#i do not like the way i talked about his relationship with dio at all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

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common tongue of you lovin' me

🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut

🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k

content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake.

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night.

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his.

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim.

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly.

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first.

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening.

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up.

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing.

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him.

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy.

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat.

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release.

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths.

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?”

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck.

________

guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #e.m. thots from lu #drabble #smut #mdni

5K notes · View notes

oharababe · 3 months

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❝ STRESS RELIEVER ❞ oneshot premise. you're struggling to keep your focus with the stress and miguel offers to ease that worry off you. (minors do not interact).

pairing. college student! miguel o'hara x college student! reader. genre. explicit sexual content, alternate universe. warnings. finger fucking, dirty talk, kinda slow burn. wc. 3,573 words.

a/n. this is long overdue for @spikedhe4rt who requested miguel to finger fuck reader as a stress relief. i aged reader and miguel to between 22-23 in this oneshot since they're college students. this fic is longer than intended but hey, we like to take it slow burn here.

Sometimes you contemplate why you put yourself in this kind of situation.

You were aware that you have exams coming up in the next few weeks. But you were focused on making sure that you got your assignments done before the deadline. So it was natural for you to prioritise those. You wish you had paid more attention to the dates because just when you thought that you would have more time to revise, you didn’t. Leaving you with only three weeks until your exam. And now you’re struggling to get information into your head.

“Fuck,” you mumble. The machine makes a soft drilling noise as it pours coffee into your mug. You rub your forehead with your hand as you wait for your drink to finish. Thinking about what topics you need to revise for the exam. Mentally planning how you would organise and plan yourself for another long session of studying. It’s going to be another long night.

When your drink is ready, you stride your way to the dining table where all your notes and books are set. With not enough desk space you have in your room, the dining table has turned into your second desk to accommodate all the reading materials and your laptop to work on. You strap yourself in your seat, ready for another torturous session of studying for the finals.

All the caffeine from the coffee, tea and sugary energy drinks didn’t last long in your system. At first, you feel the buzz of the caffeine that helps you go through two hours of reading and answering mock questions without a proper break. You feel yourself pushing through, feeling motivated that you can do this. But then, the effects wear off, and now you’re struggling through short video clips on your laptop after two hours into your study session.

Your mind battles. Reminding you about the consequences of you losing more time. But you can’t be bothered at the moment. You are convincing yourself that you deserve a break from studying for fifteen minutes which turned into a two-hour rest and procrastination.

At this rate, you know that you won't get any studying done. You’re going to have to face the consequences of that but you can’t be bothered about it for now. Staring mindlessly at your laptop with headphones on as you watch a reality television adaption to pass the time.

“Dios, you’re still here this late?”

Your eyes look up from your laptop to find your roommate in the dining area. Miguel stands at the entrance in his black leather jacket, red shirt underneath and dark-coloured jeans. His black helmet rests on his left lip and it looks like he’s returned from wherever he went or did. You didn’t realise that he wasn’t in the house you both shared all this time. “When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look shit.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You say. Your relationship with Miguel O’Hara is rather tricky, to say the least. Sometimes, the two of you get along and have a decent conversation with each other about careers, and personal experiences and share similar interests. Though other times, it’s not necessary. It’s mostly when he would bring people over to the house and then take one girl up to his room. Having to hear moans from the girls he fucked and Miguel’s growls and dirty talks.

It annoys you to no end, especially the one incident when you walked into the bathroom with him getting a blow job in the shower. It’s still his fault for not locking the bathroom or even putting a sign on the door to say that he’s busy getting pleased.

Even after that, your subtle attraction for Miguel still resonates with you.

You realise your mug is empty, another drink that is supposed to keep you going has gone to waste in your system. You can’t be bothered but you know that you’ve wasted time not studying when you’re supposed to. So, you get up from your seat, walk into the kitchen and do the same routine that you’ve done the past few weeks when you’re cramming for finals. Either make your coffee, or tea or grab an energy drink. The caffeine from the coffee is too much for you to handle at the moment and tea isn’t strong enough for you. So you settle for an energy drink where it’s in between enough caffeine to maybe help you go through for another three hours for now.

“Are you thinking of studying again?” Miguel sounds a bit disbelieving, but not surprised. He’s now in the kitchen with you as you take your energy drink of choice for the night—or early morning. You don’t want to look at the time “There’s no point. You’re not going to remember anything at this rate.”

“Can we just… not do this?” You warn, holding your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking. Stop creating conversations that would lead to an argument because you know it would happen. Especially with your emotions all over the place.

Miguel stares at you, his eyes roaming up and down. Not long after, his lips curl into a smirk. Leaning his side against the frame of the long, rectangular entrance arch. “You’re stressed out. Miss Perfect finally breaks down for finals.”

A tired sigh escapes out of your mouth. You focus to proceed on opening up the can, hearing its fizziness before pouring it into your mug. “You could say that.”

The kitchen falls into silence. What he says is certainly true and you feel that you brought this on yourself. You were off-tracked with your assignments and didn’t check the right exam dates. It’s an error on your part but you are trying to do your best to make it through another year of college without failing. At this point, you’re willing to accept a passing grade just to make it to another year.

“I’ll study and keep you company,” Miguel declares. “Only to make sure you stay focused and get on track. No more messing around. Got that?”

You blink, unprepared for his words. You’re not sure why he’s doing this to you but what he said made a rush of warmth fill your chest. Despite his words, you guess that he thinks it’s better to have someone to study with rather than doing it alone. But you don’t ask Miguel if that’s his intention, in case he decides to rethink his offer.

“Thank you.”

Miguel unfolds his arms and lets it drop to his sides. His hands are in his pockets as he’s about to leave, but then he looks over his shoulder to you. “And also; nadie bebe su bebida energética de una taza.” He says before disappearing elsewhere.

You blink and look down at the mug in your hand, guessing that Miguel is talking about how energy drinks are meant to drink from their can, and not from a mug.

*****

You did manage to push yourself for another two hours before you came crashing again.

“I can’t focus on anything else right now. My mind has gone blank.” You sigh, slumping on your seat. That’s another study session that failed.

“Hm,” Miguel responds. Focusing on his study materials. “I think you’ve studied too much. That’s why you’re burned out.”

There is some truth to his words. You have been pushing yourself to the bone for this exam and now your mind is haywired. Everything feels numbing in your head. The feelings of exhaustion, guilt and unbotheredness are jumbled in you.

“I’m just really stressed out. I want to do well on this exam but my brain just… can’t grasp anything that I’ve studied.” You say, sounding a little disheartened. “I can’t focus, I can’t concentrate.”

Miguel couldn’t help but glance at you. Taking in the way you’re slumped in your seat and how hollow your eyes are, filled with fatigue and emptiness. You look stressed out. He wonders when was the last time you had rest – a proper break. Not the stupid Pomodoro breaks where you take five to ten minutes of break time before getting back to studying.

He wonders when was the last time you had taken care of yourself?

Miguel turns his attention to you when he hears you close one of your heavy books. You let out a sigh, “I can’t even relax without being so much on edge. Fuck.”

He thinks you’re right as he sees the way your body tenses in stress and anxiety. Miguel’s expression stays unfazed though he does feel sympathy seeing you in such a state. “Hey, you should get some rest. Go to bed early or something.”

“I will after I attempt to get this lesson done. Then, I’ll go to bed.”

Miguel gives you a solemn look. Your determination is one of the things he admires about you. Your willingness to do whatever it takes to get your points across. It made you endearing in his eyes. But at the moment, it’s making you look stubborn and somewhat prideful. The last thing you need is a bad experience of burnout before your exam, and he knows that you know this as well deep down.

“Let me help you to relax,”

“Huh?” You shoot him a confused look. As if he’s said something unusual to you. “Help me… relax? How do you plan on doing that?”

Miguel nods, “You are tensed up and you’re not getting anything remembered in your head. Your mind can’t focus.”

You raise a brow at him, unsure where your roommate is coming from. Miguel is right, you do need to take a proper break since your productivity is rather counterproductive. But his words still puzzle you about how he can help you relax. “And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?” You ask curiously. “What do you do to relax when you’re stressed out?”

“You know, go to the gym. Take a walk, drive around.” Miguel says it casually. “Sometimes masturbating helps to wire your brain to relax.”

You stare at your roommate before burying your face in your hands with a groan. Not only is the suggestion embarrassing but you have to imagine Miguel playing with himself. How his hands would stroke his cock, hot and pulsing in the palm of his hands. Envisioning the grunted breaths and deep groans he makes. It isn’t as if you haven’t done that to yourself either, pleasuring yourself. You’ve done that on the nights where you could hear the headboard of his bed from his room moving as the girl Miguel brought for the night kept moaning.

You shake your head, dismissing the thoughts immediately. Or try to. “I’m not in the right mindset to do that.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow. “I’m not saying you should do it. I’m offering to do it. It’s on the table for you.”

“What?” You stare at him in shock and confusion. You think you heard him wrong but from the unfazed look on his face, you know that he is serious about this. Serious about giving you an orgasm, or maybe multiple orgasms. Because you know from the women and girls he brings over to fuck, Miguel has them moaning more than three times.

When you open up your mouth, you can hear yourself stammering your words. The thought of it is disgusting but at the same time, arouses you. “Miguel, I–”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his red eyes piercing into yours. Captivating you to stop talking. To stop denying the offer of pleasure. You give Miguel a look of uncertainty, unsure how to respond to his offer.

“What’s it gonna be?” Miguel asks. The corner of his mouth curves up to a tiny smirk. “No pressure, chica. I want you to think about it and let me know if you’re up for it or not.”

Miguel goes back to reading his study notes with a neutral expression as if the conversation didn’t happen. He doesn’t look at you and the silence in the room speaks volumes. Leaving you to think about the offer. You’re not sure why he is even offering himself to give you pleasure. Miguel is your friend, for goodness sake. The guy is out of your league and he has been with other people, you know this. Is he doing this out of pity or could there be more to it?

The two of you have lived together for three years of schooling, and have known each other for that long. He doesn’t give you attention in a lustful way or lustful like he does with other girls; the kind of interest in starting a sexual relationship with you. It’s a blessing in disguise yet at the same time, you want a connection more than just being his friend.

You have a crush on Miguel but he doesn’t seem the type of guy who isn’t ready to commit to one person just yet. Especially when you’re both still young and exploring life ahead.

“Okay,” you closed your book with a thud. You catch his eyes when you fully turn to talk to him. This idea is already as insane as it is, but you’re desperate to stop feeling like a lost cause about your exam. You just want to forget about your test for a few minutes. Maybe a couple of hours at most. “I’ll take up on your offer. What I’ve been doing is not working, and I need some sort of break before I go insane.”

Miguel grins and then puts his reading materials away. You always think that he looks so handsome when he smiles. “Well then. Move your books and laptop aside and sit on the table for me.” Miguel looks at you when you stare at him. “It will be a lot nicer like that, trust me.” He adds.

“Okay, I’ll get my stuff out of the way.” You say and begin picking up your books and laptop. Miguel does the same, putting his things away, then turns his attention to look at you.

You’re sitting on the edge of the table, waiting for his next words. The beating of your heart thumping is the only thing you can hear as you watch Miguel. He stands in front of you in between your thighs. Tall, built and handsome. His red eyes look down on you as they shine under the lights in the dining area.

You feel his hands on the sides of your waistband shorts, his fingers brushing against your clothed skin and hips. “May I?” Miguel asks as he looks at you.

“Sure,” you say. You’re not one to be nervous around easily but your roommate seems to have that effect on you. When you lift your hips slightly, Miguel curls his fingers on the waistband and pulls down your shorts. Discarding your clothed item you notice that he’s taken off your panties too. “Miguel–”

His stare made you pause, his red piercing eyes keep you quiet. You’ve always known what Miguel’s eyes are like but in this moment of what you’re letting him do to you, it stirs feelings in you. The gaze in his eyes is fiery in desire; so focused and enraptured. He looks at you in silence – keeping his eyes on you – as he slowly pulls down everything and discards it somewhere in the room.

“Open your legs a little for me, pretty,” Miguel tells you. “Yes, that’s it.”

The heat on your cheeks burns you as your heart thumps in your chest at how intimate and vulnerable the situation looks. Never in your dreams you would be in this situation, much less doing it with Miguel O’Hara.

“It’s not too late to change your mind and tell me no.” He says. Standing between your legs, his calloused fingers on your inner right thigh. “I won’t hate you for it.”

Your breathing is soft and steady. “Shouldn’t you have asked me that before you took my panties off?” You chuckled with a small smile. You feel a little more relaxed about what you and he are starting.

Miguel grins, “I probably should have.” His expression becomes serious. “I’ll start slow.”

You watch as he puts two fingers in his mouth with a gentle suck. When he pulls them out, his digits are glistened wet under the lights. Lubricated and wet against his tan skin. Miguel catches you dazing at him, his intense expression stays on you, as he brings his fingers between your thighs. They find themselves between your flaps, tracing your inner folds with his fingertips.

“You’re already wet before I touch you.” Miguel hums in approval. “That’s good.”

His fingers move slowly like he promised. You feel him gather your sleek arousal with a gentle swipe of his thumb and move up to the hood of your cunt. You moan softly when you feel Miguel play with your clit, circling and putting just the right pressure that has you tingling in sensation. Your hands grip on the edge of the table as you brace yourself.

“Gosh, that feels nice.” You sigh. Your eyes are closed, indulging in the pleasure, finding your body relaxed and mind in tranquillity. Focusing on feeling his fingers touch and tease your folds and clit. Maybe this is what you truly need for a break from intense studying.

“I like the look on your face,” Miguel tells you. You can picture the smirk from the tone of his voice. “This is just the beginning of your stress relief.”

You didn’t get to open your eyes and ask him what he meant when you felt something push inside your cunt. Your walls are wet and warm, feeling one of Miguel’s digits sliding into your pussy with ease. It has you gasping and moaning softly, your back arches and hands gripping tightly onto the table edge. Miguel has his index finger in you and he slips in his middle finger, stretching your pussy open. His thumb is still circling your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

“Stay still, bonita.” His voice deeps, almost growling. “And don’t think. Just focus on the feeling of my fingers. Relax for me.”

You can’t help but tighten around his fingers from the command. Hoping that he didn’t feel the way your clit throbs from his command. You never heard him speak like that before – maybe not to you – but it sounds hot. All you could focus on is the way his fingers rub and massage your pussy.

You can tell that Miguel is certainly experienced with the way he can tease your vulva and play with your clit, letting your breathless sighs and moans guide him. It’s completely easy to forget about anything else but being finger fuck by the guy you liked.

“Oh, oh.” You softly moan, putting the heels of your feet on the edge of the table. Your hands clutch onto his forearms as Miguel fingers you. It has your head spinning with the way he alternates between fingering and rubbing your slick folds. The pace is not fast or slow-- just perfect, as it eases you off and you forget about what you're stressed about in the first place.

And when he pushes his fingers into your pussy, it has you tilting your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name, as you feel him going deeper.

"So tight around my fingers. You definitely need this." Miguel smirks, his breath warms your neck. “Need a good stretch, don’t you, bonita?”

