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#i know masks can be played out of the box but you see i need a year's worth of thought and worldbuilding............
oceantornadoo · 1 month
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two lieutenants. (simon riley x f!reader, all fluff)
not supposed to happen, not really. but the higher ups are finding their morality (where was it all these years ago?) and want to pat themselves on the back for adding a woman to the team.
simon is prepared to hate you, someone taking his spot. this one thing he's done in his life well, the one family he can protect. it itches him in a place he can't shake, the thought of change, of a new person. someone who will stare at his skeleton ways and his gruff voice, someone who will judge but not understand.
but then he meets you, tinkling laugh with doe eyes. calculating in your military knowledge, respectful of the 141's history. never overstepping, never trying to take his place, simply wanting to learn. he tries to hate you, tries to dump sugar in your tea and hide your eye black, but you just laugh and make a face at the sweetness, drawing an extra makeup stick out of your cargoes.
he needs to hate you, but you wash his extra masks without asking on the days he can't touch them for the blood that's laced into the seams. you include his cigarettes on base grocery runs and pour over tactical maps with him until the wee hours, understanding his fundamental need to know everything, more than what's in the briefing papers.
you are prepared to be intimidated by the ghost, the killing machine without a name. you know you're the only woman on an all-male team, but even you can't work friendship miracles. then you meet him and he cocks his head and sizes you up, seeing you as a threat instead of a piece of meat. someone worth considering, not a sideshow, not eye candy.
you try to be scared of him, but how could you when he always leaves an extra tea bag in the almost-empty box? when he keeps hair ties in his front pocket because yours always seem to break in between missions. he listens to your stories and nods thoughtfully, not needing to preen and puff his status like men you've met before.
you need to stay away, but he takes off his gloves in front of you that first time and suddenly you can't. he tells you to call him simon and that he likes the way you say his name, your dissimilar accent coming through. he brushes stray hair from the nape of your neck during a desert mission, tucking it back into your bandana, and you can't remember why you ever intimidated by this man who makes you earn his comfort and care, but who gives it endlessly once you've got it. he's your simon and you're his partner in crime, and suddenly you two could never imagine a team without two lieutenants.
--
im not always into power/rank play i want to be RESPECTED
(don't get me wrong it still eats sometimes)
part one part two part three part four
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boowritess · 4 days
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
image attached
Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
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a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
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mayasaura · 21 days
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one problem with a theatrical adaption of tlt is htn, where the reveal that Gideon lives on works because of the change of second person to first.
the only way i can think of it working is that the actor playing gideon works backstage, like the lights system (but is hidden from the audience aside from subtle hints)
the biggest hint is when when wake breaches pal's river bubble she 'breaks' the lighting system and the stage goes dark. harrow is ushered into the wings by pal so she doesn't see anything, but the lights flick back on just before the curtains drop for a scene change, and pal looks directly up at the light box in surprise and smiles. if the audience is quick to turn around they can see a flash of a black robe.
Oh boy my friend, have you come to the right place!!
So, fun fact about ninja. Bear with me, I am going somewhere with this. The image of a ninja covered head to toe in black, with a hood and mask, comes from Kabuki theatre. It was originally a stagehand uniform. Like stagehands in modern theatre, stagehands in Kabuki would wear all black to signify that they were not really there, and whatever effect they were causing (carrying a prop, creating a breeze, ect.) was to be taken as happening on its own. Basic stagehand stuff, a lot of productions in many styles around the world do it, especially if they don't have fancy rigging systems.
Someone (I don't remember who now, or in what play) had the idea to dress the ninja in a production up as a stagehand. In the convention of the theatre, this made them invisible. The audience was already so used to ignoring stagehands, they didn't know any more than the characters that the ninja was present, despite the actor being clearly visible on stage. Which meant when the ninja struck, it was as if out of nowhere. I can only imagine the uproar in the theatre the first time it happened. It worked so well as to become commonplace, and the rest is history. The popular image of a ninja is still a kabuki stagehand.
So, back to the stage play of Harrow the Ninth. I think you've hit almost exactly on how to incorporate the Gideon twist into a theatrical production. But not as a lighting tech. Gideon is a stage hand. Maybe there would be more than one stagehand, maybe she would be the only one, but she would operate in full view of the audience, literally setting the scenes. I think it works best if she's the only one, but if the production needs more, she should subtly stand out in some way. As the play went on, we would notice that this one stage hand... increasingly interacts with Harrow, though Harrow never acknowledges it. At first it might look like she's playing Harrow's necromancy, because that would be the main special effect she would need to help with. When Harrow is unconscious at the end of a scene, it's always the same stagehand carrying her out. But we all know she's not really there. Until Palamedes acknowledges her. Turns to look right at her, and speaks to her. I can see the scene clearly. He would look at her, stunned, until Gideon finally took off her mask. The line "Kill us twice, shame on God," would be addressed to Gideon, and then he would turn back to Harrow, kiss her on the forehead, and tell her to go. Gideon, always out of Harrow's line of sight, would guide Harrow away while Harrow looked back at Palamedes.
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shit-talker · 1 month
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The only way I can rationalise people accepting literal children going out and fighting crime as Robin is if they don't think Robin is a real child.
I think it would be fun to see how Bruce would use that to his advantage in protecting his kids. Like, if people think Robin isn't human, if they instead think he's a spirit or a ghost, they are less likely to shoot at him, less likely to try and physically attack Robin because they think it would be no use.
The fun part would be deciding HOW they would do this. I like to think that Robin's domino mask doesn't have a hole for his eyes but instead is glazed over so that he can see out of it, but you can't see in. Maybe they install small lights in it so it looks like his eyes glow in the dark, because can you image how fucking scary it would be to just see these two sentient light-like eyes and just know the Batman must be lurking somewhere close by?
Maybe Bruce installs super strong magnets in their gloves because on the chance that someone does pull a gun on his kid close range, it would be a lot easier for them to grab the gun away if they had the force of magnetism on their side. Also, grabbing onto poles and other metal materials would make all the scaling on tall buildings a little safer. Obviously, they'd need a way to turn it on and off, but still. Can you imagine, you're in a warehouse and there are steel frames fucking everywhere and you look up and suddenly there's a child gripping onto one effortlessly? Horrifying.
Maybe they have a voice box. Want to scare people? Play this really ominous recording of a child's laughter that echoes just a bit too loud to be normal. Play this ominous screaming that seems too silent to be real. Play this ticking that seems to never end that induces stress and increases the chance of them messing up.
What would be even funnier is keeping this act up with the Justice League and other teams.
Batman doesn't bring Robin to these meetings at the beginning because he sees no need to involve a preteen in such matters, but at some point the subject does come up and it's sort of like; So, Bats, what exactly is the kid? Like...is he yours?
And Bruce (paranoid as fuck) doesn't want to admit to these people that yes, Robin is my son because hello? That's gotta be his biggest weakness, he would do anything to keep that kid safe and fuck them if they ever tried to hurt him to get to Bruce.
So, he tells them that he's a spirit sent to haunt him and remind the city of it'd failures and the Justice League just... believe him?? Because this is Batman, and why would Batman ever lie about something so, frankly, strange? And it's not a huge deal, like they're a team comprised of metas and aliens and literal godesses, so what if the one normal human guy has a weird little ghost child? Who cares if he cares about it like it's a real boy? Maybe the baby spirit has rights, too!! They don't know!
So, when the JLA gets more popular and becomes an actual, legal part of the American government, they're required to list all of their members. And they class Batman as a human, because that's obvious but next to Robin, they don't really know what to say or how to ask Batman about it, ao they just put "Unknown Child Spirit - TBD"
And then just... never change it?
So, they don't question why a few years later Robin seems to look entirely different, or why after that he changes again, or why Robin is suddenly a girl for a while before going back to a little boy. That's obviously just some weird spirit thing they don't understand, and it's not like Batman is going to explain it!
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nitewingbabi · 9 months
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↳ a pretty mouth             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading,  ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock
It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too. 
He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round. 
You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.
➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop  ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy
His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy. 
Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before. 
Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well. 
When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until. 
🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap 
The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin. 
“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove. 
“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were. 
“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other. 
A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade. 
“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway. 
“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup. 
“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax. 
It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead. 
It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong? 
Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface. 
Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night. 
“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke. 
“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you. 
You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes. 
“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg. 
He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace. 
$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you. 
He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement. 
“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.
Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure. 
“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more. 
“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it. 
“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic. 
“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out. 
You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth. 
He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat. 
Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you. 
“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame. 
“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high. 
“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress. 
“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more. 
“This is gonna be fun.” 
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aliorsboxostuff · 11 months
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A/N Honestly this is really self-indulgent ‘cuz my instincts went “This mf forgets to eat I just know it.” and turned it into a really fluffy fic lmao. I wrote this with a male Spiderman in mind, but gender-neutral readers are also welcome of course! Hope you all enjoyed it!
Lunch
Tags: Miguel O’hara x m!Reader, Possible gn!Reader, Peter B. Parker, Mayday Parker, mention of Gwen, Fluff, Just taking care our resident dilf, He/him prns, Spiderman!Reader, caring!reader, Emotionally constipated Miguel? Emotionally constipated Miguel., Peter being the best wingman, Mayday being her cute self, Self-indulgent
Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. So what do you do? Exactly, force him into taking a break… Sorta.
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Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. Only when his body is finally demanding food does he leave the monitors in the care of Jessica or Lyla while he goes through the cafeteria for a satisfying meal or his favorite Empanadas. So far, if there wasn't a catastrophic event—Which is pointless because he would've seen it before anyone else—Or a Spider-person that needs his immediate help, he keeps himself perched on his platform, monitoring the vast universes, unblinking, the video of him and his daughter playing just on his peripherals. 
“Miguel! How long have you been up there?” Until you.
Another Spiderman that joined the spider society just a couple of months ago has managed to worm his way into Miguel’s thorn bushes. He doesn't even know how, or when, did you start to become a constant in his nonstop monitoring but you did, annoyingly so. Your voice echoes the large room, steps follow suit as you stand at the base of his lair.
You huff, before pulling your mask off and arching a brow while your question is left unanswered. You’ve only done this a handful of times. The day you learned that Miguel O’hara, the guy that doesn't leave his damn perch unless you can hear his stomach rumble a mile away or his body forces him to take a nap, you’ve dedicated a bit of your time to make sure he takes a time off from those screens. Spiderman or not, he still needs rest. 
“Seriously man,” You sigh, considering swinging yourself up to that damn platform. “Have you eaten anything for the last 7 hours?”
Another silence. “You missed lunch, y'know, if it weren't for Lyla I would have thought you died.”
Of course, nothing. You blink, annoyed, before deciding to just turn around and head to the cafeteria yourself. If he won't get food for himself then you will.
At this point, seeing you exit Miguel’s office has been a normal recurrence for the other Spider-people. So when you walk down the corridor, others wave and said their hi’s while you reply back. As much as you miss your universe, hanging out with others of your kind is refreshing. You reach the end of the walkway where it drops before you shoot out webs and swing to where the cafeteria is, cutting your journey short. Who knows how long Miguel has neglected his stomach?
You picked up today's dinner menu, thanking the server, before snagging an Empanada and then swiftly swinging back to Miguel's office. You make your way inside, making sure to not trip on the scattered tech and cables, and to no one’s surprise; he’s still staring at those screens. 
