#the world is fucked. why help fuck it even more. what is the point of that.
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How Relationships With Them Would Be: Pt 3
Let's finish this off because this post series has taken a long time to finish.
(*sigh* never mind. This will be in 2 parts because it's longer than I thought it'd be.)
Cater:
I mean.... he might be ok? But he seems to have a lot of issues going on with himself, so I'm unsure if he'd even be ready for a relationship. It would probably be a pretty stable relationship, though. Although, if you're one of those "I need silence or I will go fucking insane." people, probably won't work out.
MC: *trying to zone out because they need it*
Cater: MC! YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED!
MC: *still trying to enjoy the silence*
Cater: MC! COME ON COME ON!
MC: Can I have some peace for a moment?
Cater: But you'll miss it if you don't come!
Probably a pretty good boyfriend for certain personalities.
Ace:
Fuck no. Have you not read the wiki thing where it says he literally ghosted his gf? I get that was in middle school, but this mans literally runs from commitment and will probably bully you because he thinks it's teasing.
Ace: Seriously? That's the grade you got?
MC: I tried my hardest! I'm not from this world, remember?!
Ace: But Grim got a better grade than you. Grim! How dumb do you have to be?
MC: *either raging or crying*
(I may have based this off a fic I read)
I hope you're good at teasing his back, otherwise y'all will never get along.
Deuce:
Maybe another good one? He seems to have gotten better with his anger, so that's something. He probably wouldn't leech off of you too much. I think his only problem is that he might not see the relationship as an actual relationship, y'know? He might just treat it like a normal friendship or something. Maybe once he's graduated, he'd be better with knowing how to deal with a relationship, but for now? Not so much. He might also honestly forget y'all are in a relationship. (this might just be a headcannon? Idk)
MC: We should give each other pet names!
Deuce: Why?
MC: Cause we're dating!
Deuce: *pauses to load* ....OH!.... Right.... yeah.... we are.
But honestly? Probably a pretty good boyfriend.
Jack:
Ok, now we're just getting good boyfriend material, wtf? But seriously, Jack is a family man, and he's good at keeping at his goals. He'd be perfect at keeping his significant other on track and keep them from procrastinating. He'd probably also help them keep in shape. I feel like his only flaw is he tends to either overestimate people's abilities or try to push his views onto others a little too much.
Jack: You have to keep going or else you'll get used to stopping right before you get the exercise you need!
MC: *literally sweating through their clothes and pretty much fucking dying* I NEED A BREAK!
Jack: Just keep going! It's fine!
As long as you're an overachiever and you're ok with your limits being pushed, I'd say he's good bf material.
It's been a while, so I hope I still made this ok. There were a lot more good boyfriends than I thought there'd be.
Oh well. I'll get the next part out at some point.
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland x reader
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Y’know what should be a thing?
Percy Jackson Duke of Edinburgh Awards
For the Americans:
The DofE award is a thing you can do at secondary school where they make you spend six months helping out in the community, and at the end you have to go on a two-day long orienteering expedition where you get thoroughly lost and soaking wet for a whole weekend and it’s miserable. You pay £150 for a certificate and some blisters. I did mine many many years ago, and it’s one of my biggest regrets. I swear, I had never wanted to die more than I did that weekend.
But if someone had told me that my expedition was actually a quest to save the world? That, no, we weren’t calling our supervisors for help because we got lost AGAIN, we were sending an Iris Message back to Camp? That the reason why it’s raining is because of angry gods fighting in the sky not because we live in fucking Britain and therefore it must be miserable weather in JULY? That we’re not just six losers lugging heavy backpacks around Somerset, but we’re actually lost in the woods somewhere in New Jersey and we’re never gonna make it to LA?!
I would have fucking ATE THAT SHIT UP!! (Even though at that point I hadn’t even read PJO).
Wouldn’t it be cool if we could have paid actors dressed as monsters to jump out at us and fight? Wouldn’t it be cool if, once we got back, they gave us some sort of trinket and said “congrats! You found the lightning bolt, you saved the world!”?
I feel robbed of this experience now.