You groan as you feel him continuously plunge his digits in and out of you. Miguel doesn’t stick to one way to pleasure you; he would rub your wet folds, flicker your clit up and down and sideways with his thumb, and circle your little pearl. At the corner of your eye, you see the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk when clutching onto his forearms for dear life.

“Miguel,” you mewl. The knot in your lower belly tightens when he plunges his whole fingers into your slick pussy, thrusting them in and out. Your body moves in a sudden, forward thrust when Miguel continues to come hither inside your pussy, having his fingers rubbing your G-spot. He doesn’t stop to flicker and circle your throbbing clit and a sultry gasp catches in your throat as your thighs begin to quiver. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, beautiful. Oh, you really do need this, don’t you?” Miguel asks almost mockingly. You arch your back in his embrace and let out another moan, feeling his two fingers flicking inside your pussy walls. He knows exactly what he’s doing, drawing out more noises from you as your lower body still trembles, and your cum spilling out of your folds and onto his fingers.

It feels as if Miguel is toying with you and pussy for a long time, even after being overstimulated and sensitive. He slows down his ministrant but still has his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit and wet folds. You relax in his arm, head on his shoulder as you regain your senses from orgasm. All thoughts cleared up in your head and you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking or doing earlier before being finger-fucked.

Miguel’s voice sounds a little raspy and distinct, still toying with your cunt, as he whispers: “Wanna continue this elsewhere?”

TAGLIST GROUP:

@99matterss @manlikemilesmyguy @therealloopylupin2099 @oyayablog @tojishugetiddies @miauamy @pigeonmama

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara imagine #the miguel effect #* jan 24 reads #fic: stress reliever #written by © lavie

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tarjapearce · 9 days

Text

Pure Instinct

Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x Spiderwoman! Reader

Art by Lenin Francis Yu

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Preying behaviors, bickering, ambiguous relationships, breeding kink, objectification, creampies, Monster fucking, overstimulation, prey/hunter dynamics, mentions of period. Canon places, Not proofread.

Summary: A little guest from another dimension has a penchant for ovulation.

Another one for the Miguelverse

Special thanks to this nonny for the wonderful idea ❤️❤️

If you had to hear another word about world domination or how mistaken your views as a hero from another anomaly were, you'd surely rip your hair out.

Miguel delivered the last kick on Doc Oc's variant while you handled the trap.

"God, I swear if he keeps talking about the fucking sun on his hands-"

"Can you shut up and help?!" Miguel grunted as one of the villain's tentacles squeezed his skull, with the intention of leaving his head a bloody pulp, while slamming him against a wall.

"On it! " With a huff you shot your webs and kicked Doc Oc's spine, earning a pained growl from the man, but it was enough distraction for Miguel to pull his talons out and slice through metal and wire in a vicious outburst, destroying the tentacles in several rubble pieces.

With a kick and punch combo, Dr. Octavius was stunted. Miguel's webs tied the remaining automated limbs.

"Lyla, we've got him. Prepare the cell."

The little quiet gave you a bit of peace, bit it was quickly interrupted by the dull cramps on your lower belly.

You had to support on a nearby wall and exhale as another stab was delivered to your insides. If there was something worse than having your period, was being a spiderwoman and having your period.

Heightened senses made everything to be felt tenfold. Miguel's mask disappeared and he threw a brief glance your way before securing the area and pick up the anomaly.

"You alright?"

"Yeah just... Wished my uterus wouldn't have a penchant for committing harakiri every fucking month."

His brow quirked and he pressed some buttons to open the portal back to HQ. Dr. Octavius chuckled.

"You'd need a tantō for that."

"What do you think it feels like, dumbass?"

His lid twitched at your brazen disrespect, but ignored it. The least he wanted was to keep wasting time and prolonging the anomaly's staying in this dimension too long.

But the little conversation was more than enough to create a distraction. Doc Oc pounced on Miguel with his bare hands, securing his steely grip on his watch before pushing him through the portal.

"Shit!" Despite the pain you didn't hesitate to jump after them. You shot a web to gain impulse and kick the villain's head before his fist collided with Miguel's face, but this Octavius seemed prone to a greater resistance.

He punched back on your stomach, blowing all air out of your lungs through a choked wheeze.

"Play nice!" Miguel growled before connecting a powerful uppercut underneath Otto's jaw as the latter used the marred machine as a weapon, creating a set of cuts on Miguel's arm.

The mass of fighting limbs and bodies went through different universes, thanks to the code error to finally land in a foreign looking land.

You fell on the floor with a hard thud, unable to stand due the waves of pain that subdued you remorselessly.

Miguel howevee had grown tired and punched Otto on the side of his face, repeatedly until the villain remained unconscious on the floor.

Miguel's attention quickly diverted to his watch that sputtered in sparks and electric jolts.

"Ay por Dios... Lo que faltaba." His hand immediately rubbed his face, annoyed.

You on the other hand had barely mustered some energies to stand up.

"Fuck..." you whimpered and held your lower belly, as a crawl rolled down your spine upon glaring mistrustful at the alien-like features of the dimension. "Where are we?"

"Earth 616, known as Klyntar." Lyla quipped from your watch before glitching next to Miguel.

The foliage was nothing alike, not even the local fawn. All seemed to be doused in a black goo, that if you looked closer you could swear it moved on its own.

The flower's leafs were either exactly that or white sturdy spines that resembled teeths. As if the plant had a set of elongated teeth that protruded on each petal.

Long and sturdy spines that crawled in twisted spirals in whatever surface they touched. The sky was like glancing at a sunset. But unlike it's pretty hues of pastels, the fiery red and orange and yellows took over. Like if witnessing the very sun burning before you, yet it was cold. Eerily cold.

"Yeah, no. Can we... can we go home? Please? Don't wanna remain another second in one of Stephen King's wetdreams."

"I'm on it, signal over here is quite hard to get." Lyla glitched in several spots, trying to get a proper reception for her data

Miguel secured Otto entirely this time, and as he popped some joints back, you couldn't help but shoot at the sentient goo that was already crawling up his ankle and hand. His face contorted into a scowl before seeing the black puddle scurrying away from him, crawling within the dense alien foliage.

His face scrunched in disgust to then haul Octavius on his shoulder.

"What the hell was that?!"

"A symbiote. Amorphous creatures, I'm still trying to get a full on scan on what they are made of." Lyla's excitement would've been contagious if it wasn't for the icky feeling the whole place gave in it's already bizarre layout.

"Parasites, that's what they are."

Miguel mumbled gruffly as he crossed the portal, you followed. Otto was put in a cell. And you went to your dimension for a much needed break.

The boss himself went back to his base, ready to get lost in the many upcoming reports his way, ignoring the sudden itch that seeped through his body.

----

Dread crept in your head the closer you got to Miguel's office. The past weeks have been nothing but chaos in the Spider Society.

Anomalies doubling their presence, canon events bein6 almost disrupted, the cafeteria food lowering their quality and Miguel...

Oh no.

The main reason you were nauseous with anxiety as you entered in the threshold of his lab.

Not only your favorite leader and almost lover had been insufferable, but snappier, less tolerating towards Bullshit and mistakes, to the point of believing himself allergic to them. Cause they got him in such a mood the rest rather go to Jessica to report. Even to Peter.

And things were awful if people started to come to Peter for giving reports.

Sometimes you could hear him grumbling spanish nonsense to none but himself. With a deep sigh and a silent prayer to whoever above for you to not be killed in the go, you surpassed the doorframe.

As soon as you did the subtle tinge in your spider senses, thrummed through your body. A shaky breath was trapped on the state of his lab. Nothing but a mix of pitch black darkness and the red, ominous glow from the screens, barely illuminating his way, and outlining his heaving figure.

"Miguel?"

Your voice taunted and beady crimson eyes immediately locked on you.

"Here's the reports from last week. They're already done-"

Your throat gulped involuntarily upon picking up the ragged pants and heaves exhaling from his trembling mouth.

"Leave." he grunted and you frowned. He wasn't only a pain in the ass but a walking contradiction. How he wanted things done asap if he didn't even bother to take a look?

You were about to protest but a pained and shaky whimper from him, alerted you.

"You want me to leave when you're probably injur-"

"Fucking Leave!"

He roared, more concerned of what might happen if you didn't do exactly as you were being told.

"Mig..." Your eyes widened as he wheezed on the floor, the same black goo you saw back at Klyntar, was engulfing your sometimes lover at an alarming rate, that had Miguel grunting and growling as the amorphous creature fought to swallow him whole. But as you stepped closer he hissed your way, stopping you.

"I-I can smell you." He seethed through clenched teeth, struggling to remain in control of his words alone. But the statement made your brows furrow in disbelief. Hands rose in defense as you approached a step closer, to try and get the sentient slime out of him.

"The hell? I took a shower today you ass!." You mumbled while getting Lyla to fetch the Spider doc to the lab, trying to keep him grounded. Your spider senses tingled louder and harder the more you saw him fight against the thing.

"Not that kind of smell, you foolish woman."

But the sudden change of tone made you shiver. It wasn't him speaking, but something more eldritch and dern that finally managed to swallow him whole and overlapped it's voice with his.

The squishing noise ended in a lurid gurgle as a massive and dark figure stood before you. Breathing as if learning the proper way to inhale it for the first time. Drunk in the very air you exhaled, oozing with pheromones.

"M-Miguel?"

Miguel was big, but not this behemoth of a creature, crawling in it's own skin made out of abyss and darkness, in which chest remained your boss' spider emblem, fiery and bright red, like if fire itself emanated from within.

"I can smell you, little spider"

It took a moment for you to understand the implications of such words. You knew in this specific part of your cycle pheromones turned a bit more pungent. A reason why you remained in your dimension.

Even though colorless, the creature's eyes narrowed in a leering and borderline predatory glare towards you.

For every step forward he did, you took two back

"I gotta... Uh-" Your politeness melted into a pool as soon as the dangerous set of sharp teeth stretched over his lips, revealing a twisted wolfish grin that would put any creature to shame.

Your senses reached the peak of their alarmed state with a single thought.

Run.

Your feet didn't need to be told twice as they took you away from the creature's presence. An underworld roar echoed within Miguel's station.

You didn't know if it was a good or a bad idea. But it mattered little when the creature, the symbiote, chased after you. The earth trembled and echoed with every powerful lunge he gave.

You jumped through a window, and swung through the buildings and cars, throwing an occasional load of webs to slow him down that proved a nuisance if anything.

"Run, little spider, RUN!"

The ominous laugh echoed through the night. He jumped through structures, following the delicious scent you left behind.

If Miguel could recall, he had been studying symbiotes ever since the web of life showed him the many bad turns a Spider could take. He knew they were nasty creatures when finding a proper host.

Vicious and harmful parasites that did nothing but corrupt, if the host's willpower was weak. What Miguel couldn't decide yet was if he was being corrupted for giving in into his need to mate, or if the parasite had made him bigger, faster and more powerful because he knew he needed to mate, accepting his current emotions and feeding the creature's crave with them.

And your pheromones and stress only added another delicious smell to the list. The phenethylamine running rampant in your brain made his heightened senses to tingle in wicked delight.

His smile only grew wider.

With a powerful lurch, he jumped through buildings to finally catch you mid air before you shot your web again. His whole hand wrapped around you while he held you tightly over the building's ledge.

Bit by bit the row of sharp teeth appeared within his mask, to unleash his serpent like and slimy tongue out that, didn't waste a second longer and took a taste of your skin by licking your cheek.

"Let Miguel go!"

Voice firm, although your hands quivered while trying to pry yourself out of his steely grasp.

"Let him go?" Miguel laughed, but you knew this wasn't your Miguel.

Was he?

He wasn't harming you, if anything he was just licking your neck with that abnormally large tongue of his

"He's the one in control, spiderling."

The goo spreaded around you, like tiny and sentient webs that grope and tangled around your inner thighs, up your abdomen, breast and arms, swallowing your body, like it did with Miguel.

The ones around your arms secured their grip around your wrist, pulling and locking the limbs immediately behind your back.

Your little cries only ebbed him to inch closer to your face, the web extensions grope tighter, suffocating your suit.

Miguel's sharp talon slid softly on the fabric, giving the creature the perfect chance to rip the remaining linens to shreds off.

A yelp was drowned as his long tongue slid in within your mouth. Coiling and twisting on yours, subjugating the wet muscle effortlessly.

Your eyes clamped shut upon feeling the same sensation in your nipples.

The symbiote's biomass had split and smaller versions of his mouth appeared to immediately latch on each of your nipples.

With half lidded eyes and a swirling mind, your body squirmed at the delicious sensations running rampant through each cell that composed your form.

You were allowed to breath as the symbiote pulled his tongue out. Within seconds you were flipped upside down, head dipping into the abyss of buildings and landscapes underneath.

For a second you thought you'd fall down, but the steely grip in your body was foolproof. Monstrous hands spreaded your supple thighs open, your skin crawled with the deep, demonic growl grumbling in his chest upon taking a deep inhale of your cunt.

You could see him relish in it, as his salivation increased. Tongue teased by taking a deliberate slow lick on your folds.

"Y-You'll let me f-Nnghh!-"

Your teeth clenched in an acute whimper but eventually a shaky and loud gasp came out of your throat as Miguel or rather the symbiote plunged his tongue inside your heat with ease. Slimy texture tasted and twisted within.

His tongue curled and slurped your insides vehemently, tearing lovely and desperate cries from your pretty mouth. Composure cracked with each second as the tiny mouths sucked and kissed your nipples like no tomorrow. As if coaxing the dormant milk out of them was their main and only mission.

The symbiote lapped and gulped down the juices that soaked his tongue. You mewled and moaned, completely lost in the drowning debauchery the creature provided. His tongue felt heavenly as it slithered and fucked your insides with such viciousness you could feel your tightness trembling and succumbing to his corruption game.

The neglect in your body was catching up to his ministrations. It bent and twisted like putty into his mutated hands. A streak of drool oozed from the corner of your mouth as you gifted his ears with your sweet pathetic little cries.

Clit throbbed the more he pressed and curled his tongue against your cervix, teasing it nonstop.

You shouldn't enjoy it. You couldn't be enjoying it, but here you were, secretly begging him to keep going, to quench that urge flooding your rationality even if it ruined you.

Miguel ate like no other, that was much true, but this dark mass of living alien goo had your walls spasming and milking around him, and your brain synapses crazy with raw delight.

And when he had enough of your sweet cunt, the biomass etched you to his chest. To then jump out the ledge and land into a darkened area from another building.

His body spat you on the floor, but quickly propped you on your feet. His darkened giggles crawled underneath your skin, to then gasp as his hand crushed your frame against the thick glass. Hot pants echoed in a foggy cloud on the sheer surface, chest flattened against the sturdy crystal while your arms remained locked behind you. His fingers immediately pulled back your hair, arching your flexible spine to look up at him.

"Such a needy little spider"

His tongue licked your lips, the mouths latched once more in your nipples, earning him nothing but a exquisite sob

"So eager to be ruined."

Deep within your alarms flared upon feeling something hard and twitching behind you, at first you thought of it nothing but another extention of his mutated form until it positioned right in your drenched hole.