“Here,” You sat the plate and box down on one of the many boxes and tables around his office. “Eat it, or not. I’m sure your stomach will appreciate it if you do,”
You shrugged before swiftly walking back to exit his lair once more, rolling your eyes when he doesn't respond again. Typical.
“I really don't get his problem, I mean, I'm just looking out for him, isn't that what teammates do?”
“No ones ever really brought him food, man,”
“Yeah well he’ll get his own food when he starves, and I don't think the others would like that,” You snicker before landing beside Peter. He was heading to Miguels to report a new potential member so you tagged along, besides you missed holding Mayday. 
“I think he appreciates it though,” Peter presses the button and the door opens, the three of you walking inside. You cross your arm, watching as Mayday starts to scale his dad, her giggles contagious.
“Weird way of showing it,” You huff, eyeing the girl as she starts pulling at Peter's strands before you reach for her, cradling her against your chest and tickling her little body. “No ‘Thank you’? Or y’know, a small ‘thanks’ maybe?” 
She coos, turning her head as if she understands your rambling. You hold her under her arms, then nuzzle her fluffy hair which makes her giggle.  You stare down her eyes, wrinkling your nose. “He’s a little crap isn't he, May?” She cackles in delight which makes you grin.
“Hey, no swearing around the kid,” Peter grumbles and when Mayday makes grabby hands towards her father, you hand her back.
“Says the dad that takes his daughter on missions?” You smirk, lightly punching Pete’s shoulder, making both of you laugh, and Mayday follows suit with her giggles. Finally reaching Miguel’s lair, the man is always on his platform, before Peter calls for him to report. As you watch the platform dramatically descend, this time with Miguel holding a screen tablet and facing you and Peter.
At least he’s not facing those screens this time, you thought. You cross your arms, eye scanning around the room when you spot a clean cafeteria plate on the same table you left it on a couple of hours before. 
“Hey uh…” Peter hums when you start to reach for the plate. “You go on ahead, I’ll be right back,” 
You quickly picked up the utensil and went ahead outside, already swinging your way toward the cafeteria. You peek inside the box and to your delight, the empanada you brought for him is already gone. You smile, humming in relief as you make your way to drop off the plate. You gave it to the staff and threw the box into the trash before you made your way back to the lair again.
A smile creeps its way to your lips and it won't leave, the feeling of a small blooming rose inside your heart as you realize Miguel does eat the food you leave for him. 
As you made your way through the doors, you heard the deep baritone of Miguel's voice conversing with Peter. 
“I don't understand him.” That made your step falter. You swiftly pressed back to the hallway leading to Miguel's lair, making sure to hear their voices clearly, though deep down you knew you shouldn't do this. 
“What don't you understand, man? He just cares about you,” Peter's voice is accompanied by Mayday's giggling. “He brings you food and makes sure you take breaks, I mean, I think that’s a pretty good thing,”
“I know It’s a good thing, Peter. But why? What does he want?”
“Not everything needs to have an ulterior motive, Miguel,” Peter chuckles, you can hear Mayday's laughs too. “Maybe he just wants to. Who knows,”
Then there was silence. You blink, processing the conversation, a million other thoughts fly by you, the biggest was your worry about burdening him. Maybe Miguel doesn't want you to do this, why else would he think you wanted something from him? Maybe you should back down, leave him alone like how everyone else treats him, maybe-
“It is… Nice of him, though,” A sudden rush of heat flows into your cheeks.
“I should thank him, one of these days,” Miguel continued. At this point, Peter should have sensed you but has said nothing. Until Mayday turns the corner and then came crawling into your view, you decided to make your appearance. 
You scoop up the little girl, cuddling her close to your chest. “Hey, kiddo! You shouldn't be back here!”
She cackles, little hands reaching for your strands which makes you laugh. You pull your head up to see Miguel and Peter standing at the end of the hallway, Peter with an oddly smug look while Miguel suddenly turns towards his monitors. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothin’, just done reporting,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, walking towards you before taking Mayday, “I should head back though, this little spider needs her nap, don't you?” 
Mayday giggles in her father's arm, Peter already waving as he exits the office. “Later, you two!”
“See ya’ Pete!” You wave back, catching May’ little hands waving too before the door closes. 
Now it's just you and Miguel. It's rare seeing him off of the platform, away from that far-away bubble. You’ve only seen him on duty with other Spideys, that's the only time he’s away from the glowing screens. He’s still focused on the screen tablet when you jogged closer. Now that you’re meters away from him, You notice how broad his shoulders actually are, and the slight curls on the back of his head. You clear your throat, looking at anything other than Miguel.
“So… The new recruit Peter gave you? We taking them in?”
“Huh? Yeah, yes.” Miguel shifts slightly, you rub your hands together.
“Alright, cool,” You cringe, the air suffocating with tension and unspoken words. You look around, before deflating, your hand scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I’m gonna go then-”
“Wait.” You stop yourself from turning. “You don't have to keep doing that,”
“Doing what?” You raise a brow, with your mask off and Miguel in front of you, he can clearly see your slightly smug face.
“That. Bringing me food. I don't need it,” Miguel finally pries his eyes away from the tablet, now meeting yours. 
You chuckle. “Last time I checked, you're still human Miguel,”
“I can do that myself,” He steps towards you, which makes you pull up your hands defensively. 
“Alright, sure boss, but you only eat when your body forces you. That can't be healthy,” You huff, crossing your arms and meeting his deep reds. He backs down, looking towards the far wall. 
Great, an argument instead of him just agreeing with me, You sighs, looking down at the concrete floor. What were you thinking? Miguel can take care of himself, of course, he’s a fucking old man and you probably disrupted his old man metabolism or some shit like that.
“I- Thanks.” Your perk up, quickly meeting his still-averting eyes. “That's what I wanted to say. Thanks,”
You smirk. ”Yeah, of course, Miguel,” 
“Maybe… You can let Lyla take over, or someone, and uh…” Shit, maybe this is too bold…
Fuck it. “Join me for lunch, sometime?”
It was a mistake. The deafening silence was clearly a loud rejection from Miguel and you wanted to quickly blurt out something, anything to salvage what you had before, but he beat you to it.
“Sure, sometime,” You whip your head around, almost smacking with how close Miguel and you were standing. His eyes widened slightly, a ghost of a smirk across his lips and it made you gulp.
“Y-yeah, sometimes, yeah,” His brow quirks a bit when you start stumbling your way through his lair. “I should uh- I think Gwen called me so uh-” 
The last thing he saw from you was your stuttering word and your body turning the corner of his office, then a loud ‘Fuck yeah!’ before you disappeared. Truly a wonder how you, out of anyone, managed to pique Miguel’s interest. 
Reblogs are appreciated <3
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evermoreal · 3 months
Text
some stalker!ghost thoughts ౨ৎ ࿐
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author’s note. i have never been into dark content but i got this idea in my head & ran with it >.< really, it’s not that dark, he’s just obsessive & needs to be near u at All Times. however he is a stalker so please heed the warnings !!
cw. 18+ mdni, fem reader, stalking, murder (nothing detailed & the reader doesn’t know), breaking & entering, voyeurism, masturbation. lmk if i missed anything ! <3
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∘♡༉∘ he meets you while on leave. it’s not often he’s off-base, and when he is, he rarely leaves the dingy little apartment he rents.
∘♡༉∘ despite the rumours, ghost is human. a human with a terrible sweet tooth, actually. after spending too long staring at his empty pantry, willing something to appear, he decides to check out the little bakery he’d spotted on an early-morning run a few days ago.
∘♡༉∘ it was quiet inside — so quiet he had to double check that the ‘open’ sign was actually lit up. it was, and there was a faint, bubble-gum pop song playing from somewhere behind the ‘employees only’ door. after a moment of deliberation, he dings the little bell atop the counter.
∘♡༉∘ there’s a short yelp, and that sickly-sweet music is immediately paused. not a moment later, the door is swung open, and the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen is rattling off non-sensical apologies. there’s a bit of flour on your nose, some frosting on your chin.
∘♡༉∘ ghost knows he’s intimidating — enjoys it, even. not once in his life has he felt at all bad about it, not until now. the way you stutter over your words, staring up at him with wide eyes, growing frantic the more he silently stares has him regretting everything.
∘♡༉∘ now, he wishes he’d taken the time to swap out his balaclava for a surgical mask, or at least worn something other than his usual black hoodie and jeans. all he can do is shove his hands in his pockets, and say as softly as he can manage, “‘s okay, sweetheart.”
∘♡༉∘ you visibly relax, at that. shoulders slumping from where they’d begun to climb toward your ears. after that, you’re asking how you can help him, and when he asks for suggestions, you’re full of them. he ends up leaving with a box full of treats he doesn’t need, but he just couldn’t say no to anything you offered.
∘♡༉∘ only two days later and he’s returning. he doesn’t know why, but he can’t get you out of his head.
∘♡༉∘ the sight of your big, toothy smile when he walks in has his heart soaring. you’re immediately asking about the treats, if he enjoyed them or not. of course he did — he couldn’t get through all of them without a sore stomach, but the ones he did eat were the best damn baked goods he’d ever had.
∘♡༉∘ it’s easy enough to find your social media; you’re not great with privacy settings, and he spotted your name on your tag the first day he met you. instagram, snapchat, twitter, spotify, even facebook. your posts are so sweet, he finds himself smiling absentmindedly as he scrolls through them. baked goods, selfies of you and your friends, animals, the moon. he doesn’t know why he’s so satisfied when he concludes you don’t have a partner.
∘♡༉∘ there’s a photo of you at the beach alongside your friends. you’re smiling in it, the way one would for a photo — it’s not genuine, not like how you smile at him. but you look beautiful, so much so that it has something foul twisting in his stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. the photo wasn’t particularly revealing, and you weren’t posed scandalously, but… he grinds his teeth as he goes through the comments. he’s so, so proud when he sees that you haven’t responded to the men, not even deigning to like their comments. heart eyes and shitty compliments — he files away their names, somewhere in the back of his mind. just in case.
∘♡༉∘ it becomes routine to visit you after that. every few days he came in, spending more money than anyone should at a bakery. only once did he make the mistake of coming in on your day off. it only made sense for him to wait for your coworker to use the restroom and sneak back to the break room, snapping a photo of your schedule.
∘♡༉∘ additionally, and even more strangely, he’s glad the bakery has the sweet habit of labeling who made what treats. when you suggest the ones made by your coworkers, he’ll still purchase them, just to see you smile, but they don’t go anywhere near his mouth.
∘♡༉∘ and, hey, it’s not like sticking around until the end of your shift was a terrible idea. he’d sit in his car on the other side of the street, monitoring whoever entered and exited. he just needed to make sure you were safe. a sweet thing like you, the world would chew you up and spit you out so easily — there’s no way he’s gonna let that happen.
∘♡༉∘ it’s rare he deems someone a threat, but when an older man leaves the place with a scowl, he gets a bad feeling. immediately, he’s back inside the bakery, only to find you teary-eyed and sniffly. fury takes hold in an instant, but when you spot him and whimper out his name, he’s unable to leave again, no matter how badly he needs to hunt that man down. you step into his arms and ghost knows that prick will have to wait — right now, he needs to take care of you. wiping your eyes, cooing at you until you calm down enough to explain what happened. he insists you take your break, and when you do, he treats you to the restaurant across the street you’d mentioned you’d liked.