#percy jackson#percy jackson fandom#pjo fandom#pjo#pjo hoo toa#pjo incorrect quotes#dofe#duke of edinburgh#percy jackson musical#tlt musical#tlt#the lightning theif musical#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians#the sea of monsters#percy jackson heroes of olympus#heros of olympus#the heroes of olympus
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How do I explain the ways in which the bill origins fic 'A Romance of Many Dimensions' by haley3 rewired my brain without needing to give paragraphs upon paragraphs of context. The fic is something like 200,000 words long. Almost every single good moment calls back to things that are set up earlier in the fic
#godsrambles#girl help 'the colors in our universe are the same as the ones in his home dimension because our universe is made out of a piece of bill'#makes NO sense without adding way more context#not to speak of 'bill is obsessed with ford because he can Feel the same cosmic thread connecting them as the one that drew him towards-#-meeting his henchmaniacs which makes him convinced against all odds that ford is gonna join him'#and the long beginning is set in flatland. its what finally got me to read the book flatland#and now I will literally think to myself 'its not that i Have to do x or y tasks. i GET to do x or y tasks isnt that great'#'i get to live in a physical form that experiences so many vivid thoughts and sensations while on bills favorite planet in the multiverse'#and i will be like 'why should i drag my feet about learning this or doing that. bill was literally trapped in a 2d world-'#'and KILLED to be able to experience a life as 3d and colorful as the one im in'#'and just like bill was so desperate to learn and see and do Everything that the axolotl gave him a ton of power so he could do that.'#'i Also want to learn and do and see everything i possibly can. and i literally HAVE the chance to do that'#'so i'd better start actually Trying to do and see and learn everything i can'#and then i brush my teeth slightly more often or whatever#fucking unhinged and ridiculous way of getting myself to do tasks#the events of this fic arent even my headcanon for bills powers and backstory. i just think its neat!#and now my brain has been permanently rewired by a got dam fan fic.#anyways sorry for all the spoilers but i mean. i doubt many folks would decide to read a fic that long without being intrigued by spoilers#most frustrating thing is that the hard hitting spoilers SEEM understandable without context.#but i promise there is a lot of context missing that makes it make sense why they are good plot points and not just weird random happenings#edit: its 200000 words not 600000. how did I misread that
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On Hope
Today's meta, brought to you by a tumblr post:
In case of tl;dr or tumblr not opening links, it boils down to: Hope is a skill you work, not something inherent. I'd like to add (as some people in the tags have, that so is optimism and faith). I personally would tag on kindness as well.
All these traits are seen as soft and naive, but to actually use them and nurture them properly, it takes time and an active involvement. You're not just hopeful, especially in these times. You have to work at it, and it's hard. You're not just kind because you are, you have to actively work to be kind, moreso when the world says you shouldn't.
How does this tie to Teen Wolf?
Obviously, it comes down to Scott.
Many, many multiple complaints about Scott being a boring character or a perfect character or an undeveloped character come from the fact that people (incorrectly) believe that Scott has no flaws. Scott's perfect, they say! He's so boring and Neurotypical! (which is another can of worms to open another day)
Perfection is not possible, much less for a teenage character. We have seen Scott fuck up, multiple times, for several different reasons, most coming down to the fact he's an inexperienced teenage boy thrust into a situation he never wanted to be in the first place. He's afraid, he's experiencing things no one could have braced him for, and further affected by the fact that no one explained anything after the fact either.
Despite being actively tormented by several adults (and some teenagers, lookin' at you, Matt and Jackson), Scott doesn't stop being, at his core, kind. He's hopeful! He has HOPE that Jackson can be cured from the Kanima situation in s2, he has HOPE that they can save Stiles from the Nogitsune in s3B.
Out of everyone in Teen Wolf, given the release date and the sentiment surrounding the world when it first came out, I would have not been surprised if Scott had gone from a bright hopeful kid to a cynical, bitter ~adult~, because that was expected. Cynicism was The Thing, the corruption of the innocence of youth or whatever would have fit well, I'm sure, in this niche MTV was trying to carve out.
That's what made Scott so extraordinary, I think. Despite the punches, despite ever reason he had to be bitter and mean and cruel because the world WAS bitter and mean and cruel to him, Scott continued being good. He had hope for people, and gave countless opportunities that would not have been afforded to him by others, because Scott was able to look at things as they were, and hope for something better.
Did he make mistakes along the way? Sure, as a kid then young adult navigating a whole new world that actively wanted him dead, he made mistakes. But even thinking about his choices now, how painfully difficult must it have been for Scott to look at all these people who hurt him, who hurt his friends and his family and his community, and still look for good? To offer kindness to strangers and enemies alike, to ease their pain and give people who were in the same position he was the opportunity to say 'I can't. This isn't for me.'
How many times did Scott have to fight the pain and injustice and anger that would be more than deserved, and swallowed it down because pain and anger and violence are easy! It's an easy reaction and an easy excuse, and likely people (in show) wouldn't have really blamed him because no one ever blamed Stiles for being angry and lashing out because that's what people /do/.
But Scott didn't. He swallowed all of that (a monumental effort on its own) and he returned kindness. He returned hope and optimism and faith that I know he didn't really feel, but what he really felt doesn't affect his actions because his actions speak much louder.
For a teenager with suicidal ideation, who has been constantly beat down by a life he never chose? Scott has tremendous self control, and an enormous capacity for kindness in his heart. It would have been so easy to make him an asshole, we've seen assholes countless of times in media. But strength of character in the face of all that, to say no to the cycle of violence? That is something that is not innate. Scott had to absolutely fight for that every day, and that alone is so endlessly fascinating.
