulled him on top of you, tugging at the wristband on his jeans.

"H-hey wait a minute I've never done this before" he tensed up but you shushed him with another needy kiss.

"Shit, I don't care if you're a virgin Denji I just need you so bad right now. Please" you huffed out and he felt his dick getting impossibly harder. He could almost cum in his pants at the sight of your pleading expression.

"Okay..." he whispered, hesitantly unbuckling his belt and you could tell he was nervous again. With sloppy movements he managed to allign himself to your entrance, shuffling around to make sure everything was alright, but just as he was about to push himself inside he perked up, patting your thigh. "Oh, Y/N I almost forgot."

"What?" you whined, grinding your needy pussy on his length. Why can't he just fuck you already?

The blond looked down at you with a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling with adoration "I think I still haven't wished you happy birthday"

#this turned out way longer than i expected #i believe in denji eating reader out supremacy i'm telling you this man gives good head #𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑#chainsaw man #chainsaw man smut #csm x reader #csm denji #chainsaw man denji #denji #denji x reader #denji smut

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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I got the Passion For Fashion brainworms, and since you're guilty for it you WILL get my headcannons.

Since Clockwork made them know spanish as if it was their first language, they only talk in spanish with eachother, more often than not completely forgetting that they are talking in SPANISH.

Danny and Dan like bickering and banter but since they were basically eachother once upon a time they know eachother's limits perfectly. That causes them to say a lot of agressive and downright nasty stuff to eachother so it always sounds like they hate eachother and are constantly fighting.

Clockwork gave them the "essentials" for making clothes, so Dan will absolutely just spam Danny's phonenwith pictures and descriptions of a sewing gadget or tool and be like "Danny i need this. Please. I know you keep making stuff don't lie to me. I know you can do it so please just make it. Danny we are too poor to buy this. Danny PLEASE I need it" until Danny accepts making the thing in true Fenton fashion.

Danny and Dan making up names for themselves because no sane parent names both of their twins "Daniel"

"I swear to the Ancients I will NOT hesitate to go Cain Instinct on your ass-"

Making fun of Vlad together. Just. Making fun of him in general.

The pmoment Bruce decides to show some interest in the twins Danny go home running and be like "Dan. Dan I fuckked up. Dan there's another billionaire after us. Dan how do I always fuck this up." and since they're both dumbasses they panic together and the batkids (who are most likely listening in with a bug or smth) are all just laughing at Bruce's sour face.

Dan headcannons cuz i love him:

I think that even if they're identical twins, Dan has longer hair with a dark gray streak (cuz of vlad ofc)

even if he is a fashion maker he probably goes everywhere wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

Dan forcefully makes Danny do skincare to make his appearance look good but will never even drink a glass of water for his own health.

I love them and spent the entire day without internet so now I'm devoting myself thanks for the content <3<3

I love all of these!! Its beautiful!

Danny and Dan not realizing they slipped into Spanish is such a mood tbh. Sometimes, my coworkers and I do that, and my non Spanish speaking coworker just stares at us until we snap.

Lowkey they dislike each other, but they also love each other, and no one can tell with the insults they threw. Danny and Dan live and breath the "Only I can be mean to my sibling!"

Danny would make Dan anything he asked for if it meant keeping his Obsession healthy. On the one hand, it gives him something to do and, on the other hand, keeps Dan from jumping off the deep end again. He does get annoyed with Dan spamming him at three in the moring for "A machine that could double bedazzled and polish!"

Both kept their names as Danny and Dan, so neither is Daniel. Clockwork did that when he made their files. He knew if he tried to change their names, both would refuse to answer.

They turned Vlad into a verb. Danny trips over air? "You went and Vlad-ed everything bro" Dan refuses to shower cause he has some embroidery to do? "Ugh you Vlad-ed all of my scent receivers" sometimes when the fight is really big Danny will yell "YOUR JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER VLAD!" and Dan will gasp dramatically before bursting into tears. ( Cause he took Vlad ghost that makes him half vlad and Dan has to live with that)

Bruce would never understand why the twins are more freaked out by Brucie Wayne then Batman. His kids think it's hilarious.

Dan and Danny are identical down to the hairstyle in my au, but That will change with time. Dan will grow out his hair to put it in a man bun, while Danny will cut it short. And yes, Dan wears nothing by sweats or PJs. He doesn't care about the clothes after they are finished. He just likes making them.

Dan was a pure ghost for almost ten years before Clockwork messed with his body and threw it back into its teens. He is not used to doing most basic human needs like showering, eating, sleeping, and, of course, drinking water. Danny has to remind him his headache is due to lake of all the things mentioned. That will not stop him from designing a strict beauty regime for Danny, including hourly water intake.

Last little detail, both are terrible at social interactions. Dan beacuse he thinks of himself as a ghost and doesn't like humans so he avoids them if he can and Danny cause he sees everyone as unimportant since he's planning on going home. Neither of them know anything about Batman besides what clockwork told them. As of part 3 they didn't even know he was a vigilante. So this lake of information means they don't know anyhring about the rest of Gotham and that will play a big part in how they react to villains.