∘♡༉∘ the prick never comes back. you don’t question why, and simon’s glad for that. he doesn’t know how accepting you’d be if ghost told you he was buried a few cities over.
∘♡༉∘ after that, ghost’s instincts kind of go haywire. in his eyes, you’re no longer safe when he’s not around, not even at home. he spends his nights parked a few houses down, watching you through the window you so often forgot to draw the blinds across.
∘♡༉∘ a few weeks later, it was clear you were going through a bad time. although simon was greatly relieved when he found out it was merely a common flu, he was furious you still had to go to work to support yourself. in just a few months, if he kept at it, you might let him support you. for now, though, the best he could manage was slipping through an unlocked window and catching up on the chores you’d fallen behind. doing the dishes, your laundry, taking out your garbage. now, when you returned home, you’d be able to relax, to get better.
∘♡༉∘ additionally, he made mental notes of things that needed fixing. the lightbulb in your upstairs hallway was flickering, there was a leaky tap in the kitchen, and a few of your doors could use new hinges. he’d get to that, too, eventually.
∘♡༉∘ (he prayed you were delirious enough in your sickness to not notice. he was mostly right — through the window, he spotted you staring at the now-clean dishes with a puzzled expression. you brushed it off, and he exhaled in relief, returning to his phone, where he was purchasing a refill of your favourite perfume).
∘♡༉∘ it was hard, though. work often called him away, and he didn’t want any of the neighbours reporting a suspicious black truck parked on the street. after much debate, he purchased some cameras, installing them in a few rooms and along the exterior of your house.
∘♡༉∘ being able to check up on his girl helped him sleep when he was away. he had to pay a few extra dollars for it, but now whenever the motion sensors went off at night, he’d get a notification sent to his phone.
∘♡༉∘ he panics when it goes off one night, a while after he’d watched you fall asleep. it woke him up out of his dead sleep, body attuned to the sound of the notification. he was on base, a ways away from you; he couldn’t unlock his phone fast enough.
∘♡༉∘ however, he merely found you, alone in your room, writhing on your bed. he was confused for a long moment — were you hurt? did he need to call someone to check up on you? however, when he clicked the little ‘unmute’ button, and a low buzzing sound cut through his speakers, he came to the realization with a groan. you were getting off.
∘♡༉∘ he knew he should close the app. he knew this was a new level of invading your privacy. he knew he was disgusting . . . but the blood in his brain had already begun it’s descent to his cock, quick enough to make him light headed and a little stupid.
∘♡༉∘ the walls in the barracks were thin. he made sure to keep the volume low as he listened to your quiet moans and breathy whimpers. pressing his face close to the screen, he watched with wide, dilated eyes, cock twitching in his briefs every time you bucked your hips against the vibrator.
∘♡༉∘ simon didn’t quite know how it happened, but somehow he’d ended up on his tummy, cock fucking into his fist while he imagined it was your pretty little cunt. he finished embarrassingly quick, growling against his pillow, waiting just long enough to hear the sounds of your climax.
∘♡༉∘ the hazy, post-climax period was cut short when he heard your voice, quiet and muffled against your palm. it was breathy with the come-down, but his heart lurched in his chest. he had to rewind the video, holding the speaker up to his ear.
∘♡༉∘ sure enough, you’d uttered his name. simon. you were thinking of him.
∘♡༉∘ despite claiming you long ago, something was cemented in simon’s chest at the sound. he couldn’t wait any longer. the moment he returned, you’d be his. no matter what he had to do.
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ok topic is ugly parts of autism let’s goooo
way my high level autism present is. unable see people as people.
see people same as objects. unable recognize people think people have inner life have experiences have feelings have emotions have interests.
if people share thing with me that all there is. if you give ride to me then see you same group as car. if talk with you about specific topic can only see you as thing go to to talk about specific topic. call partner “partner” because is what language other people use but really none of what people mean by partner really just see them same as stuffies as blank chat text box to talk at n see body as stim toy. so play with their body literal same way as play with squishy and forget they have feeling have sensation have pain gets bored gets annoyed not interested in do same thing over n over n over
n get upset when interrupted. when told hey more than that. when reminded even gently hey cannot treat people as objects people not same catagory as objects
because brain literal not able. unable to see another way.
cannot see other people as people can only see them as what i do with them
get confused n upset when world not work way want it to not work way brain think it does
don’t care abt you cannot care about you n your inner life n emotion n feeling n experience, can only care n think about what i want n what me brain designate you as
n not able see another way
believe me have tried
not trying be mean. not trying objectify manipulate dehumanize people.
just brain literal unable.
n cannot compensate or mask or mentally make up for it. cannot temporarily talk self out of. often times not even realize it what am doing—only realized this is case, only able recent put word in it because partner pointed out, telling me it so obvious.
n still finding more n more ways this extend to in my life. every day find more ways.
it color everything. every interaction with every person
this what (part) mean by me say me theory of mind deficit
brain can only recognize me
none of this exaggeration or metaphor or hyperbole.
“i see people as tools” know there people who say that about themself and mean it in super smart way able read people n then get them do what they want them to do, or mean as self deprecating or edgy hyperbole
n when people find out you actually mean it actually literally realistically word for word they get horrified. because they say it too as joke n no they not actually monster like that what wrong with you
for me it literal
idk how word it
ETA!! regret didn’t do this when post but guess better late than never but if you not 1) high support needs higher level autism AND 2) mutual please don’t tell me “relate” even if think you do please. don’t want hear it.
[plain text of bold: if you not 1) high support needs higher level autism AND 2) mutual please don’t tell me “relate” even if think you do]
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ccraccz · 6 months
Note
Hi! May i request for a heartsteel! (All of em) x artist! Reader, reader has a sketch book of them and they saw it when they were roaming around the reader's room. How would they react? Tysm!
Heartsteel x Artist!Reader
Context: You're staying/moving to their place
Aphelios
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APHELIOS OML 🧚‍♀️
Anyways, you're staying at his place for a while due to an argument with your roommate.
Aphelios was laying on his bed as you shower, on his phone ordering some fast food for all three of you (alune, you and himself)
He turns around, laying on his belly when he notices that he's laying on something.
He pouts before sitting up on his knees s and taking the book that was under him in his hand.
His phone lays on his pillow as he silently, but curiously, skims through the pages
He stops at a page where he notices a familiar face.
It's him
With out a mask
He turns to the next page.
And his sister is on it, then him, then hom again, sett, ezreal, him again, yone, and more.
His eyes sparkle as his face, under the mask he wears everywhere everyday, slowly becomes pink.
All the comments beside the drawings of him, the stars and hearts around it, the small characters commenting on it.
He's so entranced that he doesn't notice that the water stopped running.
It is only when he hears you call out to him for a towel that he stops staring at the masterpieces you made.
He's so great full and happy and glad and AAAA
His brain is going overdrive with thoughts as he grabs a clean, fluffy towel and crack open the door to the bathroom.
Shoving his hand inside, he feels you grab the towel before he comically rushes to close the sketchbook and put it where he found it.
He orders the food and just smiles and kicks his legs in the air in happiness.
When you exit the bathroom, you just see him silently giggling and kicking his legs.
He's so cute hhh
Ezreal
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You're moving to his place
Señor bunny teeth decides to help out with the boxes of clothes and things
He's just
So so so excited to add more personality to his place!
He's so excited to see you everyday in the morning, after work, before sleeping, seeing you naked, seeing you waking up, having sex with out interruptions.
What a dream come true!
While he's thinking of such, the last box in his hands, with a mark saying that it goes in the bedroom.
When he opens the door, after passing by you and getting a good ol kiss on the cheek, a large smile on his face, he squats down to place the box down when,
It pops open
All the books come tumbling out of the box before he can react.
Sweat dropping, he pales as he folds the box and started to freak out.
One of the books that fell opened to a page with a drawing of himself
He felt as if time stopped as he stared at the drawing
His cheeks turned pink as a cheeky smile stretched out on his face.
He grabs that sketchbook and sits down like a child playing with blocks.
He scans through the rest of the book, most of the drawings being of himself in different clothing and positions ( 😏)
He giggles and kicks his feet, tossing and turning on the floor before clipping through and teleporting towards the couch where you're laying.
He smiles, and shoves his faces into your tummy, your sketchbook in his arms as he giggles.
"I love you so muccchhh!!! Augh your art is so good!" He lifts his head off of you, chin digging into your tummy.
He continues to ramble on, saying that he'll show K'sante and Sett these for their next hit! And more
You cover your face, knowing that he will not stop talking about this.
Yone
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You're staying at his place, summer vacation has arrived for you and you wanted nothing but to see the man of your dreams.
I love him sm
Yone, as the gentleman he is, accepted you with open arms and tons of kisses before accommodating to your needs.
He was really planning in sleeping on the floor, nuh uh he's not tho.
While you're sitting on the dining table for two, a pencil in hand and your trusty sketchbook in front of you
He came behind you, two plates of food that he had just finished making.
He was taken of guard before a slight smile takes over his fine face.
The drawing was of him cooking
He leans down and blows on your ear, making you jump back.
He chuckles before placing the food down near you, perfectly plated for a celebrity.
He walks back to his seat as you place your sketchbook away and wait for him to sit down before eating
He makes a mental note to ask for you to show him your sketchbook.
Sett
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He's so cute!
You're staying with him for a while due to your parents kicking you out for a while.
Your boyfriend never liked your parents, they were quite mean to you.
It reminded him of his father.
He knew how to comfort you, and his mom totally loved you, probably even more than him!
So when you suddenly appear at his moms place with a grim look on your face, wet from the rainstorm.
He, of course, let you in and took your bag off of you so you could go wash up.
Sett goes to tell his mom about you being there before going to his room and placing your bag in his room and getting one of his hoodies for you to put on and a towel.
By then, you've taken off your clothes and entered the warm shower
Sett gives his hoodie and the clean towel to his mom to place in the bathroom as he starts getting his bedroom situated
He scavenges through his plush collection for your favorite plush, cleaned up the slight mess he had in the corners of his room
But when he picked up your wet bag to place it in a more convenient place did it get messy.
The bottom of your bag, such a worn out bag, broke and all the things you had in there, fell out onto his floor.
But the main thing he took notice off is a book that fell and opened.
The page had his face on it
The face he made in the MV of their song.
He froze for a second before continuing to collect the things on the floor and placing them somewhere more clean.
But he couldn't stop the soft smile that he sported on his face.
Kayn
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SIR
Augh he's so hot its unbearable
He's coming over to your place.
He just can't be away from you for so long, a week, without complaining.
So when he comes back home to an empty living room, the shower not running, and he's now noticing that your car isn't in the garage?
He's sitting down on the couch and pouting like a little baby
Rhaast the decides to complain because you're not here, and that his shirt is suffocating him.
But kayn is sad, sob
He does the off his shirt though
and rummages through your fridge
And goes to your room and just takes in your smell.
The main thing about you he really loves, other than how you tolerate him and other people around you, is how you smell and dress
He jumps onto your bed and lays down before noticing a shiny little thing on your desk
Kayn, sadly, gets up from your bed and walks towards your desk, sitting down on your chair
He notices that it's unlocked, a key beside it.
He smirks, you have a diary???
He turns to a page and
It's not a "dear diary.." started but his face
It looks like a character sheet of himself.
Kayn has never looked so fine in his eyes oml
His brain basically said "AWOOGA"
He basically fell in love with you all over again no joke.