Scott may be boring if all you look at is the surface, but all it says is that you've felt the struggle of being kind in a world that wants you to be cruel.
#teen wolf#scott mccall#pro scott mccall#scott mccall defense squad#kindness is hard#hope is hard#im projecting again but i was the cynical kid#the world sucks and then you die and what's the point kind of cynicism and that shit is damaging as fuck yo#it took a lot of effort to move away from that#including therapy and meds and help from the people around me and a lot of soul searching and its a struggle every damn day#but i will hold onto that and i will be kind and i will have hope even if it feels like it burns because its worth it#the world is filled with so many assholes already i refuse to be part of the problem#that's why scott matters so much to me#dark scott would have been more interesting to the same assholes who love to watch that hope die out because they love to drag people down#but its so much harder to see that and put good out in the world than it is to shit on everything like everyone else#even if its just a drop in a bucket#it means something to someone#teen wolf meta
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i left her house and party without telling her how i feel or attempting to make a move i feel like the stupidest motherfucker alive
#like. that was my chance. it was THE chance. why am i such a fucking coward#its not like i didnt want to but i couldnt find the way thwre was too many peoñle and i wanted it to be private#so we LEFT for WALK on her NEIGHBOURHOOD that was MY CHANCE. we went to the little park with the swings i REALLY WAS ABOUT TO SAY STH#WHEN ONE OF THE GUYS AT THE PARTY AND HER COUSIN ARRIVED B#TO PICK US UP BY CAR BC SHE HAD TO BLOW THE CANDLES#(<- the party was her birthday cellebration)#like really idk how i am a. so unlucky and b. such a pussy#i think i shouldve been a bit more drunk to have told her right away.but i Was working my way through it to tell her it was just hard yknow#im scared ill ruin things if she rejects me. and i feel like she wants to be with me sometimes and that she likes me.#but other times i feel like im just being insane and she will simply reject me#i think her cousin noticed i like her though. (i dont think this is too hard to notice anyway) maybe thatll help? idk.#half the world thinks we are together and i have to wonder why arent we?i like her n i think she likes me (or at least she has in the past)#so whats stopping us? the fact we r in a band together and want a future on that might be something. she has also told my friend she values#the friendship too much or sth like that (my friend doesnt remember very well) but that then means she does like me! but also shell reject#me possibly! or will she? who knows?!!#anyway i think it wouldnt be that bug of a problem anyway for the band if we are mature about it. even it it doesnt work and we decide its#better as friends in a future. i dont think anything she does or i do will be as bad as 'point of no return bad'.#i believe in us. and i feel like the sappiest mf alive too#but see if youve read this far i think you might understand why im such a coward and so scared of telling her i like her#but i was so close of just bljrting it out or kissing her. i did kiss a bit her neck.... sorry lol. but nothing too um .sexual? it was like#peck. but you ask and how did that happen? well see. we were sleeping together. like on top of each other hugging. my face was on her#collarbone. so i was like there. but i dont think she tought much of it sometimes we kiss each others cheeks or whatever and its just like#or maybe she did. there were pther people on the room anyway so ot was like . weird as well bc of that#idk ots just a very ambiguous zone in which i will die forever if i dont work up some courage#this posts always turn onto rants but i dont speak much about her with my friends unless they ask +im a bit drunk.it embarrasses me greatly#spikeposting#loveposting
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mental health just straight up plummeting
#toy txt post#everyday the smallest things have me spiralling into such stupid despair#constantly fighting myself cos every single thing has me wanting to throw up my hands and walk the fuck off bc theres bo point#whats the fucking point!! just despair and exhaustion and burned the fuck out and gnashing at the fucking walls and then spiralling into#a stupid little self pity self hate spiral cos im just a weak stupid little baby who cant handle the real world. plenty of ppl have it so#much worse and havent given up yet so whats my fucking problem? which is so stupid. but i cant logic my way out of this one#so i am simply sitting here feeling so god damn bad#and i dont even really have. a good reason for it. idk. like i dont have a lot of concrete quantifiable reasons i can present about why#i am so goddamn miserable at my job. im just. going insane i need out im performing badly its not worth it theres no fucking point#every day im fighting the urge to just fucking walk off over the stupidest tiniest things that are definitely not worth that kind of#reaction. like yea maybe i do need like mental health meds or smth but i also know. i need out of this fucking. job. but i dont know#like. idk its like my options