Also yes, Dan was being genuinely interested when he flirted with Killer Croc, but that's cause he thought he was a EverBurning. A group of Lizard men in the ghost zone is similar to the FarFrozen society only they live in volcano surrounded by lava.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #mun speaks #passion for fashion #side notes and headcanons

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the-offside-rule · 5 months

Text

Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid) - Moving

Requested: yes

Prompt: Moving in with Jude Bellingham (this came at a good time cuz my fyp is FULL of Jude)

Warnings: cutesy shtuff

"Jesus, whys there so much books?" Jude asked as he unpacked a third black box filled to the brim with various schoolbooks. "University. I don't think I need to explain further." Y/n replied as she stacked the books onto the newly constructed shelf. "Yeah, but why so many? I thought everything was online nowadays."

Jude couldn't hide his excitement as he helped Y/n move into their new place in Madrid. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and laughter, creating an atmosphere of warmth and joy. Jude grinned as he lifted another box, "You sure you want all these books in our room, babe?" Y/n chuckled and took a few, placing them on the Shelf above their bed. "Absolutely! They're part of the charm. Plus, they'll have a good view from the shelf." AsAs they unpacked, memories unfolded. Y/n held up an old photo, "Look at us here! Can't believe it's been that long." Y/n stumbled upon another photo of them in the Camp Nou. Their first holiday as a couple. "Remember that trip to Barcelona? Our first adventure together." It was....ironic how he ended up going to the rival team but that was a funny story to tell in the future. She grinned, handing it to her boyfriend. Jude chuckled. "Yeah, and now we're making a new chapter right here in Madrid. Who would've thought?"

They set up a cozy reading nook, and Y/n teased. "Imagine the adventures we'll have in this little corner." She winked. "Behave. I won't bother you when you're there. I'll wait until you get out." Jude said, undoing another box. "We both know you're impatient." She smiled. "You're awfully rude, you know." He muttered. "You love me really Jude."

Amidst the unpacking chaos, they found a quirky souvenir from a past vacation. Y/n held up a miniature flamenco dancer. "We got this in Barcelona too, didn't we? Jesus, I nearly forgot all of these." She turned to see Jude holding a cinema ticket and a receipt. "What's this?" He asked. "Remember our first date to the cinema? I kept the ticket." Jude nodded. "Ah yeah. How could I forget? I spilled popcorn and pretended it was intentional, just to hold your hand." Jude chuckled. "You were quite the romantic back then." Jude held her closely and smiled down to her, just centimeters from her face. "I still am, especially when it comes to you."

"You still know how to make me blush." Jude chuckled. "You'd swear we were married for like 50 years with how you're going on." Jude laughed. "Oh but I love these little tokens. It reminds me of how we got here." She said, holding the ticket in her own hand now. "Our own little museum of love." He joked. "Oh shut up." They shared a playful laugh, turning mundane tasks into moments they'd remember forever.

In between assembling furniture, Y/n looked at Jude with a mischievous grin. "Remember when we tried to build that IKEA shelf? It took us hours!" Jude shook his head. "I still blame the instructions. They're like a secret code only IKEA employees understand." Jude said trying to connect the leg to the new desk. "Or the Swedish." They both burst into laughter, turning the furniture assembly into a lighthearted competition.

While setting up Y/n's study space, Jude couldn't help but express his pride. "You're going to nail uni, Y/n. I'll be right here cheering you on." Y/n playfully tapped his nose. "We cam be eachother's cheerleaders. Go team us!" She smiled. "But I haven't exactly been the best cheerleader, have I?" Jude said. "It's understandable." Y/n replied. "I don't think it is. It would have been understandable for you to not come to my games and support me but you still did. But it's my turn now and I promise I'm going to cheer you on louder than anyone else." Y/n reached out her hand and he took it, interlocking their fingers and kissing them. "I am so happy you're finally here." He whispered.

They shared a sweet moment, realizing that every challenge they faced only brought them closer together. "Come on, last box." Y/n said, handing the heavy box to Jude. He obviously underestimated how heavy it was because he nearly dropped it. "Don't you deadlift at training?" Y/n teased. "Come here you!" She giggled as she ran from Jude around the house, further delaying them actually finishing up the moving process.

As the day unfolded and the furniture set up, the items and memorabilia all set in their place, the couple sat by the pool with the fireplace ablaze, sipping on coffee, and enjoying the peace and quiet of eachother's company. "This is home now, isn't it?" Y/n said, leaning into Jude. He nodded. "Our safe haven. Here's to new beginnings, love." They clinked their coffee mugs, sealing the promise of countless more memories Madrid, in what would now be known as their home.

The day ended with laughter echoing through the halls, love lingering in the air, and the anticipation of countless tomorrows in a city that now held not just their dreams but their shared adventures and cherished moments.

#football #football imagines #football blurbs #laliga #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham

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