#but he’s convinced himself that next time he’ll be able to keep it down

[primussavethesemechs]

Love the “Rise Raph still has anger issues he just has better coping mechanisms so he doesn’t take it out on his family” idea, I think his patience gets worn down quicker than anything by board games and card games (and Leo’s ego as an honorable mention but we all know that already).

Idk why but it just makes sense to me for scrabble/battleship/trouble to turn him into a ticking time bomb. He’s convinced everytime that he’ll be able to control himself but like half way through he’ll be grinding his teeth so loud everyone can hear it. It only makes things worse that Leo is the best at these and is also the only one dumb enough to take Raph up on his offer to play Every. Fucking. Time. despite knowing how it’s going to end. He still doesn’t take it out on them but goes on a mini rampage of knocking stuff over, yelling nonsense and storms off until he calms down and has to guiltily come back out and clean up.

They had a chess board at one point, key word being HAD. Leo beat Raph in 9 moves or less 5 times in a row and Raph got so angry he ate the fucking board. He has never once won a game of poker because he has a terrible poker face and also has a winning/losing hand stink that gives him away everytime, he still attempts to play every few months. Sorry is a game of complete chance, despite this fact Leo always manages to win and Raph had to throw himself into the sewer water to cool off because he gave himself a rage fever.

They have only ever played monopoly ONCE. They have never spoken about it since and the board has been incinerated by Donnie for the good of the family.

It all plays out exactly like that one adventure time episode with jakes obsession with wining card wars except Leo isnt concerned, if anything he fuels the flames by bragging.

Edit- On the VERY rare occasion he does win, he’s a sore winner- think the Jupiter Jim episode where he gets to be the sidekick. He almost out smugs Leo on occasion.

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3 tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw

-

Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule. 

The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well. 

It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room. 

“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.

“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”

“Your doing?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.

Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”

Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to. 

He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity. 

Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation. 

He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard. 

“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer. 

Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed. 

“Where’d you come from?”

“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”

On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought. 

“We have a problem, Soap?”

“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit. 

No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.

They’ll have to come to terms some other way.

“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym. 

He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others. 

In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.

The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.

“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym. 

Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him. 

Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him. 

He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver. 

He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though. 

“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat. 

“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask. 

His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold. 

Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place. 

He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder. 

“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…” 

His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound. 

“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold. 

“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”

Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his. 

“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”

He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging). 

There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his. 

Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”

“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”

“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”

“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”

“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”

“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”

The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room. 

“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”

He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate. 

With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground. 

“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”

Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”

It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight. 

Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though. 

He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight. 

His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second. 

Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets. 

Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist. 

It spurs him into a kind of ​​protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later. 

He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again. 

Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—

“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”

Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort. 

When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer. 

He’ll have that soon enough.

A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand. 

There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out. 

Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least. 

“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”

[risuola]

ENTRY #15 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I love the way you kiss me.

contents: arranged marriage!au, tooth-rotting fluff, kisses (duh) — wc. 994

a/n: i just can't help myself, i love fluff with this man

series masterlist

Satoru loves morning kisses.

Your lips like a warm ray of sun graze the skin of his cheek, a feather-like brush that makes his heart do backflips in his chest. You’re a bliss that coats his years-troubled soul in honey, you’re sweet on his tongue. You’re his favorite taste, his most beloved candy, you’re all he’s ever wanted and had no idea he needed. Your kisses are soothing, they are a melody he wants on repeat, they are the kick of power that gets him going every day.

He’s convinced you do magic — he feels the sparkles bubbling in his skin whenever your lips press to his cheek or forehead. Shivers run down his spine when he feels your nose against the side of his neck. And it’s so innocent. You’re like an angel that’s taken him under your wing, you gave him hope and he wants to worship you. He wants to thank you for changing the life he’s deemed meaningless years and years ago. You brought light into his darkness and showed him the way when he was lost.