are just kore of this same stupid bullshit or retail/food service. and like. shout out to retail and food#service. i fucking could not i fucking cannot. but like im reaching that point here too. everything hurts all the time with no reprieve and#all my options just feel like its gonna be ! even more stupid repetitive motions that wont help! like idk! idk what to do. i just#wanna read about stupid little fucking worms and fish but doing that professionally im not sure im up to it and#between me and that career path is thousands of dollars and homework. so#now im the rat instead now im the rat instead now im the rat instead now im the rat instead#trying so hard not to display idk red flag behavior but im Going Insane. i should just start crying at work. why bother hiding it. whats the#point#vent#ig#i should go eat. and waste the rest of my stupid fucking night playing zelda trying to soothe my brain enough to function except im not#functjoning cos then itll be 5am again and ill have done nothing but play zelda and be up too late and go to bed and not get enough sleep#and be a little to a lot late and be miserable and the cycle just fucking never ends#not enough fucking podcasts about worms out there for this#i opened several academic papers on tongue eating isopods to cope and barely read them bc i cant do that at work it takes too long and i get#lost and my productivity is already in the shit and i need to stop being on my phone and i know that but like also if i dont fucking#distract my stupid fucking brain right fucking now im gonna start throwing things and crying#anyway. thats how im doing. bye
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i over cooked my pizza now i have to die
#arfid is the most annoying ass bitch in the fucking world what the FUCK#the pizza isn’t even burnt or anything it’s just cooked more than i like it so the cheese is Gross and i don’t want it anymore but i have to#eat it or else i have nothin else to eat so i’m Suffering and trying to not have a meltdown bc of it#i just want to be able to eat foods and not fucking CARE this is the worst part of being autistic and i fucking hate it i hate it so BAD#whyyyyyy can’t i just eat things no matter what this isn’t FAIR i deserve a brain that lets me eat things even if they aren’t exactly how i#like them why can’t iiiiiiiii WHYYYYYY#i’m so annoyed at the world and myself idk what to do#i’m trying to eat this pizza but it’s not going well but i’m fr trying so hard#the only thing that helps me get through eating stuff like this is weed but i didn’t get to smoke before it was done and now idk if hitting#something would help me at this point bc what if it doesn’t hit fast enough and then the pizza is cold and then i have to throw myself away#ok fucj it i’ll hit my bong anyway worse case scenario i just calm down in like 20 mins
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Thinking about how isolated Tory was even inside of c.obra k.ai itself after the shift into Kreese and Silver’s leadership. With Hawk and Miguel leaving, she didn’t really have any friends until Robby joined. She had other “allies”, yes, but nothing beyond the surface level of dojo loyalty. And something that contributed a lot to her isolation was the change in ck as a whole. Before, it was comprised of a bunch of outcast kids trying to find some form of empowerment, and that’s what drew Tory there. That’s where she fit the best; she was also an outcast trying to find her own sense of worth and community. Somewhere she belonged. But then Kreese and Silver overhaul the whole damn thing and most of the outcasts are replaced with these privileged rich kids because of their athletic capabilities and willingness to conform to whatever their senseis want. It stops being about empowering those who need it and about the strength of an establishment.
And Tory didn’t fit in well with the new crowd. The first thing we see of her in s4? She is ALONE. Everyone else arrived together. She was by herself. They ignored her when they came in. Tory only matters to them when she approaches them, and even then, it’s in conflict. They represent the opposite of what she thought was great about ck and everything she didn’t want to become, yet there she was, and she was supposed to be one of them. Everyone on the outside thought she was one of them anyway, so what would it matter if she fought against the change? She wouldn’t be welcome outside of ck because of the things she’d done and the bridges she’d burned, but here she still had the choice to try and fit in. Do what her sensei tells her and conform, because that meant she could survive. It meant she had a chance. And yet, she never really could become one of them, could she? She couldn’t become another Kyler or even a Piper (who you can argue was just willfully ignorant instead of actively malicious like Kyler). There was never a moment in this new ck where Tory WASN’T torn between who she wanted to be and who she needed to be to survive in this environment. The only reason she wasn’t completely alone was because she had Robby (and later Kenny but only bc of that association with Robby tbh), and also Kreese, but there were plenty of times when it was questionable whether or not Kreese really had Tory’s back or if he was putting ck’s interests first.