Kayn takes out his phone and starts taking pictures, he's for sure going to look at these and take every piece of detail he can.
K'sante
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This goofy goober
He's so kewl
You had moved from your place to his recently
And he noticed that your side of the office has become quite messy while you were out getting some groceries.
And he decides to take initiative and organize your part of the office to a comfortable liking
Putting papers on one side, pencils where they're supposed to be, sketchbook beside the keybo-
The damn sketchbook fell and the pencil inside of it rolled away.
Great
He stares at the sketchbook in disspointment only for his expression to change as he pics up the much smaller book
It's him! Awe he looks so nice in your style!!
He skims through the rest of the sketchbook book, keeping a finger in the page that it opened on.
'You're so cute,' he thinks, placing down the sketchbook to were he was going to before it fell.
You bet he's gonna draw you and tape it on your monitor for you to see.
Alune
(There's literally no gifs of her, and that makes me sad)
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ALUNE
Ms pretty lady
she found that you left your sketchbook at her place.
She, of course, found it because you left it on her bed and curiosity picked at her and wanted to know what was inside!
So she took a peek
And was very pleased at what she found.
So, unannounced, she appeared at your front door with a large smile on her face, telling you she's gonna sleep over for today while handing you your sketchbook.
You both sat around on the couch as she told you that she took a peek in it and saw your talent
And then she just rambled on and on about the future, animals, and the band!
She's so sweet and cute
---------------------------------------------------
Note!
Uhhh so, you didn't specify if you wanted female or male so I did gender neutral 🧚‍♀️ I also wanted to do alune (even though I don't know ow much about her woops) because I wanna show appreciation for her!! Other than that, I also changed the request a bit, and I wanted to keep it a bit interesting so most of them didn't look around your room woops sorry.
Either way! I hope you enjoy it! 💙💙 thank you so much for being my first request!! 💙💙💙🧚‍♀️
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tojisun · 7 months
Text
kinktober — 08: scent kink
konig x fem reader
!! smut - minors dni; scent kink (built within a ‘scene’); d/s play; brat taming; repeating use of being ‘fixed’ as part of the brat taming; mask kink; use of petnames (including daddy)
kinktober masterlist
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konig shoots a sharp look towards you, just a quick glance, and you know tonight’s going to be one of those nights – angry, rough, but so, so filling.
you tremble in anticipation, skirting towards your room as though you can’t hear the thundering sounds of his boots trailing after you, purposeful in the way he stomps. because konig has always been quiet, but not tonight.
tonight he’s prowling, making a statement that only you and him would understand. it’s a proclamation. a promise. you pretend that heat isn’t already building in the pit of your stomach.
you barely crossed the safety of your room when konig scruffs you on the base of your neck, holding securely, before he’s locking the door.
your breath hitches, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips, but he remains silent as he guides you to your bed. there was a moment of pause when your shins hit the bed box before konig continues to push you down, folding you in half until you’re left presenting to him. 
“mm,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “look at you, meine engel.”
you want to snark at him and tell him you can’t – is he fucking stupid? – but konig’s hand tightens around your neck as warning, and you whine, the first of many tonight. 
“shh, no anger from you tonight, schatzchen. you will just lay down and take me, jo?”
you snarl at the crooning tone, your mind buzzed with the need to lash out. to fight. so you do, you kick behind, blindly aiming for anything of konig – he’s a big and tall target, surely maybe even your desperate lashing out will chance a proper hit. 
but konig just growls, pressing a knee on your lower back to subdue you. “what did i say?” his voice is thick with building anger, his hold on his accent slipping up to coat his words.
still, you know he understands; you know that this has long turned into a scene – a moment where you can be bratty and angry, and konig will fix you right up. the question was: how would he?
the thrill of the unknown shoots down your spine and you mewl, teeth digging into your bottom lip, before hissing at him. 
“fuck you, king.”
you know he hates the nickname – a slight to the personhood he’s built under the callsign ‘konig’ – and you almost purr in satisfaction when you feel him freeze behind you.
konig has always been so beautiful when angry. 
his hand leaves your neck and you almost whimper in protest only to pause when shuffling sounds resonate from somewhere behind you. you blink, trying to feel if it were your gear that konig is stripping, but it wasn’t and tremors overtake you at the realization that he is stripping himself instead.
“k-konig, no-”
“i don’t want to hear it, katzchen,” he says, cutting you off.
you snap your teeth at the petname in an instant, humiliation building at the pit of your stomach. your lips part open for whatever it was that you wanted to say only for your mind to catch onto the sudden shift from your lover, the change so subtle that you almost buckled at the realization: konig’s voice is no longer muffled. he’s removed his mask. 
the fight sizzles out of you and you collapse on the bed, eyes blown wide open despite being blind to whatever he has in store for you. you lay there, still presenting for him, still trusting him, and konig chuckles at seeing you suddenly turn docile.
“that’s right, liebling. this is how i want you – didn’t i promise that i’ll fix you?”
the words are purred on your ear, his lips – unmasked! your mind screams – pressing ever so teasingly on the shell of it, ghosting a kiss.
you whimper, not trusting your voice nor your mind, feeling the fog slowly surround you. konig chuckles and finally, finally, presses his lips on the side of your head, not really kissing but breathing you in, before he’s stepping away again.
a resonating whine rumbles from the base of your throat because you don’t want him to leave. you don’t want the space between you two. you want him to fill you up with his warmth and his cock, his big hands making you fall apart. you want all of him, all of that he has to offer. you need him. you-
“shh, little maus. no need to cry,” his voice cuts through your spiralling thoughts and you realize that tears have begun to slip down your cheeks. his hand drops on the top of your head, caressing slowly for comfort. “i will be all that you breathe. would you like that, mein engel?” 
you blink your eyes open, not understanding what he means, but konig had asked you a question, asked for your consent, and you nod eagerly.
“good girl.”
it takes two heartbeats until something black obscures your vision. it takes even longer for you to realize that it was konig’s mask. 
you freeze, lips parting open as konig brushes your hair away from your face, muttering in german as he tucks in stray strands behind your ears, before he slips his mask on to you. 
it was instant how your senses reacted – your ears are muffled, your vision continues to be obscured as konig fixes the mask to fit in the eyeholes, your skin tingling with the feeling of having more covering. you don’t know if you like the change, then, you breathe in.
konig’s scent hits you, filling you up with flames of desire. you keen as you finally slip under the fog, something snapping in your mind as you fall because this – being surrounded by all that konig is – feels right. it’s not enough but it settles the thrum under your skin, extinguishing the licking flames of your ire. 
you continue to breathe him in, your mind loppy even as desire crashes you with its intensity. konig chuckles like he understands what you can’t voice, like he knows just what it is that you truly need.
you feel him press a kiss on your head then on your back, tracing the curve of your body until he has to stand up to ease him from the strain. you don’t seem to notice as you clutch at the ends of his mask, fisting the cloth like you are afraid that it’ll disappear. 
he coos, running his hands along your body, before planting them on your waist. “you ready for more, liebling?”
you give him a soft nod, still feeling loopy from the way his scent covers you, filling you up with every breath. he is all that you know, all that grounds you, and you tremble at the feeling of his dominance over you.
“words, meine sonne. use your words.”
“konig, please,” you whimper, buckling at his command as your lips press on his mask. you mewl when his scent filters into your mouth, dipping along the surface of your tongue almost like you can taste him. 
you hear him coo, his hands digging into your fatigues, before experienced fingers begin to undress you. you lay there, floating between reality and the safety of his scent, mewling every time scarred palms caress a new inch of your exposed skin, his touch reverent as they massage your tender flesh. you don’t complain when he jostles you up, giggling, instead, as konig gently removes each piece of your clothing until you lay there in nothing but his mask. 
you hear him groan, lust curling along the notes of his voice, and you gasp as his hands grab fistfuls of your ass before spreading the cheeks apart. the cool air hits your exposed cunt and you mewl at the feeling of damp slick trickling down your thighs.
the sound that you make is engulfed by konig’s own growl. “scheiße,” he curses, his grip on you gaining strength. you buck into his hands with a quiet whine, knowing that his patience has thinned enough and that you’re close to getting what you want. 
to getting what you need. 
just one more push. just one more reason to make konig fall to his knees.
you fist his mask, lifting the cloth just high enough that your lips are peeking through. you wonder if he’s watching – he is; his trained eyes always cataloguing whatever it is that you do, greedy in the way they engulf the view you make, greedy in the way they always come back to you. 
you lick your lips, trembling when the faint taste of konig touches your tongue, before you murmur, “daddy, fuck me, please.”
an oath that you’re no longer a brat. that you’re now his good girl, ready to be cared for. ready to be fixed. 
konig’s excitement is silent but you hear the quiet thuds of his knees hitting the floor, long legs bracketing your shorter ones. his hands squeeze your ass, his fingers spreading you open again, but this time it is less teasing as his actions burn with purpose. 
you squeak when his breath hits your backside before a wet muscle licks a stripe on your leaking cunt. your heart lurches into your throat, your hold on his mask loosening to fist on the sheets instead as konig continues to tease your wet folds with his tongue.
fuck. fuck!
“da-!”
your moan peters into a whine when konig pulls away, your pooling desire simmering back down into nothing but a thrum. 
no! you want more!
“shh, engel. no need to cry,” konig’s voice is muffled as he presses his lips along the flesh of your ass. “just wanted to praise you, liebling. just wanted to say how good you smell.” callused thumbs run soothing circles on your skin. “you smell so delectable. so good. all for me, jo?” he swipes a finger along your folds as he says this. 
“yes!” you cry out, trembling for more. “all for you, konig! ‘m all yours!”
konig nips the tender flesh of your ass with a chuckle. “good girl,” he says, one of his favourite things to say to you.
then, he descends to finally, finally, eat you out.
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tags: @stargirlrchive @cursingtoji @liwooa
884 notes · View notes
sciderman · 7 months
Note
Round boy + mask = square jaw
Pointy boy + mask = egg
Why?
wade's mask is masc. (hahaehehehahaeo...)
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wade does a lot to mask his soft interior – he worries a lot about appearing soft.
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[x]
he's GETTING SOFT (and peter loves it. he loves when wade gets soft.)
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[x]
underneath it all, wade's soft and round. no matter how he tries to hide it.
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[x]
wade is always hiding it – to way more extreme and destructive measures than peter, actually.
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it's kind of funny, wade's insistence that peter needs to be honest to himself - because wade's the poster boy. wade finds it difficult to be true to himself, because he doesn't even know which "self" is true at this point. he's constantly pretending to be someone or something else.
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something that'll please others. make him more palatable. more entertaining. make the audience side with him, even if he thinks he's undeserving. fake it till you make it.
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sometimes i think about how wade lost his virginity the night before he enlisted (because he was worried the guys would make fun of him if he was a virgin.)
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of course they made fun of him anyway.
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he doubles down - he puts on the macho air that everyone expects from him. he can be the bad boy. he can be the rugged antihero that is a total jerk but everyone loves anyway because he's the tough guy. it's why you'll never get to see what adult wade looked like pre-weapon X - you'll see wade in his teenage years - but once he enlists - that's not wade wilson. he's constantly playing a role. cool action hero, whatever'll get him the girl.
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it isn't until weapon X that he's forced into a position where he can't hide anymore. everything is on his skin. plain as day, for everyone to see.