You kiss him quickly and he thinks that you can’t tell how much it means to him. You kiss him so naturally, as if you truly love him and sometimes he wonders if he’ll ever be able to earn all the feeling you offered him. It’s a peck, nothing more, but it’s enough for his heart to swell in his chest, bloom like a flower that he wishes to give you. And then, you’re going about your day, making breakfast or coffee, brewing tea and pouring honey and he tries to help you, show you how much he cares, how much he loves you. He’s stealing touches — soft brushes of your arms, little bumps of your hips against his, the gentle nudges and swipes whenever you reach for the same thing or pass next to each other. Yeah, he cherishes all of those and sometimes he earns himself another kiss from you. Sometimes you press your lips against him again and if he’s really lucky, you’d kiss his lips. Then you’re chuckling, patting his chest and swatting him away because once he gets you in his arms, he’s not willing to let go.

The way your body melts in his arms is enough of a reason to kiss you more. He likes to trap you against the kitchen counter, to sit you up on the table or pull you onto his lap. His long arms wrap around you, he wants to feel your heartbeat, he wants to feel you squirm in his grasp and vibrate when you purr or giggle. When he’s feeling particularly needy (everyday), he’s having you wrapped around his waist, your delicious thighs hooked onto his hips and his hands comfortable on your butt as he gets lost in the sensation of your tongue. And then you’re tugging his hair and biting his lip, telling him that the tea is getting cold and the food is drying out and he couldn’t care less when he lounges forward once more, capturing you in another searing kiss.

Then, Satoru is late for work and you barely make it on time. You apologize and he’s sheepish about it. Satoru loves his morning kisses.

And he loves the late-night ones too.

The ones when both of you are after work, not caring about the world anymore and focusing on the warmth. He’d have you close to his chest, on the couch. His mouth works lazily against yours, slow and sensual as the tv hums in the background — yet another episode of the series that none of you follow enough to know what’s going on in the plot. It’s dark outside and in the room, the screen casts an eerie glow on you and him as he keeps you in his arms and he doesn’t rush it.

You’d have your forehead against his, your noses brushing back and forth and he loves the subtle intimacy it brings. Your dainty fingers dance along his nape, nails brush through his undercut teasing his sensitive skin. You talk quietly, murmuring little stories about how the day went — all between the soft pecks and passionate kisses. And he’d tell you he loves you; his mouth moves on his own as his breath carries the words, delivering them straight from his heart and into your skin — he wants to engrave them onto you, he wants you to know that he cherishes you more than he’s capable of showing. That he loves you more than he’d ever be able to put in words and then, he’d thank you for saying it back because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. You think he’s cute and assure him that he is more than enough, kissing him to prove your point.

He loves the late-night kisses. The ones when you’re in bed with him, your faces millimeters away as he admires your beauty in silence. You’re sleepy and don’t talk much anymore but he devotes his last moments of consciousness to take you in. His palm cradles your cheek and his thumb runs over your lid and down the bridge of your nose until it reaches the ups of your lips and he stops there. He feels the softness of your lower lip underneath the pad of his finger, he makes your mouth part slightly and feels the warm breath escaping them.

He brings his lips towards yours and a soft purr rumble in your chest — the kiss is gentle, just barely a touch but he’s content with it. It’s warm and plush, lips brushing against each other in the feather-like dance. There’s no tongue or teeth, there’s no rush or urgency. It’s a silent goodnight and he feels the sleep slowly taking him away. Satoru moves higher, kissing the tip of your nose and your forehead and you use your last movements to nuzzle into his neck as he nuzzles into your hair.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe @fortunatelyfurrygiver @lolita-h @sweetpo1son @myahfig4 @zurakoofgintama