#I am full of THOUGHTS#the fact that she only ever had one person who had her back without question during her whole stint in ck#yeah kreese had her back too a lot of times but the thing is#he also manipulated her#whether actively or unconsciously. he might not believe it was manipulation bc of his conviction in what he does but psychologically it was.#there were plenty of times when he put the interests of ck above tory's wellbeing#prime example of that is when he worked her up in s3 and got her to go lash out against md/ef#you cannot tell me he wasn't doing that on purpose in that scene. he knew what he was doing by telling her that shit in a very specific way.#he didn't have to tell her to go break in. he knew her well enough to know that she would do something. and he'd be blameless.#it didn't matter what came next as long as tory did *something*. anything to keep that separation and intimidate md/ef#kreese fought for tory and kreese emotionally manipulated tory are statements that are both true and not mutually exclusive#and I think that makes him telling her to fight her own way and reject ck's no mercy mentality at the tournament more impactful#because up until that point it was always ck first. even when helping tory. ck still came first.#but in that moment it was *tory* who he put first above ck. a BIG turnaround.#this is why I have so many complicated thoughts about her and papa john#bc he did right by her in the end but also that can't erase what came before and his intentions through indoctrinating her#do I think kreese genuinely cared about tory? yes.#do I also think he's a fucked up old guy with a lot of internalized shit who doesn't know how to separate his care from#his distorted world view and his ongoing manipulation of others? under the belief that he just wants what's best for his students? also yes.#I just love that dynamic it's so complex#and a lot to unpack for what it means for tory from the perspective of writing her#⚡ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 ── ❝ She was made of lightning. ❞
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*head in hands* oh God my parental issues affect my view of Kiryu
#it feels so DUMB and CLICHE like is it not enough for me to fully understand this man and why he does what he does and the fact that it#always comes from a good place and yet his actions nearly ALWAYS hurt those around him so it makes me irratated with him. Is it not enough#for him to be a mirror that reflects back at me and reminds me of everything I hate about myself? Is that not enough?#Noooo I have to go and care about Haruka more than the writers do so what I see is a girl who wants stability and who loves her father#who tries to be like 'im always here for you you can always count on me' but in practice is distant and leaves her to struggle alone#the one man she always knows will be there is the same man she can count in to never be there. his actions being fuelled by love and his ow#untreated issues somehow don't dull the pain but they do make you think you should be grateful for what you have and don't be harsh#It is at this point I May Be Projecting but always I'm correct. Anyway their relationship isn't 100% me n my dad ofc#I wouldn't even say we're both LIKE the characters but I'm seeing the threads. I'm seeing the reflection. I dont like it dnbmhfgndgdn#smol speaks#once again life would be easier if I JUST hated Kiryu but he makes it very difficult to do so but he also makes it difficult to like him#He's so fuckin stupid. But also his upbringing sucked. His views of the world and how he's 'supposed' to act clash with his inherent desire#and nature to be selfless and help others. Trying to prove to himself and others a 'true yakuza' is some beacon of honour#the people's champion. imo he is proven wrong time and time again but he refuses to hear it. At what point does it stop being a case of#standing your ground an act worthy of respect but then becomes bullheaded stupidity#selflessness into selfishness. courage into idiocy. love into hurt. fuck off Kiryu. get some help. you have it#smol plays yakuza
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not enough people write stucky being married/having kids tbh
#and idk why like they could absolutely find their own version of normal#and domestic life does not mean they stop being themselves#like the closest we get is in pre-iw fics obvs pre-catfa fics have domesticity too but there's the secrecy aspect#or just pining and not even actually being together so#OBVS marriage and kids are not impt to everyone so i get why some authors wouldn't go that route#but there are others that i figure absolutely would? and it feels like it just shows#that even in fanfiction where people are trying to give these characters a break from superhero-ing#like fans can't seem to actually imagine a real end to the fighting and idgi tbh#like they'll occasionally give bucky an out bc he explicitly doesn't want to fight in cw and iw#but they don't give the same option to steve despite him considering getting out all the way back in catws#like granted that was more to do with shield and not a desire to stop fighting bad guys#i just think like. why can't there be a compromise#bc the only fics where he does fully retire he's doing stuff that's ENTIRELY different (and usually has disappeared entirely#varies whether he's still in contact with the people who matter)#like why can't he do stuff that's still helping the world without the captain america mantle#the WHOLE fucking point is he wants to do what's right regardless of the super-serum#idk it definitely gets into the idea of ~selfishness~ that people talked about wrt endgame#like yeah lol he did deserve to get the fuck out of being captain america after over a decade of saving the world#does not mean the answer was abandon everyone and everything for someone who does not have his morals lol ANYWAY
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One More? Please? - G.S.
Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.
“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”
“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”
“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”
You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will.
“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”
Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.
“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.”
“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.
Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?
Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it.
You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.
But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement.
Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him.
Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity.
A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place.
Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home.
You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life.
“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle.
“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”
You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”
“I already told y-”
“Anything but that.”
With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”
“...”
“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”
You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.
Shit.
And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably.
“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”
You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”
Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.”
And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side.
All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.
“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?”
You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”
Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”
“Awww. Eight?”’
“No.”
“Five?”
“Satoru.”
Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”
Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”
And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.
Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.
It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”
Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted.
“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips.
“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.”
His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again.
Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes.
“Shit. O-one more.”
Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between.
Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock.
“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”
Oh?
Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-
Oh.
Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face.
“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him.
“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”
Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt.
But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman.
“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin.
Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.
You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”
And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.
Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night.
You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.
“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”
The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?
“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?”
Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”
Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you.
It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.
Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.
God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue.
“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”
“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”
A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely.
Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.
Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”
Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument.
“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.
But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth.
“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”
Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face.
Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.
As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.
Oh, how beautiful he was like this.
“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.
“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.
“One more. It didn’t work.”
Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner.
But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”
The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”
You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick.
But oh was he pretty - so pretty. Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.
Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”
Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow.
“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins.
And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers.
Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard.
Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.
“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”
Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock.
Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.
Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now.
As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster.
Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him.
“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard.
Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.
Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”
Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”
Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.
Slam!
You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him.
You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”
“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”
And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.
You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste.
“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”
Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.
“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.
You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-”
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.
But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.
“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.
There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”
You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”
Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him.
But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.
“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.”
Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”
Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.
In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders.
“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him.
And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over.
With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”
The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.”
You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours.
“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”
And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice.
You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all - anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.
Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.
You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-
“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”
“Hngh- yes- Toru!”
You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.
And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt.
“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically.
It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly.
Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.
But first…
Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely.
Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt.
But no matter.
Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him.
Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”
And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips.
“One more? Please?”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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Like everything is pissing me off rn
#it’s like my body recognized the unspeakable amt of random sadness didn’t fix anything so now she has to make me hate literally everything#the just like backseat background constant dysphoria over not having any e in my body is like. sickening it makes me feel awful#and I’m starting to really properly run up against the cost of hrt for the first time which is SUPER awesome too#and ofc there’s stress over this STUPID!! FUCKING!! ACTING PROJECT!!!!!#and that makes me want to kill someone#but there’s also stress about like everything else. and world situation isn’t doing anything#and also everyone around me makes me angry#and also everyone makes me angry.#like if anyone’s reading this genuinely go fuck urself u have no ability to help me and you’re really!! really stupid for thinking you have#ANY#idea what it feels like for me rn. and let’s be real you don’t have a solution either so what’s the point#i really really reeeaaaaalllyyyyyyyyy just want to rip someone’s throat out if I can be real#god i need to get any kind of sleep at all#EVERYTHING SUCKS. GENUINELY EVERYTHING SUCKS. ITS BAD!!!! ITS BAD!!!!!!!!!#i like actually want to cry#& every time i start thinking abt it contextually like actually I don’t have it so bad and all of these feelings are transient or whatever#i want to rip someone’s throat out even more#& ofc that anger also turns inwards but for the most part I can just call that as stupid and move on#but like: why the fuck am i treating a Tumblr blog where none of the readers actually care abt me as if it were a fucking confessional#i don’t even want to think abt sleeping bc i know thatll suck too I’ll have some horrible stress dream#god I’m gonna start crying again actually yall i fucking hate emotions can I be real
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Two Idiots in Love
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox
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Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?
You are managing just fine.
Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.
But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.
So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.
Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.
Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.
You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.
Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.
“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.
“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.
Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.
Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.
He doesn’t talk much.
No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.
You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.
You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.
With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:
“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.
Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:
“I’m good.”
You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.
You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.
For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.
“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.
After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...
"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.
"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.
"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!
"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."
You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.
"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.
"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.
You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.
"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."
"It's just leftovers..."
You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.
None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.
You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.
With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.
Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.
"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."
"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.
You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.
He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.
You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.
"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"
"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.
You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.
After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.
"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"
"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"
He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."
Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"
"But..."
"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."
He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.
The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.
But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.
He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.
For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:
You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.
Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.
"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"
"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."
"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.
Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.
"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."
Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.
He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.
"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.
"What?"
"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.
"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"
You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."
Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.
He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.
You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.
"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."
Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.
"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.
"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.
"... Thank you."
Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.
And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.
When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.
You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.
Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.
"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.
"Eating."
"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Sitting on the floor." You nod.
"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.
"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.
"Elaborate, please."
You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.
And maybe...
"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."
Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.
You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...
"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."
"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."
"... I hate talking to people."
You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.
"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."
That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.
The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.
After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.
The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.
"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.
"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.
Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.
"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.
You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.
"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."
You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.
Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
"Does it hurt?" You ask.
"No." He responds in between goosebumps.
He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.
But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...
"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.
He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"
Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.
"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.
Hold.
He loves to hold you.
His hands serve to hold you.
To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.
"Aquí estoy." He whispers.
"I know." You reply.
You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.
By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.
"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.
He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."
You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.
"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.
"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.
"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."
You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.
"Is the same with these?"
He nods.
"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."
"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."
"Mi cielo..."
"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."
He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.
A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.
But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.
He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.
He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.
Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.
He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.
AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.
You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.
"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.
"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.
"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."
"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"
"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."
"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.
"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"
This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.
After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...
"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."
The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.
"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"
Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.
"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"
"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.
"Why is that important?"