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[x]
deadpool becomes the mask wade can hide all his damage and his insecurities behind because lord knows he can't hide a thing when he's out of it. like a lobster out of his shell. he's soft, and pink and tender. he couldn't survive without that hard red shell exterior, to make him look tough.
peter's mask is also masc, but his mask is peter parker.
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spider-man is kind of funny. in that – outwardly, it does look similar to deadpool's performative masculinity. he has "-man" in his name, for christ's sake - but - it's not, really. you wouldn't say spider-man is overly macho. even as much as peter insists it is - nobody buys it.
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you'd definitely, by all accounts, call peter parker the more masc aligned of the two - peter wears baggy clothes, he's kind of uptight, a little bit boring - and spider-man - spider-man's downright flamboyant - from his mannerisms, his jokes, and his tights. oh, and his fluttery little web-wings. he is fruity.
spider-man, in his tiny fruity little tights: YEAH. take a look at ME, girls. this is what true manhood looks like.
you might say the confidence it grants him is what makes him macho - but i think the fun thing about peter's gender journey is his embracal that actually - confidence isn't necessarily a masculine trait, and that - actually, his gender icons (save for uncle ben) are largely confident women.
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i think that's why olive is so dear to me - that peter's leaning into a confidence and self-assuredness that doesn't come from being conventionally masculine. and, in fact - peter parker might be so shy and insecure because he's trying to fit in a box that doesn't fit him.
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i think spider-man is more of a playground for peter. a place where he can experiment with his gender and his sexuality and the concept of "manhood" and what it means to him.
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he can explore, because the anonymity grants him less social pressure to fit in. society can despise spider-man, and yeah - it'll get him down, but the repercussions are relatively little. peter has to fit in, to survive. and, as peter parker, he's terrified of those repercussions.
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peter has such a desire to explore his identity and understand himself better - but, under safe, controlled conditions - whether that's under the anonymity of his mask or... or with people, who make him feel safe.
so, spider-man is peter's outlet to be fruity without repercussions. peter's og dragsona, actually. so – lithe, and curvy. he is so shape.
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643 notes · View notes
oceantornadoo · 2 months
Note
IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!
Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!
Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3
so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...
tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=
simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.
when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.
the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.
over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.
and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.
--
your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.
"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.
"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.
simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.
"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.
simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.
"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.
finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.
"let's get you to bed, wife."
729 notes · View notes
nosesitter · 9 months
Text
Help, I’m stuck!
| Father in law!Joel Miller
3.9k words
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a/n: let me real quickly clarify no I don’t wanna fuck my FIL I just wanna fuck Joel Miller, this came to me in a completely different way but I added another idea in and made this! I hope y’all love it cause as I post I’ll be writing an add on cause FIL Joel was something I didn’t know I needed. It’s niche but someone has to write it, also PLS let me know if you want anything specific I love writing blurbs for people 🫶🏻 not even Joel miller I love hot characters, masked men, mean men, thot men, BIG BURLY HAIRY MEN!! Joel will talk more next part I just could only get him in at the end
⚠️: Father in law!Joel Miller, reader has an onlyfans, no Sarah but Joel does have a grown son, age gap not specified for reader but Joel is 55, no outbreak, it’s definitely dub/con, mentions of alcohol and drugs(don’t do any without me), recorded sex, small anal and food play?(it’s just a line you’d probably glaze right over it), f masterbation, unprotected pinv, toys, creampie, use of sweet pet names 🫶🏻and then the word slut is tossed around a couple times, reader can fit in a dryer lmfaooo never thought I’d type that
“The whole ‘stuck inside the dryer’ that could be fun.”
Two years ago you started an only fans. Your husband loved the idea of it. Hyping you up, filming the content, giving you ideas. He loved coming home seeing you dressed up, camera ready to record the homemade videos, it made him insane, causing him to go hard and give it his all only to throw in the towel after your wet cunt milks him of his release 30 minutes after hitting record. It became a full time job for you. Once you started it was hard to stop, pulling one orgasm out of you opened a Pandora’s box of animalistic lust, in the past you’ve been called a nymphomaniac. It was a blessing and a curse to be so horny all the time. After videos with him you would let him rest, kissing him goodnight then heading to the guest room to make solo content. Your trusty pink vibrator and thick realistic dildo helping you reach your climax 5 more times before you call it a night then head to bed to edit and post the content.
Your husbands words ring through your ears as he opens a bottle of wine for you. ‘Stuck in the dryer’ it was simple really, trying to think why you’ve never thought of it before. Tonight you’re having dinner with your father in law, Joel Miller. The grumpiest old man you’ve ever met. In the two years you’ve been married you’ve seen him smile a few times, once when the two of you met, another at your engagement, and then the night of your wedding as you were leaving for your honeymoon, very quickly he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a big hug ‘welcome to the family’ he whispered when he pulled back a drunken smirk was plastered on his face. there was something about the whole interaction that sent a shiver down you spine. After the honeymoon he was over, a lot. Finding things around the new house to fix. Always mumbling to himself;
‘them new contractors don’t know what they’re doin’
Walker entertained his dads need to be helpful and useful and so did you. So to return the favors you’ve banged out dinner and dessert for the man. As you’re setting the table there’s a loud knock at the door. Walker grabs the door and smiles big when he sees his father pulling him into a manly hug, both of them patting each others back three times. “Welcome in dad! Yeah, she’s in the kitchen just finished up.” You can hear Joel’s voice ask for you, maybe it was the sip of wine you just had but hearing his voice made your legs… buckle.
His boots stepping across the hardwood floor, crossing the threshold into the dining room. Standing next to the set table, one hand on your hip the other holding your generously full glass of wine. This has to be the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on Joel’s face.
“Hello there sweetness ,you do all this for me?” Pulling you into a side hug his big warm arm going around your waist. tightly. yours going around his shoulder as you rest your head on him for a brief second. You pull back but his one arm lingers around you a little while longer.
“Well we just wanted to say thank you for working so hard to help fix up the place.” He sets the 6 pack he brought with him on the table grabbing one of the bottles and twisting off the cap and wrapping his lips around taking a big gulp. There’s a sudden dryness in your throat and you swear you can hear yourself gulp when he pulls the bottle away and runs his tongue across his bottom lip to gather the excess.
“Let’s eat, honey I’m hungry!” Walker says and the three of y’all sit down and begin to eat. One thing about Joel is that he’s a vocal eater, meaning he will moan and groan if the food is good. He loves your cooking, says it’s just like his ma’s even brought his brother Tommy over for him to have some too. You’re surprised he’s not here either. So when Joel stabs his fork into the baked chicken you were making earlier it comes as music to your ears when he lets out a throaty growl. Legs crossing even tighter now causing you to reach for your glass of wine.
When everyone finishes with dinner you head back into the kitchen to grab Joel’s favorite, your mixed berry pie. Quick on your heels is your husband. As you’re closing the oven he comes behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pressing kisses into the side of your neck. “Mm I keep imagining you on your knees inside the dryer.” He mumbles into your ear his breathy whisper making you giggle from its ticklish feel. He presses himself into the back of your ass the dress you’re wearing is already thin enough so you can practically feel the outline of him on your skin. Grabbing the pie again you quickly get out the kitchen and back to Joel.
“Everything all good, sweetness?” Joel asks seeing your chest and face red from your husbands advances.
“Oh it’s nothing just talking with Walker about the dryer, we might get a new one.” Walking back out the kitchen Walker points his beer at his father exclaiming.
“No need to fix this one dad, we’re just gon’ replace it.” He tells him and Joel just holds his hands up as you’re cutting him a slice of pie. Your hand raises to stop him from scarfing it down so you can add the whip cream on it. You shake the bottle and you can feel the eyes of both miller men on you as you shake a little too hard causing some to spray out. The spurts of cream landing on your chest and falling onto your hand.
The whole scene comical for your husband but absolutely stunning for Joel. You just laugh while your fingers gather the white cream off your chest and into your mouth. He’s looking up at your while he sits in the chair completely dumbfounded by the scene in front of him. He prays he doesn’t need to get anytime soon because the both of y’all will see his complete hard on for his daughter in law.
“Well dig in Joel, it’s your favorite!”
———
It’s midnight by the time you finish cleaning up. the bottle of red wine sitting empty in the recycling bin and your husband on the couch barely awake. You wake him up and lead him into the bedroom, getting him under the covers and pressing a kiss against his lips before he whispers goodnight and a quick love you. You head into the bathroom and strip yourself of your dress, bra, and panties. Then head into the guest room grabbing your camera and putting it on the tripod set up in the corner. Laying back in the bed you start slow at first. Hand slowly trailing down your chest, ghosting lightly over the swell of your breasts. Squeezing your tits together, thumbs rubbing over your hardening nipples. Your head whips around as you begin to think about your husband and how you love to sit on his face, the feeling of his mustache on your clit. Trying to work yourself up more you think about something else, maybe about how he fucked you on the back patio, him laying on the chaise while your hands hold onto the arms rests. His hips rutting into you while you hover over him.
As your hands reaches your clit like a flash of lightning there’s a brief imagine of Joel. when he was cleaning the gutters, it had been raining for weeks and it was so humid that when he came over within 10 minutes he had stripped himself of his flannel and under shirt. Standing on a ladder one leg bent the other straight as his hands were above his head, the humidity causing beads of sweat to trail down his tan broad arms and causing his gray wife beater to blacken. The whole scene made you rush back inside, heading into the kitchen to try to forget by making him fresh squeezed lemonade.
Your hand pulls away with guilt but theres a gush that comes from you, putting your hand back between your legs your fingers gather the arousal that pours out of you. Sitting up you grab your dildo from the bedside table and begin again. Tapping the head of it against your clit the teasing causing you to moan. One hand holds the dildo while the other spreads yourself back for the camera your fingers opening up into a ‘v’ as you rub the side of the dildo along your exposed cunt. Gathering your wetness so you can slip in the thick fake cock. The dildo has more girth than your husband. His dick was long but it just didn’t give you the stretch you wanted. Pushing the tip in you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you slowly push more in. A couple seconds pass and you can feel the toy bottom out inside you stretching you out perfectly while also lightly bushing against your cervix.
Slowly you begin to move it getting used to the stretch. To edge yourself on, your fingers go to your nipples tweaking and rubbing your arousal over them causing the air to hit the wetness sending a chill through you. Your hand goes for your neck lightly pressing yourself into the bed, then another flash of Joel with his thick hand wrapped around the whole bottle. it was tiny in his big ruggedly hands. There’s a loud moan that escapes your throat and your hand holding the dildo between your legs begins to thrust faster. Now you can’t help but think of him as the sound of your gushing cunt gets louder, it’s fucking pornographic. Another image of him and it’s when your husband surprised you with a hot tub and you found Joel in it when y’all came from your honeymoon. He was red with embarrassment even though he asked his son if he could use it. You remember him getting out, water dripping down his salt and pepper covered chest the heavy drops falling off his body and his swim trunks getting stuck to his big thighs, the outline of his cock was far bigger than your husbands.
A very loud moan comes from your mouth one last time and you’re looking between your legs at the arousal squirting out of you. Your head tosses back into the pillows as your hips go crazy bucking up and into the bed. Pulling the dildo out of you and winching at the emptiness you now feel. Your shame is coating the bed and running down your arm. you swing your legs that feel like noodles over the bed and head into the bathroom to wash off the thoughts of your very hot father in law.