[redstarwriting]

his girl | ii. envy me

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, insults, spoilers, probably bad spanish, 42 Miles and reader get into a little spat, stubborn 42 Miles, violent 42 Miles, Miles and Miles almost fight twice

a/n: teehee and so it begins 🤭 didn’t expect this to turn into a whole series but i’m not mad. i hope y’all enjoy the storyline i thought up and please, by all means, give me your input! thank you all for the support 🖤 enjoy :)

previous chapter: i. his girl

now reading: ii. envy me

next chapter: iii. all the riches

───────────────────────────────

Miles, in fact, did not run. He was too taken aback to do anything, even though his body was screaming at him too. And he was too focused on your confused face. You looked exactly like his (Y/n), and it made his heart ache. And that is how other Miles was able to knock him out so fast. And why he just woke up in his Uncle Aaron’s apartment, chained to the punching bag, just like he did to Peter after first meeting him. He hears his uncle's music blaring from his record player. He looks in the direction it’s coming from. His eyes widen as he sees his Uncle Aaron. He’s alive. “Uncle Aaron?”

“Not your tío,” 42 Miles says, and Miles glares at him. “I’m just tryna go home, bro. Why are you doing this? What are you getting from this?”

“You said you’re from a different dimension?”

“Yeah. And?” Miles asks, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I was sent here by mistake! I just wanna get back to my world, man. Dad’ll die,” he says, exasperated, and Miles stares at him with a blank expression. “Your dad alive?”

“Yeah, of course, he is,” Miles says, and 42 Miles frowns slightly. “Oh.”

Miles normally would be able to piece together what the disappointment in his voice would mean. But he's a little preoccupied with multiple other thoughts currently to necessarily care to psychoanalyze his own behaviors. He also doesn’t have the chance to see Aaron’s face drop and see the sadness in his eyes. Or the way you immediately look at your Miles to make sure the news didn’t break him. “But he’s gonna die if you keep me here,” Miles explains, and 42 Miles nods. “Yeah. Well, you ain’t leaving.”

“…Please. You have to let me go,” Miles pleads. But 42 Miles just stares at him, unmoved. “Why would I do that?” he asks, placing his gauntlet next to Miles’ head. Miles frowns, placing his finger on the piece of metal linking the chains together, ready to electrocute it and make his escape. The other him stares at him with an unreadable expression, seemingly no emotion behind his eyes, and just as it feels like shit is about to go down, he hears your voice ring out. “Miles. Just let him go.” Both your Miles and 1610 Miles turn their heads to you. It’s the first time 1610 Miles noticed you were in here. “(Y/n)? Bro, why are you letting her around your business?” Miles asks, and 42 Miles shoots a venomous look at him. “She insisted on coming. This is her first time around this shit,” Miles hisses at him. 1610 Miles can’t help but feel a tightening in his chest. He wants nothing more than for you from his world to be here with him. Not even in a romantic way, at least that’s what he’s trying to convince himself. He just misses you. He chased you away, and now he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to fix it. His thoughts are interrupted when you clear your throat. Both of the boys look back in your direction. You’re on Aaron’s couch, staring at your Miles with such intensity it makes even 1610 Miles lock up. He can only imagine what it’s like being the one on the receiving end of that look. He sees other Miles’ eyes soften in his peripheral vision as he removes his fist from beside Miles’ head. “Mi amor…”

“No. Let him go, there’s no point in keeping him here,” you say, and 42 Miles frowns. “Not one to let people go, (Y/n). You know that.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Morales.”

“Damn, ma! Not even callin’ me Miles now?” Miles asks, an edge to his voice. You frown. “No. Not right now. Let him go, and we’ll see.”

“Why you want me to let him go? Got a crush on him or something?” Miles asks, and you raise your eyebrow. You glance at Miles, then back to your Miles. “Technically, yeah. I do. Unless you’d prefer I break up with both of you right now,” you say back, your voice just as cold as your boyfriend’s. “You tellin’ me you’d rather have this guy? Sayin’ this guy is like me? Estás de broma…” he mutters, and Miles looks between the two of you. “Not to piss you off more, but this guy is still technically you,” Miles says, and 42 Miles glares at him. “Cállate. No one was talking to you.”