"When, Miguel?" She demands.
"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."
"When was the last time you failed a class?"
"Never." He immediately responds.
"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"
Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."
"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."
Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.
"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."
The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.
During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.
He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.
He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.
While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.
"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."
That was all it took.
"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.
"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.
Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.
"Here." He says. "Look what I got."
You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.
"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"
Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.
If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.
Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.
You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.
The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.
You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.
He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.
"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.
"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."
You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."
"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."
You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.
"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."
His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.
"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.
"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.
"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."
He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.
After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.
"Miguel, wait, I'm..."
"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"
You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.
His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.
"Eyes on me."
His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.
"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."
You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.
"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.
"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."
His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.
He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.
"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."
"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.
"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.
You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.
When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.
"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.
"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."
He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.
"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."
You definitely know he will do more than that.
PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara fluff#miguel ohara smut#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#atsv#peter b parker
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants
“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts.
You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time.
Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question.
You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...”
An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.
Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero.
Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.
“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.
“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.
Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.
That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.
Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.
As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”
Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.
But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.
Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."
In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.
The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.
Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.
“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.”
His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.
“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”
Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.
He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."
Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence.
“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.
"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."
Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in.
Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill.
That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure.
You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure.
Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew.
By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.
“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"
Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.
“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”
Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul.
“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.
Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion.
That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.
His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”
Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.
“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”
There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.
He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.
“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simin ghost riley#simon smut#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost#ghost cod smut#cod ghost#cod mw22
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Dirty Dozen (ft. +2)
GN! MC x Pervert! OM Characters
(Cause y'all seemed to love the first one omg. Also TW: I made everyone wayy more sleazy and nasty than before so read at your own risk. MInors DNI)
Pervert! Mammon who likes to ask you for something specifically when your hands are full. "MC, lend me a few Grimm could ya?" He asks when you're in the middle of cooking.
"My hands are covered in cake batter, just take some from my back pocket."
"Are you sure it's there? Let me check both pockets." He isn't so much searching for coins as much as he's feeling and practically groping your ass. Seriously you start to wonder how it's taking him 20 minutes to find something that's right there.
Pervert! Solomon who keeps his room colder than usual when you come over for magic lessons.
"Is it too cold for you MC? I apologise, I kept it this way because some of the potions have bad reactions to heat but if you'd like-"
"I'm absolutely fine, Solomon. You worry about me too much." You smile at him reassuringly, not noticing how his eyes are so eagerly trained at your nipples perking up through your thin t-shirt.
Boner Bonus points if you allow him to hug you for some warmth. His fingers will definitely brush against your chest more than once.
Pervert! Beel who seems to make a mess whenever he's trying to help you in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry, MC. I didn't mean to spill it on your hands!"
"It's okay Beel, it's just some cream and syrup. I can just wash it off right away."
"But it's such a waste. Please allow me." He starts to thoroughly lick your fingers and you shake your head and let him knowing his fixations on food.
But he can't help it - you taste so good. He secretly wonders what you might taste like down there, drooling at the thought.
Pervert! Levi who has taken to sitting on pillows Japanese style while gaming and offers you the same. Sure enough you don't even suspect an ulterior motive.
"Did you get inspired by some human world anime again? Careful though - your legs and butt will start to cramp after a while."
"MC you're too gracious! Caring so much for an otaku like me!"
After you leave, he promptly takes the pillow you were sitting on and puts it in his bathtub. He's going to sleep on it ofc. Your scent on it helps him jerk off better.
Pervert! Belphie who now asks you to rub his belly till he falls asleep. "What's so funny?" He asks as you giggle at his request.
"Since when do you need help falling asleep?"
"I care about the quality of my sleep. And I sleep better this way."
Fortunately you believe him and don't suspect that it's because it's the closest he can get you to fondling his dick. He has such a difficult time holding in his moans and hard ons, every time your hands go even a bit lower than usual.
Pervert! Barbatos who got into sewing clothes as a hobby and specifically likes making them for you now. But you never understand why he needs to take same measurements over and over again.
"Oh? This is a different kind of design, MC. So the measurements will vary from before."
"Always making new things aren't you? You never fail to suprise Barbatos." You smile at him admiring.
The tightening of the tape around your chest and crotch are subtle. He can hardly keep it together when you praise him after all. But he has to if he wants to skim his hands over your body like this again.
Pervert! Diavolo who takes you on such long drives that you always doze off in the front seat, waking up apologetic for missing so much of the journey.
"Hahaha, it's okay, MC. We've been on this same road lots of times. I assure you, you didn't miss anything. And I like that you feel safe to sleep in my presence."
"But still, I'm so sorry, it feels disrespectful..." You apologize, not even knowing how hard he is in his pants right now.