———
There’s a bubbling nervousness in the pit of your stomach as you set up the scene. Camera set up on the tripod, the laundry room cleaned up to look like it’s never been used, and the pillow you set inside the dryer for you to bend over on. You decided to dress up for the part wearing a tight see through tank top, shorts that a too small your ass is hanging out no doubt but the real kicker is that you’re not wearing any underwear so when your bent inside the dryer they ride up causing your whole vagina to be exposed to camera view. Knee high socks and a pair of converse. it’s about 10 minutes to 12 so you decide to loosen up by smoking a little before your husband comes home for lunch.
Heading home baby see you soon!
Walker doesn’t work too far away so you finish up the joint you rolled and head back inside to your place in the dryer. You can hear his truck pull up, the engine dies and the driver door closes, your phones dings a couple more time but you don’t check it. Quickly you press record and get on your knees and head first into the dryer.
The front door opens and you begin.
“Help, I’m stuck!” You shout out before he could get out a hello causing his rushing footsteps to come past the dining room and into the laundry room. You can feel his presence behind you but what you didn’t expect is the catcall whistle that came with it.
“I got stuck in the dryer, please help me!” You plead with him wiggling your ass around, your hungry cunt wrapping itself around the crotch of your tight shorts. His hand comes down and slaps your ass hard you’re thrown off by the force he gives you but he must really like this idea since he suggested it. A deep growl comes from his throat and you can hear him getting on his knees right behind you.
“Just get me out please!” Pretending to plead with him. Walker usually talks but he’s quiet today you think nothing of it. He presses himself against you feeling the cold buckle on his belt on the back of your thighs. The roughness of his jeans as he grinds himself into you. You move forward slightly but his hands grab your hips holding you in place as he continues to grind into you.
One of your hands try to go for his belt behind you but he’s quick to slap it away. He leans back on his knees and pushes you more into the dryer ass hiked up higher. He begins to pull your shorts down to your knees and slowly trails his fingers back up your exposed legs back to your ache between your legs. “If you’re going to eat me out move the camera closer.” Breaking character for a moment you tell him and then you hear shuffling and then the sound of your tripod being picked up and set closer to the dryer.
His left hand spreading your cheeks apart the other has his finger ghosting lightly over your entrance. Suddenly there’s a harsh feeling of Walker spitting right where his finger begs to be. His middle finger pushes inside and begins twirling around inside of you. The sound of wetness and his finger pushing deep into you makes you moan out loud the echo of it escaping the dryer. Still having your cheeks spread he adds another finger this time, his ring finger. The force his hand is giving you gets faster and faster then he starts to make a come here motion with his fingers. The stretch of his two fingers alone have you white knuckling the pillow. Then his lips press a light but wet kiss to the other hole that’s getting no attention. The feeling of his mustache right on you pubic bone makes you giggle a little then his lips lower and you can feel the prickly sides of his cheeks against you. He forgot to shave this morning. You like when Walker lets his little facial hair grow out. His beard is patchy just like his fathers but you love the look. His fingers curve inside of you again and suddenly you’re about to cum.
“Fuck baby, I’m so close!” Panting out. The force from his hand gets faster and harder causing your body to shake as he begins to pound his hand into you. One of your hands goes behind you to grab his wrist. His other hand grabs your arm and holds you tightly there as your body begins to convulse violently. With your hand back behind you, you can feel your orgasm approach, well you can definitely feel it. You start squirting again the feeling of your orgasm shooting at walkers clothes. He’ll have to change before he can leave. Your arm still being held in place while his other hand begins to grab at his belt buckle. The sound of the zipper going down, then his tip slides right between your folds. Back arches from the contact you want more.
“Please fuck me.” You beg, ass wiggling around trying to find his dick so it can just slip right in but he stops you with his big hand giving each of your cheeks a few slaps. Your free hand goes behind you to stop the spanking but he’s quick to grab it and hold it with your other hand. You can feel his bare dick twitch behind you, just dying to be inside of you like a compass pointing right into your cunt. Before he pushes himself inside of you his fingers grab at the wedding ring right on your finger sliding it off and hearing the metal hit the top of the dryer. Confused but you decide to not ruin the moment with a simple question.
His fingers grab at his base to straighten his cock out and almost immediately upon penetration you know this isn’t Walker. Your head turns slightly to look behind you and you can see the recognizable green flannel that belongs to your father in law, lower part of it soaked with your arousal. His big broad hand holding both your arms back, veins poking out of his flushed red neck. His bottom lip sits between his teeth, his eyes catching you staring right at him.
“Poor little housewife, begging for her father in laws cock.” As much as you want to push him away, scream, fight, and cry for your husband your eyes just roll right back as he bottoms out inside of you. He’s the perfect size, the perfect girth, he’s perfect right inside of you and he knows it too. His free hand goes for the tripod taking the camera right off and moving it closer to his dick that’s moving slowly all the way out then slowly all the way back in.
Your mind isn’t thinking about where your husband is or how he might be standing at the door watching the whole scene happen before him instead you’re thinking about every vein you can feel on his cock, how stuffed you feel, how his balls slap right up against you, the mound of black and white pubic hair he has and how ticklish it feels grinding against you. The whole situation is fucked, how can you even go back to your husbands skinny dick? How can you ever look in your father in law in the eye after this? There’s a hard slap at your ass followed by Joel’s hand grabbing the skin at your hips.
“Such a good little slut.”
The coil in your lower stomach feels hot to the touch, your body smushed into the dryer the metal indenting into your skin. Your knees get closer together causing your pussy’s grip on Joel to get tighter around him. His hand lets go of both of yours as his thrusts get sloppier, he’s going to cum inside of you.
“Uh uh baby, you’re gon’ take this and you’re gon’ love it.” Both your hands try to push yourself out the dryer but joel just raises one of his legs to kneel beside you blocking your body from moving anymore from him. As much as you don’t want this your hand can’t help but wonder to your clit. Joel’s notices this and puts his hand over yours, your two small fingers and his two big ones rubbing all over your clit. The pressure is so much that you squirt again, your climax is grotesquely satisfying, tears begin to flow out your eyes as Joel moans very loudly, he sounds like he hasn’t had an orgasm in years and you just let the beast out the cage.
Following your release Joel gives you one last thrust practically shoving his cock inside your cervix, spraying hot cum all inside of you it feels like you’re full, so full of Joel’s cum. Body shaking around him milking him of everything he can give you. His thrusts get slower but you’re pressing back into him hard just chasing the high of being stretched full. His hand that’s still on yours slaps your clit and you’re coming again in an instant. He laughs at your desperate body as he looks down at his cock to see the white ring on cream sitting around base of him. Slowly he pulls out, his body goes limp and he lays against the washer right beside you.
Finally out the dryer you catch your breath and look at the red light blinking on your camera. You stop it the video and it saves it. A big part of you wants to delete this and curse at Joel for taking advantage of you like that, a small sluttier piece of you wants to watch it again while you suck joel clean. You just set the camera to the side, not deleting it yet. You and Joel just look each other in the eye while he begins to put his dirty dick back in his pants. he zips up and then gets up groaning like the old man he is in the process.
“You better get cleaned up, don’t want my boy to see his slut wife with his dads cum in her.” You sit on the floor at his feet just watching him grab his bag of tools and leave. Your phone dings and you wonder if it’s Walker telling you to move out cause he saw the whole scene.
Got fucking pulled over I was too excited to head home and fuck you! :(((
Just gonna head back to work :( hungry and horny see you tonight baby
While you look at those texts, one pops up sent 30 minutes ago from Joel
Hey darling I’m gonna head over and check out that dryer for ya, see you soon!
———🏠💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻
Like, comment, reblog, validate me 🫶🏻
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Slashers with an S/O who has a Dragon Dido
Note: Had this idea brewing in my brain, so I decided to write about it.
Not sponsored by Bad Dragon
Synopsis: Reader asked Slashers if they wanted to experiment with their Sex toy
Minors DNI Reader is GN
Michael myers (both 78 and RZ), Jason Voorhees, The Sinclair Twins, Brahms Heelshire, Corey Cunningham
Michael Myers OG
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When Michael found out you have a sex toy that's big and looks not human, he has questions about it
You explain what it is and how it works
It's a Dragon what now?
People make those and in the size you own?
When you ask if he can use it on you, he got a little offended
Why have that when you can have the real thing (even tho it's not that big like the toy)
With much convincing, he obligated to do some role play
You go down on your toy, your boyfriend has strap on to himself
He's enthusiastic about seeing how far you can deep thoat it before choking on it
He doesn't have to cum without holding, the toy can do that by his hand
Pounding into you seeing the bulge in your stomach produced by your dragon dildo is a site to behold
He's the Dragonoid, and you're his human mate of this role play
When it's decided you came enough, he makes your Toy cum. Pulling out your see his "seed" leave your engorged hole
Now he wants to do it again another day
Michael myers RZ
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You sick minded person you are
How does that thing even fit??
You want me to do what?? Don't we do that normally?
Michael needs some time before he's ready to put it on for some fun
When the time comes, he's looking Ok with the strap-on.
🎶Big guy with a big Dragon Dick🎶 😂
Michael is going to be careful about this, still wondering if this whole toy is going to fit
But once it starts, it's going well. You're moaning from pleasure from the thrusting he's doing.
Once you start to asking for him to cum, he doesn't obligated cause he wants to go a bit little longer
Eventually, Michael simulates the dildo cumming pushing the syringe plunger, filling you up with the "Seed"
Pulling out afterwards, the cum lube flowed out of you, giving you a head tilted from the site. Pressing your stomach to watch more flow out
Definitely want to do it again rn
Jason Voorhees
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Oh God Your Going to give Poor Boy a Heart Attack when you show him it
Jason has so many questions
How did you get it? Do people use these things? It can do what?
Jason is going to nearly a month or 2 before he puts on cockzilla
When the time comes when he's comfortable with the idea
Poor Boy is blushing from seeing the colorful dick fit on his big body
Being extremely careful with you
Putting it halfway in so he's not hurting you he starts out slow
Once the pace picks up, he pushes the whole Dildo in. Causing a bulge to form
Poor Boy came himself in his boxers from the friction
You comfort him from his accidentally mess he did. Afterwards, he went to clean up
Next time, he's going to be careful when role-playing
Bo Sinclair
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What in God's green earth did he find in the bag in the shared closet?
When you came home, he had to ask about the Elephant or in case Dragon in the room
"A Dragon Cock? I didn't know you're that Twisted in the head, Darling."
This Cocky A-hole would definitely want to jump into this role play with the new toy
Trying to fully deep throat with it, nearly hurl from the gaging
Taking you behind with this bad boy
"That's right, take it, darling."
He makes you cum so much your overwhelmed
Releasing the "cum" from the syringe into you
He may want to get peg by that now to spicy up your relationship
Vincent Sinclair
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Oh my God, what's in the Box??!!
Vincent is definitely a Dragon fan, and the fact you gotten a Dragon Dildo he's definitely red under his mask cause he wants to try it
Definitely work you up before pushing it in
Thursting the whole 8 inches of this Dragon Dick and going to town with you
Vincent was having fun watching you squirm around this big fake cock as he fucks you
Thinking it's enough for this, he released the "cum" into your hole before pulling out
Just watching the "seed" drip down from the expanded hole just makes him want to do it again
Could you do it to him another day?
Brahms Heelshire
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What on earth are you using??