A pant turned into a wheeze as his broad tip pushed in, easing inch by inch.

Your eyes rolled back at the obscene size of his invading cock, stretching and molding your walls to his girth.

A choked gurgle came out of your gaping pit, panting for a much needed gulp of air. Your toes barely touched the ground as he bottomed deep, bulging and pulsing proudly inside your womb.

Your brain was turned into nothing but a puddle, swirling inside your head with every breath the creature behind you exhaled, all while he embedded and trapped you against the wall with his monstrous frame and cock.

The Symbiote's hand held your hips firmly, guiding you up and down with powerful yet paused strokes on himself, like a life sized fleshlight. Making sure your walls learned and memorized every curve and tangent of his twitching cock while receiving him whole with a wet squelch.

"S'big-" you wheezed with half lidded eyes, struggling to remain aware and sane. But how could you achieve such feat when air was lacking in your lungs and your brain tingled with the underlying need to procreate. You were in the peak of your fertile days.

And him was more than willing to give you exactly what you needed. Symbiote, Miguel, it didn't matter anymore who plowed you. You truly couldn't care less.

"Enough games." the creature seethed and with a tighter grip on your hair, he smacked your hips in a powerful thrust, knocking out all remaining air in your burning lungs. Then another and another and-

Oh god

You came. And came hard, clenching ever tight around him in violent and ruthless spasms. Shaky mewls and pleas turned into slurred screams but that didn't stop him. Your toes curled in.

His smile twisted upwards, before shoving it's tongue back in your throat as his hips begun ramming in a merciless tempo. Obliterating any remnants of common sense in your frying and overriding brain.

Good was too weak to actually describe the feeling. Something too raw, too vicious, viscerally inexpressible, like the unceasing whomps of his hips. Like, him.

Your mouth was unable to properly vocalize the searing heat the Symbiote's lust stirred within. Chipping away your need to stop him and simply take his swollen and pulsating cock the many times he pressed in.

Cause in truth, what else could you do but take it? To take it fast and remorselessly deep, with no signs of him stopping. Not when his snarls rumbled behind and his hot breath fanned over your face and neck. The mouths on your breast removed themselves with a pop, leaving your nipples puffed and swollen

Tears pooled in the inner corner of your lids, and soon slid down on each side of your cheek. Your voice was reduced to nothing but meek grunts and hushed breaths, to finally dissolve into a stuttering groan as your eyes widened at the hefty load of his seed being shot deep. Hot and spurting directly in your womb.

Your eyes rolled back as he pressed imposibly deep, overfilling you. His frame trembled upon sensing your womb trapping him, drinking and swallowing greedily every last of his drops, choking him exquisitely. A satisfied and animal-like growl rumbled through his chest.

But it wasn't enough.

His tongue pulled out of your throat, letting you have some air as a reward for withstanding him.

Your arms were numb, like your mind, legs too lightweight to support your whole frame. Too fucked out and overstimulated to articulate a proper word as you slumped against the glass wall that fogged in every weak breath exhaled.

Miguel's eyes raked over your body and smirked proudly. The dark and living webs fetched your quivering figure.

His eyes remained on your leaking hole and pushed all the escaping cum back inside with his slimy tongue.

"It needs to be inside" He grunted and pressed your head against the floor, while his webs spreaded your hips again.

Ass up high, he buried deep once again, earning a sweet and needy scream and some of his cum to spurt out in the floor in a lecherous splatter, pooling underneath your poor bouncing hips.

The rough and rhythmic slap slap slap deafened your pleas and begs. Your breast bounced at the wicked beat of his pistoning hips. Throat scrapped raw, breathless. Eyes glossy, too gone to a dark place where he was the undisputed sovereign.

"You spiderlings are so fragile" The symbiote smirked while his hand held your head in place.

"Miguel-"

His name was repeated over and over, like if you were learning it for the first time. Clit throbbed with such intensity it had your head shaking. Fighting to keep your sanity intact as his heavy balls slapped whatever skin they could reach.

"Can't-" you grunted between clenched teeth, eyes danced erratically, like your blown breaths. Your knuckles and toes turned white at the sheer pressure you held them in.

"You can't what?" The overlapping mirthful voices sent another painful throb in your punished pussy, "Is it too much for you?"

The brief and sadistic laugh echoed through the skies.

"How weak."

With a snarl and a deep plow, he sheathed, the webs lifted you and curled you on your own to see how his enormous cock buried inside and pulsated.

Thick and throbbing veins adorned his base, every contraction meant more hot spurts of his seed, flooding your already stuffed womb.

There was no sound from you this time. Your brain had shut off and you laid limp, on the floor, quivering and twitching at the minimum graze of air. The webs around your wrist were loosened, freeing your tingling arms.

The little puddle of cum kept growing underneath the more your muscles spasmed and contracted.

"Ten"

Your breath hitched, while trying to get up.

"Nine."

He sung and you whimpered, crawling away from him.

"Eight"

Your legs didn't move but rather quiver. It was amusing for him to see you gasp while trying to stand.

"Seven"

"W-Wait" You mumbled, feeling the remnants of pleasure toying with your mind.

Part of you knew that if you stayed, he'd destroy you completely, but if you go, you'd gain a bit more of time to let your body heal enough to withstand another round.

"Six."

You tried shooting a web. But nothing came out.

"C'mon!"

"Five"

A chill ran down your spine as you slapped your wrist, finally mustering some strength to stand up with wobbly legs. Your nakedness didn't matter, not when a symbiote had taken over your boss, corrupting him to the point of him playing the mouse and cat through the city.

"Four" He tittered with malice.

And finally you managed to shoot some. Naked or not you supported on the wall to catch some air before shooting again and swinging.

"Three"

He watched you go after covering your bits to spare you some shame in case someone saw you. But quickly frowned when disappearing through a portal.

The symbiote however left Miguel's body to latch on his back. His eyes held a different gleam, teeth sharper.

Soon, his seed would work, but he had to make sure your womb harbored enough of him so his future seedling grew.

"Lyla, where is she?"

"Back in her dimension-"

He cut her off before she kept talking. The alien goo swallowed him whole again, regaining his gigantic frame.

"One."

The hunt was on.

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #symbiote suit #Symbiote! Miguel #monster fucker #Miguelverse #Spotify

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sthavoc · 2 months

Note

Hiii! Love your work! Could you do one like there are rumors Enzo really likes skinny blondes and you feel insecure of your curves and dark hair and eyes so you avoid him to not fall harder for him and he notices, but then all of you go out to have fun and you start dancing bachata with a stranger but Enzo is like oh hell no let me show you how to dance with a real man, you can choose the ending ! thank youuuuu

🕺🏼💃🏻⭒˚｡ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x darkhair!curvey!reader

𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: after hearing about the rumors of enzo only liking blondes with skinny bodies, you attempt to push your feelings aside by avoiding him. Which Is not easy to do so when both of you are in the same friend group and get invited to go out for a few drinks. but as they say, rumors are just rumors.

𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: alcohol. jealousy

𖥔 ࣪˖ note: holy crap you’re blessing us with this request!! I hope u enjoy it!<3 and omg it reminded me of this edit that i’ll leave the link HERE if u haven’t seen it… yk I had to use that song. I hope there’s no grammar mistakes.

You don’t remember the last time you ever felt like you wanted to cry for a boy. Or in this case, a man. That was because you never did. I mean, not for a man but you did for boys. Always setting their standards to perfect. That pissed you off.

So when you heard about the rumors of Enzo only having an eye for blonde-headed girls with skinny waists and perfect bodies, you felt as if your chance of being with him was gone. Yet you couldn’t help but like him, and you were mad at yourself for that. Your heart would ache with the feeling that every time you thought you had finally found someone with a good kind heart would turn out to want something you just didn’t have. You started thinking the only way to get rid of those feelings was to ignore him, and you started to do so.

Every day after work, if the guys invited you somewhere and you knew Enzo would be there, your immediate answer would always be. “Lo siento tengo cosas que hacer.” or “No me siento bien.”

Which was all bullshit. The guys themselves knew it was bullshit, but they didn’t want to push it. Matias knew the truth though. He once caught you crying after a scene and you couldn’t lie to him, you told him everything. He tried his very best to make you feel better, almost using every small technique he would know due to his relationship with Male. You were thankful, but nothing would help. After those days that you had cut all kinds of contact with Enzo, you felt as if you were getting better.

It's possible that your feelings for him may have faded, but you won't know for sure until you see or talk to him. However, you don't want to take that risk.

You were currently in the process of gathering your belongings to head back to your hotel room for a relaxed afternoon. You had planned on spending the day watching a movie, maybe sipping on some wine. While making your way towards the exit, Juani appeared in front of you with a grin on his face, causing you to come to a sudden halt and emit a squeaky noise from your sneakers.

“Juani, no espantes por Dios.” You sighed staring at the blue-eyed boy. “¿Que se te ofrece?” Your hand clutched the strap of your duffle bag that rested on your shoulder.

“Que vengas de joda con nosotros.” His brows raised and yours furrowed. “Dale que ya no sales con nosotros nunca. Te la vives en el hotel.”

He was right. Being alone in your hotel room every night made you feel like you were back in high school, when you would stay home every day because you had no one to hang out with. But now, you do have people to spend time with, and yet you're pushing them away. All because of a man.

You blinked a couple of times before you swallowed for your answer. “Bueno, dale.”

Juani throws a thumbs up in the air and smiles behind you which makes you confused. His action made you turn around and you noticed some of the guys there. Juani focused his attention on you and then spoke—

“A las 7:00 p.m.” He points at you before heading back to the group of guys who you assumed were waiting for him.

—

The music was blasting in your ears, and you could feel the thumping rhythm echoing through your chest. This was just the kind of hang-out you needed, a break from all the overthinking about the Enzo situation and the draining work. It was time to let loose and have some fun.

Until—

“Hasta que te dejas ver nena.” Enzo.

Your cheeks held the bitter liquor and you swallowed slowly as you looked at him. A nervous laugh escapes your lips before you respond. “Sí. ¿Verdad?”

“Te diría que me estuvieras evitando eh.” Which you were doing.

“No-no. Cómo crees.” You lied as a scowl followed your complexions.

You were relieved when the rest of the boys joined you and were quick to take Enzo’s attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you waved for the bartender to fill up your cup again. You didn’t take long to down it all and ask for another, that was until you felt a figure sit on to the stool next to you. Your face turned towards their direction and it was a guy.

“Una chica como tú no debe de andar sola eh.” He raises his brows for a second before his index finger points towards you.

You chuckled dryly as you responded. “No, no estoy sola. Estoy con ellos.” You motion towards the boys, while glancing back. That’s when you realized Enzo was gone.

“Tienes a tu equipo de guardaespaldas.” He jokes causing a giggle to leave your lips. “Te invito otra.” pointing towards your glass he calls the bartender to refill your glass.

“Gracias pero no tenías por qué.” You smiled kindly.

“Para nada. Eres linda y te ves como el tipo de chica que es divertida.” He shrugged taking a sip of his drink. “¿Como te llamas?”

“T/N.”

“Alejandro.”

“Mucho gusto.” You took a sip of your drink.

After a moment you turned to look around and you saw everybody on the dance floor move without a care in the world. You wanted to dance, and it seemed like Alejandro noticed it too.

“¿Bailamos?” He requested. You thought about it for a moment, and you weren’t going to deny that he was cute. But this was also someone who could maybe be interested in you. Plus, this was supposed to be a fun night out.

“Sí.” You grabbed his hand and walked over to the dance floor.

The boys watched as you walked away with Alejandro. Some looked surprised and some had smirks on their lips. The music changed into a Spanish one. Bachata to be exact. Propuesta Indecente by Romeo Santos played. Everyone who had a partner started to dance and move their hips sensually. Alejandro’s hands began resting on the curve of your hips and you positioned yours to lock behind his neck.

The two of you began to move your hips to the music and you would roll your body against his. Though you hadn’t noticed it, Enzo was staring at the both of you dance. He had gone to the bathroom and when he came back, he wasn't pleased with what he saw.

“Te la robaron pelotudo.” Juani makes fun of him. Enzo only turned to look at him with a cold stare. “No me mires así que no es mi culpa.”

“¿Quien es ese?” Enzo asked with a motion of his chin towards the both of you.

“No sabemos, vino y se le acercó a la nena.” Rocco took a sip of his drink and then answered.

Enzo could only continue staring at the two of you before he thought of something. He downed his drink before he turned to look at Juani. “Fíjate que a mí nadie me la roba.”

“Espérate pero que haces salame.” Matías’ voice only got quieter as Enzo walked closer to the both of you and got farther from them.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you and Enzo locked eye while stopping Alejandro.

“¿No te molesta si dejas que te la robe?” Enzo directed a question towards Alejandro, but his gaze seemed to be fixed on you.

“Eh— no, no. Para nada.” After a brief pause, he strode off the dancefloor.

“¿Pero que haces? Sí estábamos bailando perfectamente.” You questioned with furrowed eyebrows. He was ruining your moment.

“Ay, dale chiquita que eso no fue bailar bien—” He grabbed your hand, setting his on your waist before he pulled you towards him making you bump your chest onto his. His action made you look up at him. “Yo te enseño a bailar con un hombre.”

His leg was set between yours and you felt how he began to move the two of you. With his hands on your hips, you didn’t even need to move them, he guided you. His whole body rolled on yours, and you felt how his hand turned you around so you would back face him. This was new. Your lips were opened in surprise as his breathing hit your neck. Your hair was all messy and a few strings rested on your face. You could even feel how the exposed skin of your stomach came in contact with the pads of his fingers.

He pulled back as he began to twirl you around for a few seconds. Your hair moved everywhere with you as he kept increasing the speed of your twirl. Until he stopped and pulled you back towards him when the beat dropped. Your breathing was insane as you looked up to him, he only stared at you with a smirk while he continued to rest his hands on the curves of your waist.

Before the song ended, he added a final twist where he ended up pulling you by the back of your neck and connecting your foreheads. As the music changed, you became aware of your breath and adjusted it to a more comfortable level.

He chuckled when he noticed that you were left speechless.“¿Que, te comió la lengua el ratón?”

You stammered around your words but managed to spit them out. “No sabía que bailabas tan bien.”

“No es algo que haga con cualquiera.” He shrugged not thinking too much about it.

You gazed at him, your cheeks flushed with warmth. “Pues eres muy bien bailador.”

As he gazed at you, a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins, emboldening him to ask the question that had been on his mind—

“¿Me dejas llevarte a comer?” He speaks without thinking once again.

“¿Me estás invitando a salir?” To be fair, you seemed genuinely confused about everything that was happening.

“Sí.” He nodded not thinking much of his answer.

You experienced a mix of emotions - happiness because he asked you out, but confusion because you thought he had a specific taste, which wasn't you.

“Pensé que solo te gustaban las rubias.” You had decided to speak your thoughts. That question had made Enzo confused, and his expression briefly revealed his bewilderment—

“¿Como?”

“¿Sí. Rubias, con cuerpos perfectos” A nod followed your words. Enzo laughed, causing anger to rise in your face.“¿De que te ríes?”