Afterall, he can keep squeezing your beautiful thighs, maybe let his hands wander between them and imagine himself fucking you in the back seat as much as he wants, when you're asleep.
Pervert! Simeon who will have noone except you as his muse for art classes. And the themes just keep getting more erotic each time.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, MC? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable-"
"Nonsense, Simeon. I feel super comfortable if it's you. You're a true artist after all." You say as you lay on his bed wrapped up only in bedsheets, exposing your entire back and legs.
If only you knew, this angel has thoughts dirtier than most demons. How he's practically fucking you with his eyes. How he's definitely going to jerk off into those bedsheets, moaning your name.
Pervert! Satan who loves teaching you things - standing right behind you, guiding your hands to make latte-art, or trying a new style of painting.
"That's it, nice and slow. Look how much you've improved, MC." He beams at the cute kitty in the coffee cup.
"All thanks to you, Satan. I can't wait to learn more from you." You smile at him earnestly.
He almost feels guilty for tricking you this way, but the way your hands feel in his, and your ass feels against his groin is so addicting. One of these days, he wishes could teach you to be on all fours and take his length in your pretty little mouth.
Pervert! Asmo who loves keeping your eyes on him and noone else. From elaborate performances to petty staring contests, he cannot have enough of your gaze.
"Oh you're turning red in the face, Asmo. Did I manage to flutter the heart of the Avatar of Lust?" You lean forward smiling.
"You're my only weakness after all, MC. It's your fault for making me this way." He almost moans.
You laugh and mock apologize at his antics but you don't know he's been grinding like an animal on his seat, and creamed his pants under your innocent gaze. Your undivided attention just turns him on so much.
Pervert! Lucifer who makes his desires too obvious sometimes. He'll regret it in the morning and take you to dinner to apologize but not until he's already done something dirty.
"Lucifer, it's 2 am. You need to throw away that coffee and sleep." You're practically dragging him to bed.
"Fine. I'll go sleep if you'll stay in my room tonight." He says knowing you'll comply. You care too much for your own good. He's not even going to let you sleep on the couch, no you have to stay wrapped up in his arms.
You might wake upto him groaning your name in his sleep and you might mistake it for a nightmare - not knowing how he's balls deep inside you in his dreams.
Pervert! Thirteen who likes how excited you get over her newest inventions and keeps making more things to call you over.
"And this little baby and can throw pie at people's faces without ever missing. Guaranteed headshot." She smiles proud.
"This would be so useful in a cafeteria food fight and then get banned right after its glory. But I so wanna use it!" You whine.
She loves how much you appreciate her inventions. She is secretly working on a 'pleasure' device scented like her to give you - she hopes you'll like it just as much.
Pervert! Mephisto who is actually taken aback by your duality. You're such a mischievous little imp usually but turn so well-mannered in front of Diavolo's esteemed guests.
"So even you can be prim and proper sometimes? If only you could maintain this on the daily." He huffs.
You laugh and mock-bow in front of him. "Of course, anything for you my dearest lord. Would you like to dance with this proper human while you can?"
He blushes at the sudden offer. Why you little- how dare you tempt him like this. You can't complain about him gripping you somewhere improper or too tight. You deserve this for your attitude.
Pervert! Raphael who is still navigating new feelings of lust he's never felt before he met you. Why his heart skips every time you fall asleep on his shoulder or why he felt a sudden warmth at the pit of his stomach feeling you breath so softly into his neck.
"Thank you for helping me tidy the classroom, MC. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were."
"That's alright. It's more fun with two people anyway and wait Raphael there's a bucket over the-" The fresh bucket of water already spilled splashing all over both of you.
You immediately fetched a towel to help him dry up but he couldn't stop staring at you instead. With the uniform sticking to your body like and the water glistening on your exposed skin - why was he so enthralled? Why does he feel a strange pulsing between his legs as you hover over him?
#obey me#obey me smut#obey me solomon#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me lucifer#obey me beel#obey me mammon#obey me simeon#obey me belphie#obey me barbatos#obey me diavolo#obey me leviathan#obey me thirteen#obey me Raphael#obey me mephisto
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vent in tags
#tw vent#i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here#first they leave me out of almost every fucking thing#then when my roommate calls them out on it they try to overcompensate#no hate to them i know they're trying their best#but i can't help feel that i'm being pitied or something#and now they tell me of an internship available in a uni#but turns out my CGPA is less than the ones they're accepting#yeah my mental health hasn't been good for more than a year which has been severely affecting my studies#but it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault for not being good enough#i hate myself so so much for being so bad so useless#I'm not good enough. I'll never be good enough. no matter how much i try I'll always fail#what's the point of trying anymore at this point. why am i even going on. for what#i wish i could just shut off myself from the entire world like forever#so that the world can't hurt me and I can't bother anyone else#ever#I'm sorry for being like this#i really am
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