His eyes are wide behind that mask, seeing the large thing you're riding
Next time, his stinky wall ass comes out he's going to ask about what you have. First, he's going to be scolded for being a Pervert for watching you, then second, you're going to have to explain what it id
"Aren't Dragons supposed to be slayed, not something in the bedroom?"
You explain that people get these types of toys of different types for pleasure
You asked if he would like to use it on you if he's comfortable about it
The next night, he was lying on the bed strapped up, woty the big dicky pushing the plunger of the syringe some "cum" oozed out of the tip spooking him
You started out on giving some oral play on toy, giving your partner a subductive look while he just watched with red in his cheeks for the site
You started to ride on your dragon dildo while he watches you bounce on your toy.
After a while, he was pounding from behind before releasing the "cum" into you, it leaked from in between your hole and cock dripped onto the sheets
Brahms would like to do this again another time
Corey Cunningham (He's Adorable Fight Me! And this is a what if Corey became a Hero in Halloween Ends)
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Oh poor baby saw the box on the counter and had a peek before turning away with an embarrassment on his face
You had to calm him down before explaining what you have and explain that people are getting to spice up. Corey was sheltered by his mother about the subject of Sex and toys
Corey would need a confidence boost before he decides to do the hanky panky with you
After becoming comfortable about having sex with you and about the "you know what" that's in your closet atm
Corey strapped up with the 9 inch Gradient Dragon Dick with the tube leading to a syringe full halfway of the "cum"
Start out slow, not putting it in fully being careful with you
Getting more into it and started to pick up the pace. Corey started to pound into you harder, having the bulge poking up from the dildo
Telling Corey to cum into you which he muched obligated, pushing all of the "cum" from the syringe into you
Would definitely want to it again another day
=======================
That's all
Again I'm Not Sponsored by Bad Dragon
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darkcircles4lyfe · 4 months
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Behind the locked door
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In honor of Izuku’s mask disintegrating into rubble, I think it’s finally time for me to really dig deep into his character. I’ve been keeping this one in my back pocket for a while. Amid all the talk about Izuku’s fading narration, the “control your heart” subplot, I’ve been trying to find the words to articulate how I know exactly where this is going, at least on a certain level. Most recently, I read this meta from pika who brings up how the word “control” alone can be misconstrued (by us). And then I thought about how a while back I made a similar point, although I said Izuku was the one who got it wrong. At that time, I was holding back a huge piece of evidence because it was external to the story and I wasn’t sure it would be received well. As a result, my argument fell a little flat. Well, now—after 411, right before leaks for 412—it might be my last chance to play this card.
So about that external evidence. I struggle to bring it up because it’s gonna sound an awful lot like I’m projecting onto Izuku if I don’t do it justice. But… I look at the way his storyline has been going lately and I see a pattern emerging that I’m very familiar with. Fortunately, I don’t have to dump a bunch of personal junk on you in order to illustrate this pattern, because a certain personality typing system already has it all figured out: the Enneagram.
Now, hang on. I’m not one to put people in boxes. My trans ass? I managed to get a different result every time I retook the P0ttermore quiz. MBTI, zodiacs—not my thing. But the Enneagram comes the closest I’ve ever seen to covering all the bases and revealing actually meaningful insight, at least for myself. On top of that, I find it extremely useful for fleshing out fictional characters, hence this post will be taking advantage of that.
For those who aren’t familiar with it, here’s a quick overview: The Enneagram consists of 9 individual personality types, each arranged carefully in a sequential, circular manner. They are also simply named 1 through 9. While this might seem kinda basic, there is actually a surprising amount of nuance and fluidity involved. Typing is done largely through personal introspection (you don’t really have to take a test). Adjacent numbers share some core themes with each other, and according to a web of arrows between them, one type can take on either positive or negative traits associated with other types depending on how emotionally ‘healthy’ they are, causing a lengthy spectrum of different ways each type can manifest. That part gets kinda complicated to explain here, so for more info, the Enneagram Institute website is a decent place to start. I also highly recommend the Enneagram album by Sleeping At Last (and if you really want to dedicate some time, the accompanying podcast) to really get inside the heads of the types on a deeper level.
My interest in applying the Enneagram to Izuku comes from observing how differently one can interpret his character based on whether you read him as a 2 or a 9. And even though no one uses this language to talk about him, the distinction accounts for a bunch of different rifts in the fandom: whether you appreciate bkdk’s relationship, whether you can acknowledge Izuku’s flaws and weaknesses, the severity of his vigilante/rogue phase, and most importantly the gravity of his concealed heart, his rage, and what it all means—what he needs in order to grow and triumph.
Discussion of Enneagram types in the fandom is pretty scarce, but where it exists, I have only seen him labeled as a 2. Type 9 and type 2 can be similar at a glance in a lot of ways (actually, 9s can be mistaken for any type because they are like all of them combined). It’s easy to see Izuku as a 2 because he is the helping hero archetype. He puts others’ needs above his own and he is always ready and eager to help. If you listen to Sleeping At Last’s song for 2, you’ll notice that it’s all about care and noble sacrifice with the underlying theme of neglecting or even harming oneself: “I just want to build you up, until your good as new, and maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too.” Sounds pretty obvious, right? Well, here’s the thing. You really get to know what your type is by how it hits you where it hurts, so I like to focus on each type’s basic fear and basic desire, first and foremost, as a tell. A 2′s basic fear is of being worthless and unloved. Consequently, their most basic desire is to be loved. And 2s have been taught through their negative experiences that love is conditional, something they have to earn from others. They need to be needed. So let’s say you think Izuku is a 2. This means you consider his heroic, self-sacrificing tendencies to be a result of his growing up quirkless and being told he is worthless and powerless because of it. Through this lens, he is trying to prove himself to the world by being useful. Along these lines, you may also assume he is trying to prove himself to Katsuki. Taking this train of thought even further, you may interpret Izuku’s relationship with Katsuki as an obsession of his, where he is either blind to Katsuki’s more negative traits in favor of gaining his love and praise, or else bitterly determined to prove him wrong. This is how a 2 might behave in an unhealthy relationship with an 8, which, yes, I do think Katsuki is an 8. That’s a tangent for another time, though.
But does Izuku ever “need to be needed?” It’s worth noting that while 2s’ search for validation might seem insincere, it is actually motivated by a deep, heartbreaking insecurity. They think they don’t even deserve love unless they are useful to someone, so they do everything they can to be worthy. Does Izuku show signs of this motivation?
If I stop to think about it, I can’t exactly see this in Izuku’s character. Yeah, his dream is to be a hero, and in his childhood, he was denied that dream. However I think we need to take a step back from that for a second if we want to dig deep. I mean, a lot of the other characters also behave heroically, act selflessly, and strive to help. Does that mean all of them are 2s as well? Of course not. So let’s instead turn to observe how Izuku acts with his loved ones, friends, and peers in other/adjacent contexts:
Inko: He is committed to protecting his mother from fearing for his safety. He wants to be good enough to not cause her to worry, rather than good enough to make her proud or make her love him. Idk about his father but at this point I think it’s safe to assume he is deeply unimportant.
All Might: I would describe their relationship as one of mutual responsibility. Izuku feels a responsibility to uphold All Might’s legacy, All Might feels a responsibility to teach him well. Because of this mutuality, I don’t think it quite makes sense to say Izuku deliberately seeks approval for its own sake. You know what I mean? They may be a mentor and a pupil but in practice they are almost more like co-conspirators. They don’t really have a power dynamic going on.
Shouto, Tenya, other friends: Izuku seems to take an interest in what makes his friends tick, and he sets himself aside in order to both analytically and intuitively determine what’s wrong and how to solve it. Examples include his fight against Shouto in the sports festival, and his stubborn concern for Tenya’s reaction to his brother’s forced retirement. He will put himself in the line of fire specifically when confronted with another person’s inner demons. This is not a labor that is asked of professional heroes, it’s just who Izuku is. You can also extend this observation to how he sees through Tomura to Tenko, but I’ll get to that later. Basically, while 2s seek to help in all kinds of ways, a 9’s strategy is always centered on the realm of the mind.
Kota: Adjacent to the paragraph above, before Izuku literally gets into a position where he needs to save Kota, he becomes interested in the boy’s point of view out of genuine curiosity. He doesn’t go “oh no, this kid doesn’t like heroes, I better get him to like heroes.” Instead he seeks out information as to why he thinks that way, and patiently listens. He’s sorry about what happened to Kota, and he understands. Twice (ch 71 and 72), he recognizes the fact that everyone has their own point of view on quirks, and he can’t really do anything about that.
Mirio: This might be one of the most telling examples. Mirio is the platonic ideal of an All Might successor. He’s “perfect.” He even looks the part. While this initially makes Izuku uncomfortable, he doesn’t become insecure and defensive over it. On the contrary, he easily comes to the conclusion that actually, Mirio should have One for All. Just like that (ch 172). If Mirio hadn’t dismissed the “hypothetical,” he probably would have gone through with giving it to him. That’s not how a 2 would respond. A 2 would double down and aim to be better than Mirio by trying to establish some relationship of need, fueled by the insecurity. Their shared subplot with Eri would have looked pretty different, I think.
Katsuki: I’ve mentioned before that I believe their rivalry only exists because Katsuki put it there. First of all, we can see that after the sludge villain incident, Izuku weirdly takes Katsuki’s dismissal of Izuku’s help as practical advice. Like, “oh yeah, I guess what I did was pretty stupid and dangerous, and I’m not cut out for this hero stuff. Now I can move on and find a realistic career.” Hello?? He accepted that so easily. So Izuku clearly isn’t motivated by a desire to prove himself to Katsuki. Even when he proclaims he’s going to surpass him, it’s like he’s happily mimicking Katsuki, not reacting based on insecurity or pride. Izuku is content to meet Katsuki wherever he is, and he’s satisfied with whatever kind of relationship they are able to have, including a rivalry, so he isn’t vying for his affection either. We can observe this when he gives up the role of reaching out a hand to save Katsuki to Kirishima, and also when he thinks about how “blessed” he is to even have a normal conversation with Katsuki. He doesn’t push things. It’s also stated in Deku vs. Kacchan 2 that Izuku doesn’t excuse or overlook Katsuki’s “bad side” but still admires him for his other traits. This is not at all characteristic of a toxic 2x8 relationship.
When 2s are at their very worst or pushed into unhealthy situations, they tend to become more needy and self-centered, even downright manipulative. But at Izuku’s worst, when he went rogue, he pushed everyone away to avoid being a burden. When the refugees at UA tried to prevent him from returning, he was like, “you’re right” and would have turned back immediately if not for his friends, loved ones, and other people who care about him telling him it was all okay. Meanwhile, Katsuki, in true 8 fashion, was pissed off at being rejected and having to deal with Izuku’s stubborn and evasive side (oh yeah, have I mentioned 9s are actually stubborn as hell?), but he made sure to establish that they are (he is) here to step in when Izuku can’t handle things by himself. Katsuki even opened up and admitted to his own weaknesses to show why mutual support is so important. Tbh, a lot of the above can be construed as just super healthy type 2 behavior, but not this. The way Izuku acts at his lowest, and his dynamic with Katsuki? Totally different. Dead giveaway for a 9.