“¿De donde sacas tremenda cosa nena?” As he talks, he draws out the final word, while putting his hand in the air and scrunching his eyebrows.

“todos lo dicen.” You say, which only adds to his confusion.

He clicked his tongue as he opened his mouth. “Ya y con todos imagino que decís las fans.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked at you. “Nena, no puedes creer todo lo que ves en el internet.”

You swallowed, a bit embarrassed. “Tienes razón.”

“Esta bien. ¿Pero qué dices? Déjame llevarte a una cita. Y te demuestro que no solo me gustan las rubias con cuerpos perfectos.” He came closer.

He had a sincere expression on his face, indicating that he was telling the truth. You couldn't deny that you were pleased to hear that the rumors about the man you liked were false. You still had a chance with him, and you weren't going to let it slip away.

“Dale.” You smiled as his lips mirrored your expression.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo vogrincic x you #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic one shot

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milesmolasses · 11 months

Text

Trust Don’t Work (Earth 42! Miles x black! fem reader)

Earth 42 miles finna make me act up hes so damn fine

AND I THINK HE MY AGE!!!

don’t y’all just love thug livin?

on my tupac type beat

Warnings: kinda toxic relationship, mentions of blood and killing

From what you knew, Miles Morales was a hard working guy. Always around doing God knows what as he barely has time for anything else, other than his work. The time that you get to spend with your boyfriend is very limited throughout the day, whether it be short-lived dinners when he comes home, or his lips on yours as he’s about to walk out the door and go back to work.

When you first asked Miles about what kind of work he does that has him out and about all day, he told you, “Don’t worry about that mami, just worry about getting your pretty little nails done.”

And that’s exactly what you did. If Miles didn’t want you worrying about what he did for work, then you thought that you should respect his privacy and his wishes. However, respecting his wishes became difficult when he began coming home in the middle of the night with specs of blood on his jackets and shirts.

Lord knows you would stay up late until Miles finally came home, and when you would try to talk to him, his response would always be “Don’t worry about it ma.”

“What the hell is this... Jesus, Miles are you bleeding? Who did this to you? Did you get in a fight? Miles talk to me-”

“Yo, didn’t I say you don’t gotta worry about it? Dios mío I’m fine ma, now take yo ass to bed,” he said in annoyance whilst walking past you.

It was becoming an ongoing cycle of you questioning Miles every night when he came home and him brushing it off like it was nothing. That was until one day, Miles came home days after he left. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he didn’t even leave you a note telling you he would be gone for a while.

The first time he left for a couple of days, you almost had a panic attack. For all you knew he was dead already. Thoughts of him being found dead somewhere on the streets plagued your mind, sending you into a frenzy of calling him and texting him, desperately needing to hear his voice. It wasn’t until he came home two days later to see you angry crying when he apologized for scaring you so bad.

“Mami, you gotta understand it was a stupid mistake. I was out on business for a couple days, and I forgot to tell you. Por favor, I’m sorry. I ain’t mean to scare you like this Ma.”

Learning his lesson, whenever he had to go for a couple days he left you a note on your refrigerator, saying that he would be gone and not to worry about him. This is when you really began to want answers as to what your boyfriend was doing. There was no way he was working no 9 to 5 and being gone for three days. You needed an explanation as to what was going on.

You chose to try asking Miles what he did for work once again. You sat him down and tried having a one on one conversation with him, slowly leading him up to the big question you wanted to ask. When you had finally asked it, Miles seemed upset with you. He had told you multiple times not to worry about what he did because as long as it paid the bills, you shouldn’t have to worry about what he does.

“Miles, you come home with blood on you and I don’t see you for three days and you expect me not to ask you these questions? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You want this relationship to work, you need to put in the fucking work. I need you to tell me the truth,” you said as you paced around your apartment.

What you wanted to be a calm conversation had quickly turned into an argument between the two of you. At this point, it wasn’t even about what Miles did for work, it was about the fact that he was lying straight to your face 24/7.

“What happened to you saying that a relationship needs boundaries? What, now that I have my boundaries set straight you wanna cross them?” he asked. “If I don’t want you to know what I do for work, then that should be that! You trying to press me to say something that I don’t feel needs to be said, is crossing my boundaries!”

Arguments, like these became frequent; the longer his lie went on, the more your trust for him began to crumble. The more you tried to question him, the more walls he put up between the both of you. It wasn’t until one morning when you turn on channel 2 news to see none other than New York City’s newest vigilante in the limelight.

He had a mask on so you couldn’t see his true face, but cascading down from his head you recognized those two long frizzy braids anywhere,

“Oh my God…”

It was like your whole world was falling apart — the man you loved, was out in the world killing people. Though yes, these people were terrible people who were wreaking havoc upon New York City, that still didn’t change the fact that your boyfriend, Miles Morales, was killing people.

Your breathing began to pick up, your eyes searching the room frantically for something, anything to make this horrible feeling go away. You gripped the edge of the couch, shaking your head, praying a mantra of denial and trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t real.

“No… no no no no no this can’t be real- this can’t be happening, no it’s not him.”

When Miles came home the next day, you couldn’t even look at him. You knew. You knew what he was doing for “work,” that he was killing people and making deals with others. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Miles realized you were acting strange toward him.

“Mami? Mami ¿qué tal? You’re acting weird,” he said as he sat next to you on the couch, nudging you. You had both legs up with your hands wrapped around your knees; almost like you were cradling yourself.

“I’m fine baby.. just a little tired,” you tried getting up from the couch, not wanting to be near him now that you were fully aware of what he was doing. You didn’t know how to feel about him anymore.

Miles pulled you back down to the couch by your shoulders as he said, “Nuh-uh, hàblame. I’m not just gonna let you get up and leave me without talking about this first-“

“Who said I was gonna leave you? Huh? Is that what you think Miles, that I’m gonna leave you-” you questioned him with your eyes wide open looking at him. He looked at you, surprised by your small outburst.

“What? N-no mi amor I meant leave the couch.. are you good you’ve been acting like this for a while now?”

It was happening. You know you would have to tell him that you found out what he was doing, but you just didn’t think it would have to be so soon.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Huh-? Baby what are you talking abo-”

“I know you’re the vigilante on the news. I know it’s you Miles, I seen the braids on his head so don’t even try to deny it!”

Miles slowly took his hand off your shoulder, surprised at what you just told him. Jesus Christ how could you have guessed just by the braids on his head?

“Okay… you know… what do you want me to say about that?” he said, careful not to tread too close to your emotions.

“I want you to tell me why,” you said, putting your head in your hands trying so hard not to let the tears flow. Miles could hear the way your voice cracked as you tried to get the right words out. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doing it for you Ma-“

“No you’re not, cause I ain’t never ask for you to go leave this house and kill people! I never asked for that shit man!”

Miles sat there, bewildered. Just looking at you and your convulsing body as you were full out sobbing into your hands. He couldn’t think of what to say. Nothing would fix this, nor what he had done. You were right, we was a killer. But he had always tried his best to keep that side of him private. All he wanted was to protect you from the ugly side of his life. If he had openly told you he was the Prowler, a target would be instantaneously attached to your back.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, his phone rang in his pocket. He slowly sat up to grab it and tell the person calling that now was not the time. But when he heard his uncle Aaron telling him he needed him outside to complete unfinished business, he had no clue what to say in the moment. After a few silent beats and a sigh, he quietly agreed over the phone to meet up with him.

You turned your head to the side to see miles ending the phone call. He turned to look at you, head scrambling to find an excuse to tell you he needed to go in the middle of an argument.

You turned your head back into your hands as you told him with no emotion evident in your voice,

“Just get out man…”

ooooooooo milessssssssss

lol this was fun y’all!

I love Miles G. so imma be sure to write smth more light hearted for the next one

Idk if he’s a lil OOC but we don’t really even know what his character personality is yet

y’all I don’t speak spanish, so for the little spanish I put in here I hope I ain’t screw it up 😭

and if I did, feel free to tell me!!!

#miles morales #earth42 miles #miles g #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman miles morales #milesmolasses

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spidybaby · 11 months

Text

Begin Again | part one

Summary: Secrets can't be held forever. Specifically, not the one you keep from him.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: The dividers I'm using are from @cafekitsune All credits to them ❤️✨️

Part two

December 2025

"No, Pedro! No puedo calmarme, estas bromeando?" (No Pedro, I can't calm down, are you joking?) You were shouting at this point. "Estas bromeando?" You repeat.

"¡No! Joder, no estoy bromeando!" (No, Fuck, I'm not joking) his tone elevates as much as yours.

You cover your face with your hands, feeling the tears wetting them.

"Cuatro putos años, Pedro." (Four fucking years, Pedro.) You shout again. "No me vengas a decir estupideces, anoche me hablabas de casarnos y hoy te dio por olvidar todo eso?" (Don't fuck with me, yesterday we were talking about marriage and today you forgot about all of that?) You couldn't believe his words. "Me estas jodiendo, dime por favor que me estas jodiendo" (you're joking, please tell me you're joking).

He stayed silent, time passing as you only waited for him to start laughing and tell you he was pranking you.

"Amor," you took his face in your hands. "Por favor no hagas esto, tu y yo podemos con todo, lo hemos hecho siempre, Pedro, por favor" (Please don't do this, you and I will get over everything, we've done it before).

You were begging him in denial of the situation.

"Pepi, por favor."

His eyes were fixed on something. He was trying as hard as possible not to look at you. He knew if he did everything he just told you, it was going to be taken back.

He press his hands on your wrists and slowly took your hands away from his face.

"Lo siento," he whisper "lo siento pero no puedo." (I'm sorry I can't).

He let go of you, not looking once at your. Took his jacket and keys and walked to the front door. "Por favor, ve a Portofino, no lo dejes ir por mi, no valgo la pena. Haz tu vida y déjame atrás." (Please go to Portofino, don't let that go because of me, I'm not worthy. Live your own life and leave me behind).

You saw his car getting away from your house.

The tears never stopped. Your body was now on the floor, crying louder than before, the pain I your chest was growing stronger by the minute.

January 2026

"Bueno niña, todo listo y ordenado. Amo la vista por cierto." (Okay, girl, everything is done and ready. I love this view, by the way). Your brother Paulo says he's the one helping you with the moving.

You got an offer to be part of this big company in Portofino.

"Venga, cambia la cara, todo estará bien, me tienes a mi acá y Elena prometió venir a verte cada dos semanas, estas bien" (c'mon, don't act like that, everything will be fine, you have me here and Elena will visit you every two weeks). He pat you in the back, forcing you into a hug.

You accept the forced hug but only for a moment, after that you shove your brother away from you.

"Debería estar feliz." You say walking to the couch. "Pero no puedo estar feliz, Paulo. No sin él." (I should be happy, but I can't Pualo, not without him).

Your eyes water, you have everything you wanted, a big start, the job of your dreams, everything but him.

"No llores, por favor no de nuevo." Paulo runs to your side, hugging you while you cry. "Venga, vamos a dar una vuelta y tomar algunas fotos." (Don't cry, please not again. C'mon, let's go out and about and get you some good photos).

He dried your tears and pulled you out of the couch. Grabbing your purse on the way out to his car, you took out your phone and snapped a picture, sending it to Elena, your best friend.

Paulo took you to a rental of motorcycles, knowing you loved driving one around everytime you visited him.

You two spend the rest of the day laughing and having all the fun you could. You appreciate your brother help. He knew you needed to move on at your own time. A four year relationship was not a thing you left behind in a day.

"Para, deja te tomó una foto para tu insta" he indicates you how to pose for the picture, taking several. (Stop right there. Let me take a photo for your insta).

"Basta, ya son, suficiente," you laugh, getting off the motorcycle. "Igual solo subiré una." (Enough, they're enough, I'll only post one).

You both cheeked the pictures, and he airdrop them to you.

"Subí la foto y pone algo como "amando los nuevos comienzos", no crees?" (Post it and caption it with something like "I love new beginnings).

You laugh but did it.

(Sorry if the picture doesn't adapt to your features. I just use it as inspo. Also this is not portofino but imagine it is, love you)

February 2026

"Elena, apúrate por favor." You say as you touch up your makeup. (Elena, hurry up, please).

You were going to be her +1 at this event in London, Elena was became an influencer way back in the day when you were eighteen, she started posting for fun and suddenly it became a full time job.

A good one, she was always invited to fashion shows, she even did modeling campaigns for big brands. You were happy and thankful because you could borrow some trendi clothes.

"Relax, bebé" she says, coming out of the bathroom. "Tenemos aún como una hora para llegar, bájale" (we have an hour to get there, relax).

"Elena, ya viste la hora?" You say, looking at her with lifted eyebrows. (Did you see the time?).

She looks at her phone, eyes opening as you laugh.

"Okay, vamos c'mon, vamos todos al show, vamos a la obra en una sola maniobra." she sings the Dora the Explorer song, and you only laugh at her.

You make your way to the venue. It was this big event for Dior. They're showing their new makeup line and invite different type of social media presence.

The event was amazing. The Dior team was amazing and made everyone feel welcome. They even gave you a little souvenir.

You left a little earlier because Elena was done for the day, not feeling like socializing with other people but not wanting to be rude.

"Te sientes bien? Estás algo pálida, " Elena says, looking at you carefully. "Queres agua?" (Are you okay? You look pale, do you want some water?).

You were feeling kind of dizzy, but you didn't want to ruin the day with that.

"Toy' bien," you say, drinking from the bottle she opened for you. "Maybe it's the day being too hot." (I'm fine, maybe it's because of the weather, it's too hot).

She only nodded, leaving the conversation for later.

The car ride was rough. You felt to hot, too dizzy and too uncomfortable. But didn't say a word.

As Elena's driver parked in front of the hotel, she was the first to go out. "Sabes que quiero, un carpaccio de salmón." (I want some salmon carpaccio).

She was paying attention to her phone and didn't notice how you were struggling to even hold yourself on the car door.

The last thing you remember was Elena shouting your name and feeling a harsh pain in your head.

Waking up to a painful white light and with a headache was not the ideal thing.

"Ay Paulo, esta despertando." You can hear Elena's voice. (She's waking up).

"Paulo?" Is all you can ask, barely opening your eyes due to the light.

Elena noticed this and turned the switch off.

"Ya esta, relájate." She pushed you back on the bed. "Te golpeaste la cabeza, me asustaste." (It's okay, relax. You hit your head, you scared me).

"Joder, no sé que pasó." Your head is still pounding. "Dónde estamos?" (Fuck, I don't know what happened. Where are we?).

"En el hospital, lista." She says with that obvious tone. "Me diste el susto de mi vida." (At the hospital, dingbat. You scare the shit out of me).

"Paulo, donde esta mi hermano?" You ask remembering about hearing his name. (Where's my brother?).

"En portofino, lo llamé porque el hospital por protocolo lo debe llamar al ser tu contacto de emergencia." (In Portofino, I called him because the hospital did it).

You slowly nodded. Your eyes are open now, but you are still feeling a deep pain.

"No entiendo que paso, estabas bien al salir del evento." Elena was playing the whole event and day with you, trying to find an answer for your pass out. "Tal vez se te bajo el azúcar, esta horrible el calor afuera." (I don't know what happened. You were fine at the event. Maybe your sugar went low. It's pretty hot outside.)