“Man, why do you hate me so much?! I’m you!” Miles says, exasperated. He just doesn’t understand why this version of him is so hostile to him. They’re basically the same! Except Miles is a superhero and other Miles is a supervillain, but they still both have super in the title so how different can they really be? “Is this a call for help or–”

Miles gets cut off but 42 Miles punching the punching bag, right by Miles’ head. Enough force is exuded that the sand from the bag flies out, starting to pour down the side of it. His eyes widen, and you gasp. Even Aaron reacts a bit to it. But maybe it’s just because someone who looks exactly like his nephew is on the receiving end of it this time. This time. “Miles!” you yell, standing up. “What?!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“What I gotta do! You don’t get it, (Y/n)! This is the job!” Miles yells, and you roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Miles. This is the job? He’s you! Wouldn’t you be trying to get home if you knew you could save your dad?!” you yell, and he glares at you. “(Y/n). Don’t.”

“You know you would be,” you walk over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks. He subconsciously relaxes, but only slightly. You sigh. “You don’t have to be such a hardass all the time, amor,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “No comprendes, amor… I have to be this way. Or else— “

“Miles, he’s not a part of the cartel. He’s not gonna tell anyone here that you let him go… he’s not even from here. It’s okay for you to think with your heart instead of your head just this once,” you say, and he huffs. “Nah. I stopped thinkin’ with my heart a long time ago,” he says, and a hurt expression crosses your face. “Then what am I? A calculated move for you to use as an adavantage when you need it?” you ask, venom in your words. “No, (Y/n), don’t be estúpida. You’re mi vida, but him? How I know he ain’t just some experiment they made? To get to me?” Miles asks, looking at you with a skeptical look. You sigh. “Dude! I don’t even know what you’re talking about! I have spider powers, is that a thing anyone else here has?!”

“No.”

“Exactly! Why would whoever you’re talking about make a carbon copy of you with enhanced biology just to use me for this?!” Miles asks, and you shrug. “He’s got a point, Miles,” you say, and 42 Miles looks at you again. “Thank you, (Y/n),” 1610 Miles says, and 42 Miles rolls his eyes. “(Y/n) you have to understand that I can’t take no chances. You know that the cartel will go after—”

“I know. I know, Miles, but I really don’t think that—”

“You don’t know that (Y/n). You don’t know them like I do,” Miles says, and you sigh. “Miles. Mi amor. Mi vida. Mi sol, listen to me. If he wanted you dead, he would have done it by now,” you try to get through to him. He glances back at Miles, and Miles can literally see the distrust and paranoia in his expression.

He must have been through so much shit. This is a world with no Spider-Man after all. And all this mention of a cartel? No wonder Miles turned to the Prowler. It’s similar to Aaron in his world, he thinks. He thought that he had nowhere else to turn, so he turned to crime. But deep down, he can’t be that bad. Right…?

“Amor, I need to be cautious. I just have to ask him some questions before… letting him go,” he mumbles, glancing at Aaron. Aaron nods. 1610 Miles gets the feeling they’re not planning on letting him go. You must get that feeling too, because you shake your head, pulling your hands away from Miles’ face. “I can’t believe you right now,” you say, and he frowns. “(Y/n), please just try to understand—”

“No, Miles! I’m done trying to understand you when you never try to understand me!” you yell, and he clenches his jaw. “What do you mean by that, huh?” he asks, and you scoff. “I just. I need to leave. Before I do something I regret.”

“Like what, huh? Break up with me? Fight with me? Actually understand where I’m coming from for once?” Aaron cringes at that. You’re probably the most understanding person in his life other than him. That wasn’t the right choice of words. And you let him know it. “FOR ONCE?! Miles! Oh my god! Are you serious right now?! How many times have you tried to understand me?! I lost people too, you know! And I’m not out here—”

“Do you think I want to do this, (Y/n)?! Be fuckin’ for rea! I do this for you!” he yells back, and you shake your head, frustrated to the point of tears. “I never asked you to do this!”