Let’s get into the type 9 itself in more detail to show how it applies to Izuku more deeply��seriously, it’s beat for beat. One of the key differences is, while 2s seek validation, 9s are actually resigned to the belief that they aren’t important. Similar to 2s, a 9′s basic fear is of separation, but their basic desire is actually just peace or harmony rather than love. Notice how these motivations are just like a 2’s, except they have the “self” part taken out. With that in mind, they “achieve” their basic desire through selflessness in and of itself, without the need for recognition. That’s not to say that 9s are better than 2s. In fact, a 9 can be worse, in a way. If unhealthy, they will seek peace at almost any cost to themselves. In other words, they can be more self-destructive while still under the impression that they are doing just fine. “Peace” may refer to the expression of empathy, fulfilling the needs of others, sheltering someone, or mediating a fight—but also to repressing their own opinions and needs, not “rocking the boat,” ignoring negative emotions, or becoming a vessel for someone else to vent to.
What about inner peace? 9s value serenity, and thus they have a complicated relationship with the most tumultuous of emotions: anger. On the surface, 9s look like the type that is extremely slow to anger and highly tolerant. However, as much as they would like to believe this about themselves too, deep down, 9s are afraid of what might happen if they lose control. My phrase for it is this: I feel like a bottled tornado. Personally, I also think of anger as a basic desire to make others feel your pain—not necessarily sadistically, but in an effort to be known, to be understood. The difficult thing to grasp, especially for a 9, is that this is NOT inherently a bad thing. It isn’t wrong to seek sympathy. On the contrary, it is harmful to tell yourself that getting angry is wrong, because it’s like telling yourself that your pain is wrong, your pain doesn’t matter.
The problem is it doesn’t stop there. A 9, in shutting down their anger, ends up with such a low opinion of their own heart, their other emotions dull along with it. They cry less, laugh less, love less. It’s often said that they “fall asleep” to themselves. It all starts with anger. It’s interesting to note how different this whole mindset is from toxic masculinity—where men only feel allowed/able to express emotions through anger. This is sorta like the opposite. Anger becomes the dam rather than the river. For Izuku, I want us to consider that his suppression of anger carries with it the implication that he is hiding other things, too. It’s a given. There’s a whole sea of feelings out there, and we can only see the waves hitting the shore. This brings me to the whole “control your heart” thing. I do think it is worth mentioning that Banjou didn’t just tell Izuku to exercise control. He also told him that his anger could be useful if it is harnessed. With this added context, “control” here means “to master.” And Izuku seemed to grasp this concept… sorta. I think that if Izuku is like a 9, we can assume he has trouble understanding how anger could be a worthy source of strength. His emotions in relation to Katsuki feel more like a weakness to him, a character flaw in a hero, who is supposed to be detached and selfless. But he’s trying to understand, even though he’s afraid of it. He essentially applied the same strategy he used for mastering OFA itself: incremental strength training. Which, okay. Take a moment to absorb how odd that is, in relation to emotions, specifically. Does one learn to cry incrementally? Does one learn to use anger by bottling a fucking tornado?? Like, what, you think you’re gonna be able to let out juuust the right amount of air to avoid an explosion??? No, man… if you want to be the master of your emotions you have to be willing to sit with them. Confront them. Listen to them. Take them in completely and accept them as a part of yourself.
For someone like Izuku, though, it is very difficult to imagine how this is even possible. Tomura, as with every villain, can be used to reflect his hero counterpart’s greatest fear about himself. Tomura literally touches everyone and everything with his rage, and as a physical manifestation of that desire to pass his own pain onto others, destruction radiates from his fingertips. Thus, losing control in this manner must be Izuku’s worst nightmare, as if he would be completely unable to stop the collateral damage like an infinite line of dominoes. But his anger is not something he can overcome, as such.
An overarching theme in this heroes vs. villains conflict is that the villains are not merely obstacles to be overcome. Just think back to Himiko’s bitter rejection of the heroic sense of superiority. She demanded not to be pitied, condescended to, or lied to. Likewise, the answer cannot be that Izuku needs to restrain himself where Tomura doesn’t. What purpose would it serve to show that Izuku is better than him? Certainly not saving Tomura. If this was a battle against AFO, it might have been a different story. In that case, Izuku would have to overcome his emotional manipulation tactics. Tomura, on the other hand, is not so strategic. With his strangely childlike tendencies, he must relish making Izuku mad because it brings them closer to the same wavelength. It’s his own twisted way or seeking sympathy, or at least, the closest thing to sympathy he can get anymore, because he believes he is beyond saving. With that in mind, Izuku isn’t going to get anywhere unless he rises to meet him. Izuku has to match Tomura’s hatred with equally strong emotions of his own, whatever they may be, or else face the loss of OFA (as established in 305). This is not an easy thing to ask of a 9, once they have started to pull the blood from their extremities, become cold and numb. Bringing back circulation is painful and makes the skin crawl.
In case you’re worried about the focus on anger here, I want to reiterate that concealed anger in a 9 is just one sign of so much more. Back when everyone started fretting about Izuku’s habit of self-sacrifice, which would have been the only thing we need to worry about if he were a 2, I was freaking out because Izuku was also starting to look like a person who has too many secrets. You don’t even have to acknowledge the possibility that he lied about what triggered blackwhip. It’s written all over his face all the time these days. It’s especially noticeable when you contrast him with Katsuki after all his own growth. Katsuki confides in people. He acknowledges his weaknesses. He enjoys being himself. He asserts his place. He thinks about Izuku all the damn time and now he even lets himself be soft about it. All this warmth while Izuku is distant, muted, and blank. I know all too well what this state of mind is like. Man, I hate secrets. You get to the point where you don’t know how to talk about even the simplest most inconsequential shit. And the bigger things? They’re like a growing snowball of words in your throat that cannot possibly fit out of your mouth. The “easiest” way to cope is to simply fade into the rhythm of life. Go with the flow.
Since 9s have a natural curiosity about the interiority of other people, they may choose to focus on that in order to divert their own attention away from themselves. Taken to the extreme, they will lose track of their sense of self. Like I said, you can see Izuku doing this as he fights, analyzing the psyche of his opponent, and his match against Shouto in the sports festival was a fantastic early example. They became friends because of how observant Izuku is. His emotional intelligence and intuition are very strong, but gradually, as he has taken on greater responsibilities and experienced more trauma, he has gotten worse at applying these skills to himself. You know, we go on and on about how his narration has been reduced to nearly nothing, and it’s not just an absence of introspection, it’s an absence of self. It creates a lack of ownership over the narrative—what should be his narrative.
Right now, he’s focusing on trying to see Tomura as a person, figuring him out. I think it would be really satisfyingly ironic if in the process, he ends up uncovering insights about himself instead. It’s about time we learn what Izuku’s secrets are. I don’t actually think that Izuku mastering anger will constitute the emotion that is strong enough to keep Tomura from taking OFA. Moreover, he can’t expect to reach Tomura’s core, Tenko, unless he exposes his own. Rather, anger is the conduit for Izuku to unlock something else. Think of the way he described how Katsuki is his image of victory. The feeling manifests when he asserts a stronger sense of self (the urge to win) and he becomes more free with his words. I have no doubt that Tomura has the power to make unfiltered honesty spill out of him. He knows how to bring out his selfish needs, his pain, his pressure points, his fears, his insecurities. Hell, maybe Mt. Fuji erupting is a metaphor. I want to see Izuku explode while Tomura watches with mad glee. But then I want Izuku to Realize Things such that it finally sets him free. Then, instead of Tomura witnessing yet another person he touches fall apart, he gets to see someone become whole.
"I let the scale tip, feel all of it. It's uncomfortable but right. And we were born to try to see each other through. To know and love ourselves and others well is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do." --Sleeping At Last, 'Nine'
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eggtartz · 6 months
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✧ 21th October ✧
Ran Haitani // Girth Of An Object (f! girlfriend reader)
kinktober masterlist
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warnings : mentions of sex toys, baton play, penetration with baton, slight aftercare, dirty talk
you rummaged through ran's closet because twice a month, you'd agreed to have a cleaning day in the apartment. you opened up the last dusty box as ran dusted the whole place and helping throwing away the trash. "found anything, babe? some memories from the past perhaps?" his voice was muffled as he adjusted the mask over his mouth.
"there's this one box, i think it's your tenjiku stuff" you said, sweating behind your mask. "oh? oh shit, it is" you could hear the smile in his voice as he looked through it. "oh babe, look. it's me and rin! and kakucho! look, mochi's hair looks ridiculous!" he cackled.
"said someone who had braids like annabelle" you snickered as he glared. "shut up, it was cool. i miss my long hair" he ruffled his currently lilac hair. you smiled as you went through more of his things "woah ran! is this your baton? you used to use this?" ran smirked "oh babe.. you don't know my history with this baby"
he took the piece of metal, still clean and not rusty. it had a black and white stripes, a small R.H. carving on the handle. you smiled at the look of the weapon "you know what that oddly looks like?"
"what?"
"my dildo"
ran spat out his spit. "what the hell babe, you horny?" he raised his eyebrow "no! tell me it doesn't look the same" you cackled, reached over your drawer and pulled your pink dildo, the one ran bought for your anniversary. he has done a custom piece, a R.H carving on the tip. "tell me it's not the same!" you compared the objects side to side. "well, the baton has a wide girth i think. wanna test it out?"
again, it was cleaning day so you two were a sweaty mess as you ended up making out on top of each other on the couch. since the mattress is getting dried under the sun. you made small whimpers as ran nudged the head of the baton right at your pussy lips. "let's see.. we're gonna start slow alright, sweetheart? or you're too greedy for that?" he purred againts your ear. "just fuck me with it, ran" you hissed, eyes pleading.
"i knew you were such a greedy one" he chuckled, playing with your clit so you'd be stimulated enough for the metal to pierce through your walls. "that's it, take it in. imagine, it's my cock." he cooed. "you're doing so well, keep it up sweetheart" he gave slight slaps to your oversensitive clit making you writhe under him.
his baton was almost half inside you yet you felt like being split in half. the width of the baton stretched you sooo deliciously, you groaned at the lack of movement since ran's moving so slow. "hurry, ran.. need it inside me, please" you raised your hip, rolling it for any fraction. "oh shit, look at that" ran spat on your pussy "it's so pretty, stuffed and wet" he cooed, one hand caressing your inner thighs. your cunt gushed around the foreign object when ran finally picked up his pace, using the baton to thrust inside.
"ah! oh, it's so much better than the dildo!" you smiled drunkenly as ran smirked "does it now? what a freaky sweet thing you are" he caressed your clit, flicking it softly and gently. he often spat on your pussy to make sure it's lubricated enough despite not needing so since your slick is coating the baton very well.
"ran! oh, i can feel it.." you moaned with a high pitched voice "feel it where? in your tummy? your insides?" he bought himself down to have one tit in his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue. you grabbed his hair, as you felt a wave of intense stimulation coming. your pussy convulsed as you came undone, thighs shaking with pleasure. "there we go. you did good" he mumbled, taking your other tit while soothing your clit in circles, taking out the baton slowly from your pussy.
he bought the baton to your mouth as you licked it, tasting yourself as you traced your tongue to clean up your own mess. "there we go, still think this one is better than the dildo?" he raised his eyebrow. "yeah.. much better than the dildo" you smiled.
"but it can't beat this one, can it?" he patted his crotch, a bulge already apparent behind his sweatpants. "oh no, this one is the best" you purred, slowly rubbing him. it's safe to say that on the cleaning day, you two did nothing done.
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