Lucky for you, a doctor walked into the room, making her stop.

"Hi ladies, how are we feeling."

"How do you think?" Elena says and points at you.

"Well, I think that apart from the head, which you don't have any contusion, everything seems fine."

"But, this is not fine." Elena talks again, making the doctor laugh.

"Relax, please." He patts her shoulder. "Her iron went low. It's completely normal, with the weather being hell hot, it's nothing to worry about, I promise."

She nods, smiling shyly.

"And even better news for you miss." He's not talking to you. "You're very healthy, it's good. Let me call a nurse to make sure your little one is also fine."

Your head snaps up very fast. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's a routine thing, we have to make sure mommy and baby are both fine before letting you leave."

You felt like passing out again. "Mommy and baby? You must have the wrong room, I'm not expecting." You're sitting now, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of your headache. "Elena, please tell him."

Elena is as shaken as you're. Being speechless was not a thing in her books, always having something to say at the right time.

"I" she tried but nothing is coming.

"Oh, okay. My bad, " the doctor began seeing your shock. "I didn't meant for you to find out like that, I'm sorry. I'll call the nurse and we can check."

"No!" You snapped. "You need to do another test or whatever I'm not pregnant, I can't be."

The air was reducing around you, feeling a pressure on your chest.

"Wow, no, ma'am, please, let's breathe slowly, I didn't mean for this, sorry." The poor doctor is now in alert mode.

"You, friend, please go out and call a nurse."

Elena does as she's told and goes out of the room.

"No, por favor," you're hyperventilating. "The tests are wrong. Run them again."

The doctor tries everything to calm you down, working a little bit.

Elena and a nurse enter the room. The woman has a machine with her.

"Venga, respira profundamente." Elena is calming you down now. The doctor focuses his attention on the machine.

"Can you open your dress for us, love?" The lovely nurse says. "Just a little on your tummy area will be fine."

Elena helps you with that. Thank goodness your dress was a corset type, and you could undone it upfront.

You calmed a little, the crying stopped, but your breathing still irregular.

"This is going to be cold, okay?" You nod at her words. "Okay, let's see here."

The gel was indeed cold, nothing too crazy for you to handle.

She's pressing the ultrasound thing on your stomach. Yours and Elena's eyes are fixed on the little screen.

"Here it is." She points. "Here's baby."

She's smiling, but you're not, mind blank.

"What about?" Elena starts, out of breath. "What about the heartbeat? Can we hear it?"

Pressing a button was enough for you to hear the little boom boom.

Your eyes water, you let yourself fall onto the hospital bed.

"Stop it." You cry. "Make it stop, please."

"Amiga" Elena tries but you're not having it.

"No, Elena! Stop it, please."

The nurse and doctor look at each other, and she cleans the gel off of you.

"Él tenía que estar aquí, conmigo." You can't stop your tears. "Yo no tendría porque estar sola, se suponia que ambos íbamos a enterarnos juntos, ambos íbamos a planear la sorpresa a los demás, ambos íbamos a hacerlo juntos" (He was supposed to be here with me, I'm not supposed to be here alone, we were supposed to find out together, we were going to plain the announcement, we were doing all of this together).

Elena's eyes are teary. She knows what you mean. She knows your pain.

"Me quiero ir, sácame de acá" (I want to go, take me out of here).

"Can we go?" Elena ask the nurse, who's at this point kind of scared to even talk.

The doctor gives her some indications for you to follow as well as a recipe for prenatal vitamins. Indicating her how to take them.

They both left, saying goodbye to you.

After calming down a little, still very shaken with the news.

Elena helps you as you make your way out of the hospital.

The silence was uncomfortable. You didn't know what to say, and she didn't want to trigger your cries again.

The only thing in your mind is him and all the what ifs.

"Vas a decirle?" Elena broke the silence. (You're telling him?).

You didn't even know your next step, afraid of everything. You only responded by moving your shoulders.

"Sabes que estoy aquí para ti, verdad?" (You know I'm here for you, right?).

You only nod. Just wishing you could wake up for this nightmare.

Lucky you, the driver pull up to the hotel. You exit the car as fast as possible, ignoring Elena calling your name.

You run to the elevator, not waiting for her, just wanting to dissappear on your room. Thankfully, you and Elena had separate rooms.

You slammed the door as you entered, throwing yourself in bed.

After a good hour or so without moving, just existing in bed, you grabbed your phone. Making the mistake of opening Twitter.

You stared at the screen, feeling empty.

Two months.

In two months he replaced you.

After all the "you're irreplaceable."

After four years.

"Okay."

August 2026

"Venga, que parece que cada que te veo estas más grande." Paulo and you are sitting on his couch, his hand on your belly. (C'mon, it looks like every time I see you, you're bigger).

"Paulo," you laugh. "Eso es porque cada vez va creciendo más. Duh." (That's because it's growing constantly).

He laughs as well.

Paulo got so excited when you told him the news.

He loves kids. He's the type of guy who you'll fall in love with just looking at him with a kid.

"El big boy esta cada vez más grande, eso me encanta." (Big boy is getting bigger by the day, I love it.)

"Big boy," you repeat, laughing. "Mami dice que no le gusta que le digas así." (Mom said she doesn't like it when you call him like that).

"A mi me gusta decirle así." (I like calling him that). You caress your belly. "Big boy."

You were thankful for all the support your family gives you.

They didn't judge you or repremend you when you told them the news. Your parents were excited, taking the first flight to Portofino, your brother cried, he was happy to be an uncle.

They even supported your decision of not telling Pedro about the pregnancy.

After the picture of him and that girl, you decided that if he had already moved on with his life, that was okay, but you were moving too, without him.

You blocked all the people from Tenerife and cut ties with all his friends from Barcelona. You even blocked his family from everything. Your brother did the same in support.

Your parents weren't posting or mentioning anything about your baby, not wanting to mention something to the wrong person, and have Pedro and his family find out.

"Te gusta esta foto?" Me la tomé el otro día y Elena quiere que la suba." (Do you like this picture? I took it the other day, and Elena is nagging me to post it). You showed him the picture.

He nods and motivate you to post it too.

So you did.

"Harás una sesión de fotos como mamá te sugirió?" (Are you doing a maternity photoshoot like mom asked you to?)

"No sé, creo que si." (I don't know, I think so).

August 2026

"Dame una sonrisa, mami." The photographer says.

Elena, your mom and you were at Mike Peralta, a big photographer. You mom wanted the best of the best for your maternity shoot.

After a while, you're done with the photos, kind of tired. Being seven months pregnant was making you tired all day.

"Oh mi amor, estas fotos están preciosas," your mom says as Mike shows her the photos. (Oh baby, this pictures are adorable).

You change into the clothes you bring.

Elena, as well as your mother, loved your photos.

"Hola a todos." (Hello, everyone).

A very happy and excited Paulo enters the room with different drinks.

"Un chai latte para Lena, una americano para mamá, un té sin azúcar para Mike, un frappe caramelo para mi y un frappe matcha para ti y para mi big boy." (A chai latte for Lena, a Black Americano for mamá, a tea without sugar for Mike, a Caramel Frappe for me and a matcha frappe for you and big boy). He says, giving each person their drink.

When he gets to you, he kisses your belly as he hands you the drink.

"Paulo, amor mío, ven a ver las fotos." (Paulo, my love, come see the pictures). Your mom dragged him to the computer.

After your mom paid, not letting you do it, you all went back to the house you have in Portugal.

You were thankful for all the opportunities your parents gave you. They worked really hard for you and Paulo to have a nice future.

Something that always made you laugh was that Pedro's fan girls used to say you were a gold digger. Even when you grew up with more money than him.

Having that stability helped you get away from him. Not having to get back to Tenerife to do all the things you were doing.

September 2026

"No puedo creer que este año tenga que ir sola a celebrar mi cumpleaños" (I can't believe that this year I have to celebrate my birthday alone). Elena says, after her birthday dinner, you were in Manchester, she wanted to celebrate there.

You were sad too, it was the first time in all your friendship you didn't celebrate together.

"Tomemos una foto, antes de que te vayas." (Let's take a picture before you leave).

"Estoy bien hinchada, le haces photoshop." (I'm so bloated, photoshop it).

You laugh extra hard.

"Lena, créeme que la única barriga que van a ver es la mía." (The only belly people will see is mine, trust me).

"Okay." She giggle as pose with you in front of the mirror.

Elena left for her party.

She was going to a new club that her boyfriend owned.

She loved parties, and her boyfriend had the perfect places for her to party.

As the night went, she wanted to take some pictures with her whole group. But before anything, she was going to retouch her makeup.

Making her way to the bathroom, she hit someone. Making that person throw the drink in their hand.

"Omg, I'm so sorry." She turned at one table stealing their napkins.

"Elena?"

Her eyes found that person eyes.

"Pedro."

#football angst #football drabble #football fanfic #football smut #football x you #football #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri smut #pedri x reader #pedri #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri gonzalez #pedri x gavi #fc barca #pedri barça #barca #fc barcelona

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bluemoss06 · 2 years

Text

ok another thing noticed about the Utena re-watch in episode 12. Going back to the second Touga duel, I started thinking about why Anthy was really crying here.

Now, one could assume that she's crying because Utena triumphed and, on first watch, Anthy is realizing that she has the chance to be free from being the Rose Bride, thus being moved to tears. Further on in the series it becomes clear how cynical/entrenched Anthy is, so that earlier interpretation feels wrong. So then why does she cry? To do that, I think that we need to examine Anthy's relationship at this point to the two duelists here, Utena and Touga, and their own relationships/parrallels with Akio

From the way she talks, I imagine, to Anthy, this is the duel that decides which duelist Anthy is going to lure to Akio this cycle. The duelist could be either of Utena or Touga. It becomes clear in the show that Touga is trying to emulate Akio so if we tie it back to this duel think that Anthy would have been bound to Touga for the rest of the show if he won, it would be Anthy being stuck with discount-Akio. so then, what is Utena?

Well, Anthy shows it herself during this duel.

Utena is either representing or emulating Dios, the person Akio used to be, the idealistic prince that Anthy locked away out of concern and became a witch and the Rose Bride for. That's the "memory". She isn't crying here out of relief or pure sentimentatlity; Anthy is crying because she realizes she is going to be in pain.

On some level, it will hurt Anthy to spend so much time around someone who acts just like how Akio used to, who has all the idealism that she had inadvertly helped destroy. And it will hurt even more because she knows what fate is in store for Utena, that Akio will soon have her in his clutches.

Anthy is crying because she believes she will see Dios die because of Akio once again.

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #rgu spoilers #anthy himemiya #utena tenjou #utena #utenanthy #touga kiryuu

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estrellami-1 · 11 months

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The Bet

So @artiststarme wrote this blurb about the boys’ first serious argument being about how Steve doesn’t like Ozzy Osbourne. I was on my KNEES in the comment section asking if I could flesh it out, and this is the result. I hope you like it!! ❤️

The thing is, they actually have a really healthy relationship.

Everyone mentions it, whether in response to how similar it is to something their parents do, or something the complete opposite of what their parents do.

“Wait,” Max said once. “Weren’t you just arguing?”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other. “We disagreed,” Steve started cautiously. “That doesn’t mean we were arguing or fighting. Sometimes a disagreement doesn’t end in yelling, y’know? Actually it never has to end in yelling, but people are messy and emotional and that’s what it usually ends up as. But… no. We weren’t really arguing.”

Mike narrowed his eyes at Steve when he came to watch Hellfire once. “What’re you doing here?”

Steve shrugged, smiling. “Watching.”

“Why? You don’t even like D&D.”

“I don’t hate it. And Eddie likes it. We make time to engage in things the other likes. Share interests.”

Mike’s nose wrinkled as he thought about it. “Share interests?”

“That is what I said. He watches basketball with me. Can’t tell me a single thing about it, but he watches and gets excited whenever I do.”

“And we share music with each other,” Eddie added, smirking. “Stevie here’s officially a fan of Dio.”

The thing is, they don’t really argue. It gets to the point where people are starting to bet on when and what their first fight would be about.

Eddie brings it up during band practice one day. “I just don’t get it,” he says. “Steve and I have, arguably, the healthiest relationship out of anybody we know, and now everyone’s fucking betting on our first argument? Do they want us to fight? Do they want us to break up?”

“I mean,” Jeff starts cautiously, “You two are an unlikely pair. He’s part of the group that bullied us in high school. You two couldn’t really be more different if you tried. Like, I get that opposites attract or whatever, but some similarities could be a good thing, y’know?”

Eddie stares for a minute, then abruptly says, “Okay, so I’m not sure about the key on the first song,” and that’s it. Band practice continues.

Eddie, however, is stuck on that moment. He thinks about it all the way home, is preoccupied enough that Steve surprises him when he walks over and slides a hand over his back. “Eds?”

Eddie jumps slightly before turning to face Steve, inadvertently dislodging the hand on his back. “Steve?” Steve stays quiet, lets him think, put the words in the right order. “Do… do you think we’re too different?”

Steve jerks back in shock. “What? Eddie, where is this coming from?”

Eddie shakes his head, sighs, drags fingers through his hair. Won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “No, sorry, it’s stupid, just drop it.”

Steve ducks to catch his gaze, smiling hopefully up at him. “Hey. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know,” Eddie says, then turns around. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you,” Steve returns. “To answer your question, though… I don’t think we’re too different. I mean, We’re working out pretty fine right now. We communicate, we work out our problems… we love each other, plain and simple. We try to get into each others interests. Sure, there are probably things each of us will never really love—you and basketball, for example, and I just don’t understand the hype surrounding Ozzy Osbourne—but-”

“Wait,” Eddie interrupts, brows furrowing. “You don’t get the hype surrounding Ozzy Osbourne?”

Steve shrugs. “No, not really. I don’t like his music.”

“Oh, that- that’s great.” He huffs a hysterical laugh and begins to pace. “I play him constantly, Steve, and you’ve never once said anything?”

“I don’t-”

“And if that’s a lie, what else? D&D? Metallica? Dio?”

“That’s not-”

“Hell, I told Mike that you liked Dio! Was that a lie?”

“No, it-”

“Do I have to go to Mike fuckin’ Wheeler and tell him I lied? Because you don’t tell me things like ‘I don’t like Ozzy Osbourne’?”

“It’s called being in a relationship,” Steve says, louder than either of them had been up to that point. “And I could say the same of you! I know you hate sports. I know you don’t understand basketball and you think football is boring. You refuse to run with me. I know you don’t like it but I thought that’s part of loving each other. Doing so in spite of everything we don’t like. Or has it all been an act for you? Is it all a character you’re playing?” He snaps his mouth shut, takes a few deep breaths, and shakes his head. “I’m going home. Come to me when you’re ready to talk, instead of throwing accusations at me.”

And there Eddie’s left, gripping onto the kitchen counter, watching as Steve walks out the door.

A few days later, Robin Buckley storms in. “Edward Munson, what the hell did you do?”

“Whoa there, missy,” Wayne says. “What’s got you up in a huff?”

Robin does, indeed, huff. “Eddie upset Steve.”

Wayne raises a brow, considers her, then nods. “How about a cup of tea after you’re done yellin’ at him?”

Robin stops short, thinks about it, and nods. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

Wayne just chuckles and shoos her in the direction of Eddie’s room.

She slams the door open, watching as Eddie jumps a foot into the air, his wide eyes opening even wider as he realizes who he’s looking at. “Yeah, dipshit, it’s me,” she says, crossing her arms. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know how upset Steve is? He doesn’t know if he’s still your boyfriend, and I’m honestly considering telling him to end it now. What the hell could’ve happened to make you avoid him like you’ve been doing? You and I may be friends, but Steve and I are platonic-with-a-capital-p soulmates, and he’ll always come first.”

Eddie gapes at her. “I- he-” he groans and buries his head in his hands. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Majorly,” Robin agrees. “I’ve half a mind to not let you see him, actually, except I know how sneaky you are, and I know you’d find a way regardless. If you thought it was important enough.”

“If-” Eddie gapes again. “He’s the most important thing. I was upset, and I took some things to heart that I really shouldn’t have, and oh, holy shit, I need to talk to him-”

Robin nods approvingly. “Go fix it, Munson.” She leans casually against his doorframe, then says as if completely changing the topic, “y’know, Nancy’s been teaching me to shoot. It’s fun.”

Eddie pales appropriately. “Robin Buckley, you are the scariest woman on the planet, second only to Nancy, and no one deserves you,” he says seriously, laughing when she nods.

Robin wanders back out to the kitchen, where Wayne hands her a mug with a grin. “Heard you gave ‘im hell.”

“Yup,” Robin answers. “He’s gonna go fix it. If he doesn’t, I hope you’ll be okay living on your own.”

Wayne shrugs, an amused twist to his mouth. “I survived thirty-eight years on my own. I think I can do it again.”

“Good,” Robin says, and that’s that, and they both turn to watch as Eddie races out the door.

“Shit shit shit,” Eddie mutters as he throws himself into the driver’s seat. He turns the car on and curses again as fucking Ozzy Osbourne blasts through the speakers. He ejects the tape and tossed it behind him, prepared to sit in silence on the way to Steve’s.

Eleven and a half minutes later, Eddie pulls up to Steve’s house and knocks on the door, shifting impatiently.

Steve opens the door twenty-seven seconds later, and twelve minutes after leaving his house, Eddie says, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s the first thing out of his mouth, flying out practically without permission. There was a plan, a script, but he sees Steve’s hazel eyes and forgets everything he’d ever known.

Steve regards him, then nods and moves aside, inviting him in with a wave of his hand.

“I got really insecure about something and exploded instead of just talking it through,” Eddie continues. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. I just-” he tears a hand through his hair, makes a frustrated sound.

Steve gently touches his arm, gets his hand out of his hair, directs him to sit on a couch. “I know,” he says quietly, then sighs. “And I owe you an apology. It takes two to argue. I shouldn’t have gotten riled up when you did. It didn’t help anything.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Eddie whispers, desperate to make him understand. “Stevie. This is completely on me.”

“How about we start over?” Steve suggests. “You asked if we were too different. Where’d you get that idea?”

“The band,” Eddie admits. “I was thinking out loud, wondering why everyone had started a betting pool on our first argument, and Jeff said that he thinks it’s because we’re really different. And then I kept thinking about it and got insecure about it. And then you said what you did, about not liking Ozzy, and that really got me insecure because that was the first real compliment I gave you.” Steve blinks, confused. “In the Upside Down? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?”

“Oh, shit,” Steve whispers, understanding trickling in.

“So I thought- I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought it was all fake, that since you didn’t like or accept the compliment, or whatever…” he shakes his head. “It really is stupid. And I’m so sorry I let it go so far.”

Steve sighs. “And I’m sorry. I’d completely forgotten about that complement. I do know how much that means to you, though. And I might not like the guy’s music, but I’ve got no opinions on the man himself. I guess I should’ve specified. And like I said earlier, I never should’ve risen to the bait. I never should’ve said what I did about sports and exercise. So I’m sorry, too.” He holds a tentative hand up, and Eddie pushes it out of the way in favor of wrapping his arms around Steve, who huffs a laugh and returns the gesture. “Love you, Eds,” he murmurs.

“Love you, Stevie. ‘M sorry.”

“‘S alright. I’m sorry too.”

“‘S alright.” They both giggle and pull back a bit, just to lean in again and press their lips together.

“Next time we talk about it,” Steve mutters after they pull apart.

“Agreed,” Eddie says, then pauses. “So who do you think won the bet about our first argument?”

Permanent Taglist:

@justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

#stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #robin buckley #Wayne and Robin #that’s not a tag yet which is a TRAVESTY #misunderstanding #miscommunication #fights #arguments #idek how to tag this #read op’s first #op I’m so sorry I forgot the blue icee #I hope you like it anyways #starambles

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peptothesi · 2 years

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Who is this fine babe

The reader meeting the jojo bro’s and flirting since you guys loved the villain one, (this is purely platonic)

Jonathan

🐶 You we’re visiting Jonathan after his battle with dio, you had brought flowers and chocolates for him as a ‘get well soon’ gift.

🐶 You raised your arm to knock on his door and it opened to reveal a man with blonde hair and a scarred face.

“Who might you be? What business do you have here?”

“I- um I have- uh I have some gifts-“

“OH! Y/N! Speedwagon it’s alright they’re my friend they mean no harm!”

🐶 The man now know as speedwagon immediately apologises while you eye him up like he’s a straight from a dream.

🐶 You we’re snapped out of your trance when Jonathan began softly hissing at you making you aware that it was your turn to respond.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

“You’re cute”

“Wha?”

🐶 It was the perfect thing to break the tension making Jonathan and Erina chuckle whilst Speedwagon flushed a pink across his features.

“Oh my um, thank you that’s very kind”

🐶 Jonathan won’t let you live it down and not in the way that he keeps teasing you but reminding you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about it.

“Y/N it’s alright Speedwagon didn’t mind it, I’m sure it won’t affect your relationship with him”

“Jonathan please let it go-“

🐶 He’s so supportive and he thinks that you and Speedwagon should be together but then again you cannot tell if he’s serious or not.

Joseph

✈️ “Mamma mia, Joseph who’s this angel I see before me!!”

✈️ You came to Italy to see Joseph and see how he was handling his training, he was overall very excited to have you around.

✈️ Mainly because you are his best friend and he loves the attention you provide him but his heart sunk to his kneecaps when you met Caesar and inflated his ego instead.

✈️ Caesar was caught of guard he didn’t expect that but he also found it quite amusing.

“Well at least one of you have good taste, I’m shocked to see why we weren’t introduced earlier. Grazie, amore mio”

✈️ Hates it. hates it. hates it!

✈️ He groans everytime you speak to each other and gags when you both flirt with each other.

✈️ He sees the winks and the looks you two give each other and he rages.

✈️ For example if you both sit together he will sit in between you both.

✈️ He caught you both out together for lunch and you both almost had a lady and the tramp spaghetti moment thank god he had a pair of scissors on him and cut the pasta.

✈️ Doesn’t support it he rather you flirt with Kara or Lisa Lisa just ANYBODY ELSE!!

“Y/N why him of all people you can do so much better!! I know your standards are low but my god man!!”

“Joseph why-“

“Amore, don’t waste your breath he’s a lot cause and he of all people shouldn’t talk about standards-“

“GO TO HELL!!”

✈️ Maybe he wants what’s best for you and he doesn’t see Caesar as what’s best for you or maybe he just despises Caesar enough that the thought of him dating a lively person like yourself makes him ill or maybe it’s the image of his best friends dating and leaving him behind makes him depressed we will never know.

✈️ Its OBVIOUSLY the second option though.

✈️ He’s so glad when you need to leave Italy he doesn’t have to go through that torture anymore.

Jotaro

“Y’know you’re quite attractive now that I think about it Kakyoin”

“Huh? Oh-oh thank you Y/N, I find you attractive as well”

🐬 Kakyoin might be blushing and stuttering but Jotaro doesn’t really care I mean go for it I guess but as long as you both aren’t flirting for the next 50 days.

🐬 But the relationship he builds with kakyoin and how close he now is with you both, he finds it weird and he only realised how weird it was when he was walking home with you one day and it popped into his mind.

“Yare Yare daze”

“What’s wrong?”

“You know what you did”

Josuke

“I mean I guess I can see where Yukako is coming from but in my eyes Okyusa is more attractive”

“HE’S WHAT?!”

“REALLY?!!”

💛 A shock to the system really, he didn’t see that coming and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

💛 He makes peace with it at first but it slowly gets to him over time.

💛 Okuyasu uses it in arguments with Josuke it’s his most prized bragging argument that he uses all the time.

“Okay but I’ve got better hair!”

“Y/N thinks I’m the most attractive guy in town they said it themselves!!”

“God dammit”

💛 It’s jealousy but he’s not going to admit that for the sake of his pride.

💛 He’s nothing if he’s not a lover of attention, so when the the thought of someone else being greater than him in your eyes comes to mind it pains his heart.

💛 He pouts when you and Okuyasu jokingly flirt with each other.

💛 He pretends he doesn’t care about it cause why would he? It’s just a compliment (he really cares)

“Okuyasu sometimes you’re just too cute for me to handle!”

“Daw! Y/N stop it!”

“What about me though?”

“Hmm did you say something Josuke?”

“Nope you must be hearing things you need me to use Crazy Diamond?”

Giorno

“Bruno has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

🐸 Everyone got real quite real quick, the talking stopped and just turned to you like you just did something stupid.

🐸 Bruno just chuckled and thanked you a smile gracing his features making you sigh dreamily.

🐸 Narancia and Mista poked at Giorno wondering what he thought about it all.

🐸 You two are close after all, isn’t he going to react to this?

🐸 He doesn’t really see it as a big deal though, true it is strange considering Bruno is your boss and that’s not really appropriate to say to your boss but oh well.

🐸 You are close so he’ll ask you about it and if it’s just plain simple you spoke your thoughts and meant what you said then there’s not much he can really do.

🐸 He might be a little jealous but nobody will know that.

“Did you mean it when you called Bruno beautiful??”

“Yes, I think he’s very attractive why do you ask?”

“No reason”

#female y/n #gn y/n #male y/n #jjba x reader #giorno x reader #jjba x y/n #jonathan joestar x reader #joseph joestar x reader #josuke higashikata x reader #jotaro x reader

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 6 months

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Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 23 - Drunk Sex Vampire!Frankie x Reader

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog that writes porn with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: Drunk Reader (dubcon but established relationship), Twilight references (to piss off Frankie) Vampire sex, Vampire bites, Unprotected PiV (sort of), vampire vibes, oral F receiving, biting, vampire bites. Let me kow if I missed anything!

Part 1 here: [Can be read as a standalone but there is some context you might miss if you don't read part 1] Read on Ao3 Support me on Ko-fi or Patreon! Thank you @pastelnap for being my ride or die <3

You stumble through the door to Frankie’s apartment, shushing yourself in the way drunk people do, making decidedly more noise than if you’d just kept your mouth shut.

“Mi sol?” Frankie’s voice startles you and you yelp, falling over yourself as you try and get your shoes off. You’re hunched over, determined to stay on your feet, for some inexplicable reason.

“Go back to sleep!”

You hiss into the dark apartment, giggling to yourself as you finally get your left shoe off, before starting on the right. Frankie turns on the living room lamp and you groan in protest at the sudden burst of light.

“You know I don’t sleep, hermosa, do you need help?”

You hesitate before looking up to see Frankie smirking down at you, dressed only in olive-green sweatpants and �� of course – his Standard Oil baseball cap. You roll your eyes at the ensemble, but you can’t deny, no matter what Frankie wears, he’s gorgeous.

“Please.” You whine as you give up, plopping down on the floor unceremoniously as you watch your boyfriend saunter over to you with an amused grin on his face.

“You look like you had a good time.”

Frankie’s thick fingers ghost against your skin as he undoes the tiny little buckle on your strappy heels that bested you in your inebriated state. You hum as the mere brush of his calloused palm on your ankle sends heat driving to your core.

“The best, Damien scored, and Lisa and I caught up, her baby’s almost a year old, can you believe that?”

“That so?” Frankie encourages you softly as he pulls you up to your feet, steering you to the other side of the studio apartment, settling you on the kitchen counter as he gets you a glass of water, some juice, and a snack.

“Yup, still looks like a potato though,” You hiccup, and Frankie lets out a soft snort at you, “Not sure why people think babies look cute, they’re all…” You make a wiggling gesture with your fingertips and scrunch your nose at him as he brings over the snacks and drinks, “Wrinkly.”

“Dios mío,” Frankie chuckles as he pops open the Ziplock back of high protein snacks and pops something salty into your mouth, “Children are a blessing mi sol.”

Something in your drunken brain takes the statement too much to heart. You feel tears welling in your eyes as your heart clenches painfully at the thought of not wanting kids.

“I’m sorry Frankie.” You sob as you swallow painfully around the lump in your throat as you wash the bitterness down with a swig of water. Frankie is between your legs in a flash, you’re still not used to how fast he can move, and you wince slightly. His hands rub gently over your bare arms, coarse skin catching delightfully against your own softness.

“What are you sorry for mi sol? For being drunk? That’s not something to apologise for, you were having fun-,”

“For not wanting your babies.”

Frankie’s hands still on your biceps and you look up to see sadness pulling at his brow, his eyes glistening with shame as his lips part gently. It’s funny when Frankie does something so ingrained in muscle memory like sigh because very little actual air comes out, yet the hard-wired expression of exasperation remains.

“We’ve talked about this, even if I- if we, wanted children it’s not possible. I don’t have the tools for the job, haven’t had them for over a century. I have made my peace with that, and I am glad you don’t want them, it makes it easier for me to reconcile it.”

“You sure?” You sob, well aware that snot is dribbling over your lip.

“I am very sure, I was simply trying to say, maybe, just maybe, don’t call your best friend’s baby a wrinkly potato.”

“I would never to her face!” You gasp dramatically at the notion, and you smile as you see Frankie’s eyes sparkle with amusement. You narrow your eyes at him as you wipe the tears and mucus from your lip.

“There we are, I much prefer when you glare at me like that, rather than crying over something as silly as thinking you would lose me over something neither of us can control.”

“When you put it that way I feel like an ass.”

You pout and cross your arms over your chest, immediately feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment wash over you.

“But you are my ass.” He grumbles into your hair as he wraps his arms around you, pressing you against his chest and you inhale his floral body wash as you press soft kisses to his bare skin.

“About three things I am absolutely positive,” You start, a shit-eating grin forming on your lips, “First, Francisco is a vampire.”

“Mi sol, what are you doing?” Frankie grumbles as you snicker against his chest, mouthing lightly at his left nipple.

“Second, there is a part of me – and I don’t know how potent-,”

“Mi amor please, stop. Not the twilight quoting again.”

“That part might be – that thirsts for my blood.”

“Seriously, you’re being so lame right now.”

“And third, I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.”

There’s silence as you wait for him to scold you, to threaten to make you shut up with some lewd act involving his dick or his mouth. But it doesn’t come. You lean back and look up to see shock on Frankie’s face.

“You love me?”

The realisation hits you and you feel the colour drain from your cheeks.

“Uh, well, it was the quote and, well, yes I guess- I guess I do.” You fumble as you give him an awkward grin, teeth bared as you wince a little at your drunken admission.

“I love you too, so much.”

“I love you too.” You breathe as you lean up to press your lips against his, it’s a gentle, tender brush of lips as you snake your hands around his neck. You twist your fingers into the soft curls that brush his skin there.

“I know. You just told me so, by way of a twilight quote.” Frankie chuckles softly as you part, looking down at you with hungry, but kind, eyes.

“Asshole.” You grumble but you’ve already noticed the hard press of his cock against your thigh, you smirk and tug on his hair a little firmer than you would normally. He groans and crashes his lips into yours.

His fangs slide out and he makes sure to nick your bottom lip before gliding his tongue over the shallow cuts.

“You sure you’re sober enough for this hermosa?”

“I am, I promise,” And it’s true, you want this, bad, “Plus, I’m sure you can siphon off a little of the alcohol in my system to help a girl out.”

You roll your head to the side, exposing your neck where Frankie can just about see the evidence of his bite from last week. The marks too acute for the human eye to see, but he sees them like shining stars on a cloudless night.

“Fuck you’re a bad girl.” He groans as he drops his head to your shoulder mouthing gently at your pulse point as he glides the blunt curves of his fangs over your skin. You whine at the way he licks a long, slow stripe up to the shell of your ear, his strong nose buried into your hair as he takes a deep breath in.

“I’m your bad girl.”

“I’m not fucking you on the counter after confessing my love to you, come on.”

Frankie hoists you up, wrapping your ankles around his waist as he strides towards your bedroom. The same bedroom that he fucked you – and fed from you – in six months ago.

Frankie crawls into the middle of the bed, somehow managing to manoeuvre your combined bodies so that you’re straddling him. The sound of fabric tearing has you pulling back from Frankie’s lips. You furrow your brow as you look down at your ruined dress. He’s torn it completely from your body, leaving you in just your lacy panties and bra.

“Oops.” He chuckles before reaching for your panties. You catch his wrists just as he starts to tug at the lace.

“Francisco no! I love this set.”

“Fine.” He draws out the word in mock exasperation as he tips you backwards, your head resting just short of the end of the bed. You giggle as he brushes his lips up each thigh, starting at the inside of your knees. His facial hair scrapes blissfully against your tender skin as he makes his way up to your clothed cunt.

He takes his time, lingering here and there, laving his tongue over the trail of previously marked skin; some as large as freckles, others pinpricks. Evidence of the thousands of times you have let him feed on you, most of the time when he had you spread out for him like this.

But sometimes, when he’d had a bad day, or you were feeling extra generous, you’d let him feed. Drink from you for something deeper than sex. It was an act of service on your part, and you know you’ll never grow tired of having Frankie drink from you.

“Always so good to me, mi amor, look at the constellations adorning your skin. Star maps of our devotion.” Frankie murmurs against your skin

“Christ, Lord Byron, I told you I loved you, not that I pine for the fjords on a winters day waiting for your love.” You tease as you secretly enjoy it when Francisco waxes lyrical with you, you know it comes from a long dead, former version of himself that breaks through when most incensed.

“Points for trying, but I know part of that is a Monty Python bit.”

You feel the harsh scratch and burn of Frankies fangs on your inner thigh as he scolds you. The rush of warmth and arousal is instantaneous as his saliva soothes and warms your very veins. Frankie taps your left ass cheek softly to indicate you to lift your hips so he can remove your panties. You do as you’re commanded and take the chance to unclasp your bra and fling it across the room.

“Checking one last time, mi amor, you sure you want this?” Frankie hovers over your exposed core as he waits for you to answer you look down to see the picture of demonic divinity.

Frankie’s hair curls in perfect waves around his face. His eyes are tinged with crimson flecks which scatter through those dark brown depths. His mouth is smeared with your blood, fangs jutting out, tipped with smudges of red. You reach down with one hand, cupping his jaw, scratching your nails through his patchy facial hair.

“I’m sure, I love you Frankie, please, take what’s yours.”

Frankie hums contentedly as he licks a thick, broad stripe through your slick folds. He latches his lips on your clit as he sucks gently, two fingers already prodding at your entrance as your back arches up. You pant and whimper as his fangs catch on your delicate skin as he gets sloppy, devouring you like a man possessed as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you, alternating between scissoring and curling up into your g-spot.

“Come for me.”

Frankie’s voice is low as he uses the tip of his tongue to trace erratic circles over your clit. You come blindingly hard around his fingers, walls clamping down as you cry out in a broken snarl. Your vision blurs and you clamp your eyes shut, pleasure erupts from your core, bleeding through your body like a spill of hot wax, cloying, lingering, lasting.

“Good girl, so good to me.”

“Please Francisco, make love to me, bite me.” Your voice is a pathetic whimper, but you like how you sound, wrecked for him already, but of so eager for more.

“As you wish mi sol.”

Frankie lifts you back up into a kneeling position as he pulls you onto his lap, lining you up over him as he slowly pushes you down onto his cock. You gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as his girth stretches you out. You writhe and moan as Frankie takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Want to go nice and slow, want you to really feel me.”

“Fuck,” You grunt as he seats himself deep inside you, filling you up as you wrap your legs around his waist loosely, “Love this position Frankie.”

“Same, so deep, so intimate.”

His lips leave your nipple, and he pulls your head down, crashing his lips into yours as he picks up the pace a little beneath you. His hips roll up into you as his free hand drops to your clit, his broad thumb pressing hard, slow circles against your swollen bundle of nerves.

“May I bite you?”

“Yes, always yes, but thank you for asking.”

You let your head loll forward onto Frankie’s shoulder as you pepper soft kisses to his skin, sucking and nipping at his flesh when thrusts hit particularly deep, or he pressures your clit just right.

Frankie mouths your skin gently, licking hot stripes over your skin as he savours you before he seemingly finds the sweet spot. Pleasure rich pain bursts in your neck, flooding your system with euphoria.

“Oh fuck yes, Frankie fuck me harder please.”

Your nails dig into the tan expanse of his back as you cling to him, his thick length fucks into you deeper, faster. You feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein as your pussy clamps down on him tightly. His mouth leaves your neck, and you pull back enough to capture his bloody lips in your own. His saliva and your blood transfusing into a sickly cocktail of iron and sweetness as your body fully succumbs to the aphrodisiac singing through your system.

“I love you, so much, be mine, forever?” Frankie pants as he picks up the pace on your clit, his hands on your hips, slamming you down to meet his frantic thrusts as he feels you tighten around him. The room is full of your breathy moans, and you nod in earnest.

“Yes, you have me Frankie, forever.”

He grunts low as he fucks up into you a few more times. The sound, the pressure on your clit, and the way Frankie’s cock simply wrecks you has you coming hard around him. He whines softly as you push yourself down on him, not letting your bodies part for even a second as he spills inside you, thick ropes of come filling you to the brim as you press your forehead against his. Cool – but not cold – skin meets your clammy forehead, and you smile absently at the juxtaposition.

You kneel there in silence for some time, hands roaming over well-worn tracks that you could trace in the dark. Frankie’s hands mirror your own, mapping you out as if for the first time, but you know it’s habit by now.

“Come on, you need something more to eat,” Frankie gently eases you off him, pushing you onto your back against the pillows, “Don’t move.” He orders as he lifts your hips up, sliding a thick pillow under your ass so that none of his spend leaks out.

“God that’s so fucking hot.” You grumble to yourself and yelp when Frankie calls from across the apartment in response.

“For someone that doesn’t want kids you sure sound like you have a breeding kink.”

“Fuck you, Francisco!”

You yell out into the studio, but your lips are spread in a broad smile as you know he’s right.

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princelylove · 5 months

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Thank you a lot for the ranking yandere of the Jofoe, I agree with you on that although I quite suprised that Kars end up being the most dangerous (I thought Dio would be more much dangerous, the way he charm everyone he meet and manipulate them to serve him)

Btw are you still write nsfw request? I hope you don't mind I request it, I would love to know how the first time of Jotaro, Noriaki, Dio with their darling (you can write about your fav character too :>). Like how they prepare for it, how they feel to be their darling's first time, aftercare ?

~ 🏵️ anon ~

What DIO views as “They’ll come around, they always do,” Kars views as “You are my possession from the beginning and you must submit.” Kars is the ultimate lifeform- without his invention of the mask, there is no DIO. When I think of DIO, no matter his age, I always think of the little boy who wanted nothing but love. When I think of Kars, I think of how he left Santana behind. Kars has no issue treating you as something like a prized possession, but to DIO, you’re his everything. Kars doesn’t want worship or something as silly as love, he wants to be amused.

You happened to choose three characters that I tend to view as dominant/enjoy topping, so I threw in some submissive ones, for variety.

Jotaro has no idea what he’s doing. He has no idea what lube is, no idea what aftercare is, no idea what foreplay is- he got all of his sex education from a half assed (Sorry, Holly.) ‘talk’ from his mother, watered down into childish language. He knows he’s supposed to put himself inside you, or something, but he’s… not really sure how it’s going to do that. Jotaro avoids sex for as long as possible- he’s not about to embarrass himself in front of the only person he wants an opinion from. Eventually, when he thinks the time is right (After he watches enough porn to “study”), he’ll work up the nerve to tell you that he expects sex from you. He has a bit of a fetish for you being a virgin. He views it as “pure,” and it plays into his delusion that his darling is the most innocent thing ever and will decay if he stops watching them for a single second. You’re precious, and he’s defiling you… The very thought is enough to rile him up. He treats his darling delicately afterwards, but that's sort of a given considering how fragile he treats you normally.

Noriaki has eased his darling into being ‘comfortable’ with at least foreplay, why not just go all the way? He normally gets his sadistic fantasies out of his system with little sessions- Hierophant Green ties you up and hangs you from the ceiling, and Noriaki tries absolutely everything he’s ever wanted to do, besides from penetration. He hasn’t really thought about it, but one day while toying with you, it occurs to him that he could’ve been doing that this entire time. You’re already bound so nicely for him, it’s such a waste to not at least try it. He supposes he would say he’s only curious- he’s fooled around with people before (If you count flirting and getting disgusted because they don’t meet his standards), but real, ‘proper’ sex has never been something he was very interested in. There’s a first time for everything. Noriaki doesn’t mind your lack of experience, he finds it cute. If you do have experience… it’s generally the smart move to not tell a possessive type that you let someone else see you in that way.

DIO is surprisingly patient with his darling. Sex isn’t everything in a relationship, and he doesn’t want you to just see him as a sexual partner- having it too early can lead to expectations that, although he’d happily fulfil in the right mood, leave a bad taste in DIO’s mouth. He isn’t just a body or cold hands to keep you happy at night. He waits for you to make the suggestion, and focuses on your pleasure, for the time being. DIO’s fairly happy to service you- he thinks that if he pleases you enough, you’ll start to care about pleasing him. It’s only fair, isn’t it? He normally takes a dominant role in sex, touching him is only to boost his ego or to hold on for dear life. He thinks it’s the natural order of things, and will outright refuse you if you suggest that you want to only focus on getting him off. Don’t be silly, pet. Let him take care of you. His pleasure is brought on by your pleasure, he tells you. But, should you take the lead in kissing, or get as handsy with him as he’s been craving… well. DIO loves special treatment, just don’t make him beg for it, since he is actually opposed to pleading for his own darling’s touch, and he’ll roll onto his back nicely for you. As long as you’re not seeking sexual attention from someone else, DIO is willing to put aside how he feels about you having another in your past. First or not, he’s your eternity. You’re very well taken care of. Any aches or bruises are kissed better, and possibly massaged. If your hips ache too much, he’ll have a devotee carry you where you need to be, should his hands be busy elsewhere.

Holly considers sex to be part of her marital duties. She’s supposed to let you have her, right? You can do whatever you want, she won’t complain, as long as you keep telling her you love her. Holly wants your first time to be after you’re officially married- which, to Holly, you already are. What’s in the past doesn't matter, she’ll guide you through how to touch her if you need it, and is a little bit too eager to make you forget about anyone that isn’t your wife. Asking for “aftercare” is not at all necessary, did you think she’d leave you all alone after working so hard? Take out your stress on her, get a little rough or go as slowly as you want, as long as you’re happy, Holly will take it. If you’re not in the mood, that’s fine… but she’ll think she did something wrong, and go sulk in another room for a few hours. It’s better to just get a little cardio done for the day and tire her out, maybe you’ll have some privacy if she falls asleep right after.

Trish will beg you to fuck her. She does absolutely everything she can think of to get you to make a move on her. She’ll put her legs up on your lap when you’re sitting next to her- looook, she just shaved, feel. She said feel. She’ll only wear miniskirts and keep bending forward in front of you because she's “looking for something.” If none of her hints work, she’ll get on top of you, and tell you to do it. She may have matured a lot, but she’s still bossy. Just not during sex. It’s embarrassing- she seriously has to tell you? You should just automatically know when she wants it and how she wants it and to call her pretty and gorgeous and give her soooo many compliments and kiss her everywhere and you get my point. Trish will do absolutely no work, she fully expects her darling to do absolutely everything, and often forgets that you need love after too.

#giggling because it's all part three #BOOM trish #not sfw #cw noncon #cw dubcon #yandere dio #yandere dio x reader #yandere jotaro kujo #yandere jotaro kujo x reader #yandere holly kujo #yandere holly kujo x reader #yandere trish una #yandere trish una x reader #yandere noriaki kakyoin #yandere noriaki kakyoin x reader #🏵️ anon #request granted

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gojoandtojisleftnut · 1 year

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Bilingual | JJK men

Pairings: Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Geto x fem!reader

Jjk men with a bilingual girlfriend

Note: I picked Greek and Spanish for this one. I’m sorry if your language isn’t included, they’re the first that came in mind. Don’t come for me please. I hope the translations are correct.

__________________________________________

GOJO

Satoru loves the fact that you’re half Greek. He loves listening to you talk on the phone in your native language, he loves the food your yiayia cooks for him, he loves your loud family and the embarrassing stories they tell him about your childhood. He loves your vacations in Greece and your culture, but most of all he loves, no adores when your speak to him in Greek, cause you usually do it when you’re mad at him. You asked him to do the dishes while you were at work, but fucking around with Geto took his mind completely off the dirty plates in the sink. And now here you are standing in the kitchen scolding him

“Έλεος Σατορου, ένα πράγμα σου ζήτησα να κανεις! Θεέ μου!” (Have mercy Satoru, I asked you to do one thing! My god!) You continued your rambling when a smirking Gojo came and smoothly wrapped his hands around your waist and whispered in your ear. “I love when you speak to me in Greek angel. Turns me on.” Satoru always knows how to make you blush and this boy has no shame at all but that doesn’t stop the fact that you’re still visibly angry at him. “Satoru you’re not making your way out of this by seducing me. I gave you one simple task” “I’m an idiot and I forgot. I’ll do them now, don’t be mad at me baby please, σαγαπω?” (Sayapo, I love you) he said with a cheeky smile, tilting his head to the side, not really sure if he said the word right. You look up at his ocean eyes and let a laugh escape your mouth. I mean you can’t stay mad at your love “και εγώ σαγαπω, κι ας είσαι ηλίθιος” (I love you too, even if your an idiot.) you tell him and walk away from him towards the living room. “hey what’s that that supposed to mean?!” he shouts at you watching you walk away “wash the dishes Satoru!”.

NANAMI

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again this man is husband material. Since your relationship got serious he decided to start taking Spanish lessons to learn the language and your culture. He thought it’d be a good idea and a good opportunity to bond even more.

“No baby this is wrong. It’s : A María le encantan las manzanas. (Maria loves apples)” but your boyfriend couldn’t help but get distracted by your accent and full lips. How determined you were to help him. “Ken are you listening to me?” your big eyes look up to find his “Yes sweetheart I’m listening.” “Okay let’s continue.” 10 minutes go by and he can’t take it anymore, his head is about to explode. So he stops you, taking the pencil out of your hands and putting a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “How do you say in Spanish that I love you very much. That you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and one day I’ll marry you?” his words make your face turn into a deep red. “Te quiero mucho. Eres la chica más guapa del mundo y algún día me casaré contigo.” As you say the words he requested he starts leaning in and eventually stops when you finish the sentence. He give you a small hum and places his lips on yours. Slowly kissing you until your back is on the floor and he’s hovering over you positioned between your legs.

GETO

Geto is very similar to Gojo, i mean they’re best friends what do you expect. So like gojo Suguru knows he’s in trouble when the Spanish kick in.

He’s sitting on the kitchen stool eating his cereal while you’re leaned against the sink talking on the phone. “¡Dios! Son imposibles.”(God! They’re impossible). This makes Suguru slowly look up from his breakfast. “Dios mío...”(oh my god) you whisper shaking your head in disappointment. “Don’t worry I’ll talk to him, and I’ll find out- Yeah okay, talk to you later- yeah bye.” You hand up the phone and cross your arms looking at your boyfriend who’s know looking back down at his bowl pretending he’s innocent. “Suguru..” no answer “I was taking with Gojo’s girlfriend on the phone. She said you guys were fucking around making fun at the Kyoto faculty when Gojo should’ve been home helping out. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” “Babe, you know how we are. I’m sorry. I’ll call [name] and tell her I’m sorry even though Satoru probably already apologized” he looks at you with worry in his eyes and an uncertain soft smile. He opens his arms, bashfully, signaling for you to come and hug him. You click your tongue and walk towards him. He hugs you and you look down at him. You grab his chin and lift it so he’s looking at you. “Dame un beso” (give me a kiss) “that means you want a kiss right?” “Mhm” you nod you head and you two share a quick smooch. “Don’t be an idiot next time. O te golpearé” (or I’ll smack you) you whisper the last part smiling and you walk away. Leaving him in the kitchen with soggy cereal confused.

TOJI

My man. Lmao. Toji really loves anything about you, you made him a better man. The only thing that gets him in trouble is your dad during family gatherings. There’s an age gap between the two and it doesn’t really sit right with your old man. But leave it to your yiayia to save her favorite ‘grandson’.

“So when are you two getting married?” Your dad asks making Toji choke on his spanakopita your mom made. “Μπαμπά!” (Dad!) you scold him. Toji clears his throat before he speaks “It will happen one day sir. I plan on marrying her.” Your dad keeps talking to him about marriage and throwing in a few shady comments about how you should’ve dated that Greek boy he had found for you. You squeeze your mans thigh and mutter a soft apology. Until your yiayia comes and scolds you father for his behavior, saving Toji and giving him a kiss to his head. “Άσε τα παιδιά. Και εγώ τι κατάλαβα που παντρεύτηκα μικρή;” (leave the kids alone. What did I get from marrying very young?). Lunch went by fast and you’re now at him in bed cuddled up, chatting and making out sporadically. “Your grandma really is something else huh?” He laughs “yeaaahh, she really loves you. She even gave me leftovers for you.” You smile at the idea of your yiayia loving him so much when you feel his lips on your neck. “Σε λατρεύω.” (I adore you). Shocked, you push him away and look at his smirking face “hey! Where did you learn that from?!”

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

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The Denim Vest

Summary: In his room on a lazy Friday evening, you spark the idea on how to complete Eddie’s treasured denim vest.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: language, very suggestive situation; fluff; romance; established relationship; let’s recover from those episodes besties.

Quick Links: masterlist

“Do you know what it needs?” You turned around, looking over your shoulder in the mirror and analyzing the blank back. Eddie was too distracted to notice that it truly did need something on the other side. Your glowing skin in his room’s lighting being a beacon for his attention.

“I think you should paint it or something.”

“Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?” Your head whipped in his direction, watching as his eyes quickly flicked from center to your own and his cheeks went a little red.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Um,” he thought about lying, “no.”

“I said,” instead of turning back to the mirror, you walked over to the edge of the mattress and he took no time tossing the thin striped comforter to the side. Eddie grabbed your hands and guided you to sit down, right in his lap, and he unabashedly stared as your breasts bounced freely underneath the textured denim as you sat on top of him.

“You should paint the back or something… maybe sew a shirt.”

Did you know what you were doing to him? That the look you assumed wearing his clothing—decked out in his patches and pins of his favorite bands—was straight out of his goddamn imagination. It was a fantasy unfolding before him.

“Metallica, Anthrax, Sabbath—“ you named bands as though you listened to them as frequently as he did. Eddie let go of your hands and slid them onto your waist, slowly wrapping around you like two vines connecting.

“Maybe that Dio shirt Wayne got you.”

“I don’t really wanna talk about Wayne right now, baby.”

You smiled at him, putting your arms around his shoulders and grabbing the back of his neck with both your hands—the nails of your fingertips gliding onto his skin in soft strokes.

“I don’t think you wanna talk at all.”

“No,” he drew his face close to yours. Eddie’s nose bumping yours as if asking permission to continue—even if he had already ruined you for the one thousandth time that evening. “I don’t.”

His kissed you lightly. A feathering of his lips onto yours as his hands gripped instead. You weren’t expecting it. The sudden softness compared to his amorous eyes. He took his time. Drawing out each line of your lips like a painting, memorizing its shape and each plump corner.

It was a dance. A memorized, sensual dance that Eddie loved to take part in. He loved the way you wore his clothes, the way you gave him advice on how to make it more… him.

Your fingers played in his hair—each stroke on his head sending a rapid chill down the back of his spine. It was exhilarating. The feeling of being desired by someone who he was not only enchanted with, but someone who cared for him. Eddie had been left so many times before—by family, friends, and those he thought his walls would come down for; he knew in the way you held him, in the way you let him touch you, that you weren’t leaving.

It didn’t take long for him to feel a smile begin to grow on your lips. Whenever he kissed you like this, sweet and tender with emotion he was willing to share, you always ended up smiling. Giddy, like a kid in a candy shop. Eddie made you feel special. Not ‘only girl in the world’ special because that wasn’t unique enough. Every girl believed that their boyfriends thought that; each one a mirror of another relationship they had seen.

Eddie treated you as an equal; a lover who was giving and willing to receive what you gave back. He was kind; never judgmental or coarse in his words. He loved what you loved even if it was so far beyond his interests that it seemed unimaginable. His touch made you sing, his eyes warped the life you had known and created a new one—entirely, and fundamentally, one that you had always wanted.

So, when Eddie felt that smile coming on and knew it would break the kiss, he rubbed his thumbs along your bare sides. He stared at you smiling; his own grin matching yours.

He drew one of his hands up to your face, cupping your cheek delicately. Eddie’s eyes clear and enamored, his thumb gently traced over the your lips.

“I swear you’ll be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You wouldn’t be.

But you would be the very last thought on his mind.

“Well,” you brushed a piece of his bangs away from his right eye. He really needed to trim those. “Better finish the vest first, right?”

Eddie laughed. And his laugh could rectify any sadness. It was full of life and happiness in a world that granted him little of it.

“Yeah…” he let his words die out on his lips.

“I think you should go with the Dio shirt. It’s all ripped up under the arm,” you ran both your hands along his shoulders, down his bare arms, “and, really, how much longer are you going to want to wear a shirt like that? Where people can see your skin?”

“Forever if it means you’ve noticed there’s holes and you can see my skin,” he joked and you slapped his chest lightly.

“Oh!” He said as though he had just been given a divine intervention, “and the guy from the radio shack told me it was a neat shirt a few weeks ago. You know, the one next to the record store.”

“Yes, I know where that is.”

“And maybe the other girls,” he lifted an eyebrow, waiting for your laughable, adorable jealousy seep through, “at school like when they get a glimpse of my arm pit. The hair is pretty impressive.”

“Well unlike all the other girls at school, they don’t get to see you like this so,” you wrapped your arms once more around him, “if you want to continue showing off your hole-y shirt, then go ahead but I still think it’s the best option. The art is kind of sick.”

“Kind of?” He scoffed, taking one second and rolling you over from his lap and onto your back. He pinned you onto the bed and reached around the side of it to where the shirt was. He sat up on his knees and held the shirt in front of him.

“This is the sickest fuckin’ shirt there is and—“ he pointed a finger at you to where you responded with an expectant look, “it’s a metal design!”

“Then it should work perfectly!”

“It will work perfectly. Do you know why?”

He tossed the shirt back onto the ground, leaning forward on his knees and grabbing your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. With no resistance, he guided them above your head and brought his face above yours. Eddie had you. Eddie had you in the palm of his hand but you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Why?” You asked quietly. Your gaze setting on his lips.

“Because I’ll always know that you thought it’d look totally sick there and whenever I look at it, I’ll be reminded of you.”

You knew you loved him before this moment, yet as his smile lit up his face and the words had been so earnest, you felt like you were realizing it all over again.

Love, a many splendid thing when Eddie Munson showed up to Hawkins High the following Monday with his Dio shirt cut and crafted on the back of his new denim vest.

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #Joseph Quinn #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #we are all coping by making fix it fics or fluffy pieces

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rabarbarzcukrem · 4 months

Text

Black Rose Musical save me

So they're starting with Mikage's backstory? Interesting

Actually, I wonder how they'll go about showing that Mamiya was Anthy all along

Mamiya doing that quick spin with Anthy, and then Utena with Tokiko...

I love the "Burn" song, it does a good job at setting the mood for this arc

Ok we're getting a reminder of Utena's story and what happened in the previous musical

I love the way Saionji tosses his hair lmao. Cunty. And how he runs away with that pathetic "UaUaAaaaa!!". he's such a loser

I like how these musicals really want us to associate "the princess was wrapped in the scent of roses" not necessarily with Dios, but with Anthy. She appears every time this line is sung

Ooooh even during the "on the previous episode" part, Mikage and Mamiya are already watching everything from the shadows

Btw, Mikage's voice sounds really similar to the original in my opinion

The parallels between Mamiya and Anthy are so clear, "if you say so, senpai" = "if utena-sama says so"

Akio being introduced so casually when it's obvious that he's super important to the plot also reflects how it happened in anime

Utena/Anthy and Mikage/Mamiya parallels..Mmmm delicious

I looooove how the whole cast is gradually presented (one relationship by one) and then at the end there's Akio with Anthy. Such an amazing way to show the way all these relationships connect and mirror each other

This musical's theme song being about light, mirrors and never letting go of something that might seem like an illusion...huh...

The scenes simultaneously happening on the stage impact each other - Akio is talking with Utena in the tower, but at the same time pushes Kozue towards Miki. Only a stage adaptation would be able to portray it this way

Wait....No kanae?? :((((

Holy shit Mikage's songs have such a creepy sound with the choirs in the background

(Also Mikage pushing Miki, imitating what Akio did to Kozue)

THE ROSE STABBING SCENE. Intense as hell

The contrast between Kozue entering her Dark Era and Wakaba whining about exams lol. Isn't that a perfect encapsulation of the spirit of RGU. The tragi-comedy of it all

The choreography !!

I wonder if there's any significance to the fact that when the cast is standing still singing zettai unmei mokushiroku, Anthy is copying the dance moves of the supporting dancers

The fact that Black Rose duelists have the same skills as the members of the student council showed by having both of them fight Utena at once?? Clever

Also, power of Dios possessing the sword showed by Dios literally fighting alongside Utena

Shame that Kozue didn't do that dramatic falling on the ground thing after her rose got pierced

The egg being called "a cage of freedom". That's a nice way to put it

Saionjeans appears!!

I love shiori already

I can't remember, does Shiori call herself a prodigal daughter in the anime too? Either way that's something I'll be thinking about for the next few days

They did the blood sucking scene 👀 while Shiori and Juri's gay shit was happening 👀

Shiori thinking Juri was reaching for the boy, when she was actually reaching towards her...

Akio walking with the same posture as Touga did... HMMM

They even managed to keep the water motif !

Shiori's horrified expression when she sees her picture...The actress is too good

SHIORI AND JURI FIGHTING SCENE

How did they manage to make them even gayer??

Shiori and Juri taking off each other's roses AAAH

I love that Nanami consistently breaks the fourth wall, it's a perfect thing for her character to do

Wakaba screaming after being stabbed was so heartbreaking...

Akio throwing away that hair clip in the exact same way Touga did with Saionji's exchange diary. Once again: HMMM

Wakaba singing the lines from the first musical about the book she'd read, but this time with her voice breaking, on the verge of crying. I can't stand this

Saionji and Wakaba both singing about a prince on a white horse - Saionji mocking Utena by this, Wakaba actually idealizing Saionji. God, it works so well

Wakaba's duel broke my heart. The actress is so good at capturing the desperation and sorrow in her voice

For the first time Akio is implied to actually have been the one to give Utena the ring...and the way he grabs the supporting dancer and shoves him to the ground. He gives off such sinister vibes

The friendship song is both hopeful and sad because it proves what Akio said - Wakaba had her moment of happiness and specialness but then she had to go back to her normal life of the supporting character. And also because of the fact that while Wakaba and Utena keep singing, Anthy had to go meet up with Akio.. So even though it's heart-warming to see them spend quality time together, none of them really understand what the others are going through

This killed me

"Do you have someone important to you?" And we see the duelists with their black rose counterparts

I almost feel like Mamiya in the flashbacks has slightly different mannerisms that the one in the present impersonated by Anthy.

Mamiya with the candlestick literally SITTING on the COFFIN

"Is (Saionji) going to waltz his ass back in here?" Lmaooo

Did I just imagine it or did Mikage slash Utena on her arm, similarly to how she injured his arm before the duel

Is "Imaginary living body" playing?!?!? Hell yeah!!!

Mikage actually seeing Dios helping Utena fight? Interesting! That's something I didn't expect

I loooove the curtain falling and revealing the projector. That's what I mean when I say that a stage adaptation brings the best out of this anime. There are so many fun visual things like this

I think this arc must have been incredibly difficult to pull off in this form, without being able to do quick cuts and transitions that could be shown in the anime. But they did such a good job! Actually, they kept surprising me with clever ways of adapting the themes of the show to fit this adaptation. I was constantly impressed

The last thing left to say is. PART 3 WHEN

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #moje

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