“You didn’t need to because I love you enough to want to without you asking me to! You need it, Mamá needs it, everyone needs it, and I can provide it for all of you!” You angrily wipe a tear away, trying desperately to keep the rest of them contained. Miles softens. “Amor, no necesitas llorar—”

“Stop, Miles. Just… just stop. I need some air, don’t follow me,” you turn, hurrying to Aaron’s door. Miles steps forward to go after you, but Aaron puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Nah, man. Give her some space. She’ll come around,” Aaron says, and Miles clenches his fists. As soon as he sees you slip out of the door, closing it behind you, he turns to Miles. “This is your fault,” he says, pointing at him. “Miles,” Aaron says, crossing his arms. While he is also weary of this new Miles, his Miles isn’t thinking rationally right now. Then again, he is only 15. That’s why Aaron is here, sometimes he needs some assistance. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Aaron asks the other Miles. Miles hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. He shakes his head. “Nothing… nothing. Just… good to see you. Haven’t in a while,” he mumbles, and Aaron raises his eyebrow. That could mean a few things. Best not to dwell on it, though. 

“Who are you, really?” 42 Miles asks, and 1610 Miles groans. “I’m you, dude! Why is that so hard to understand?! I’m not a part of a cartel or anything I just want to get home!” Miles is frustrated. Seeing the world they live in from Aaron’s window, he gets why Miles is so… paranoid. But honestly, how long can he keep this uncertainty up? “Explain how you got here. And don’t just say ‘by mistake,’ alright?” Miles says, showing the claws on his gauntlets. Miles rolls his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man, right? And there’s tons of different Spider-Mans… men? Not important, there’s other me’s! And Spider-Women, Spider-People in a bunch of different dimensions, one of them, Miguel, figured out how to travel dimensions and we all met each other… except I wasn’t supposed to meet them because the spider that made me Spider-Man actually came from this world so someone here was supposed to get bit and I wasn't supposed to exist like this, but—”

“Wait… you sayin’ my world ain’t supposed to be like this…?” Miles asks, and Miles nods. “Yes. The people at Alchemax on my world built a collider and had the spider come to my world and it got out and—”

“You’re the reason for this?” Miles looks at himself, who is not even angrier. “I… n-no, but yes, I—” Miles gets cut off by a gauntlet getting placed way too close to his head again. What he doesn’t know is 42 Miles just put together everything in his head. This Miles was Spider-Man. And his dad was still alive because of it. If that were the case for him, maybe his dad wouldn’t have died. Maybe he wouldn’t have been like this. 

He could have had everything that was taken from him. 

“That’s enough talking, cabrón,” he growls, ready to escalate things yet again. Miles gets ready to break out of his restraints again, and Aaron gets ready to help Miles out. Then, over the music, they hear a scream.

A scream that undoubtedly belongs to you.

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[enhas-pov]

Hey i was asking if u could make heeseung “My stalker “, can u add like second boy lead like jake so it be more interesting more LIKE ADD JAKE LIKE HES YN’S EX HE CAME BACK SO IT BE MORE INTERESTING LIKE HEESEUNG GETS JEALOUS HELPPP 😭 (sorry if it’s bad idea i sucks at it 😭🙏🏻)

my stalker pt.2

summary: after heeseung successfully kidnapped reader, he practically owns her now. after being stuck in heeseung’s home for a while, he finally lets her go out with him. but what happens when they stumble upon reader’s ex boyfriend, jake?

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, kidnapping, torture, crying, blood, gore, yandere, obsessive behavior, jealousy issues, (and probably more)

word count: 5.8k

note: thank u for the idea😭 i was stuck on what to make part 2 about, but i hope u like it!! (‼️i’ve also not read through it, so ignore any mistakes‼️)

pt.1

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i don’t know how long he’s held me captive for. i’ve been in here for what feels like years, but it’s probably just been a few days. he’s been coming in and out with food and a change of clothes. i have to change in front of him every time which makes me feel disgusted. he hasn’t told me his name, i don’t know his age, i don’t know how he knows all of these things about me, he’s still a complete stranger in my eyes. if he’s gonna keep me all to himself, i might as well be able to go around freely around his home right? i can’t be stuck in this basement forever. i need to convince him to let me out of here.

“sorry for late dinner. i was busy” he walked in holding a plate filled with food in his hands. he sat down next to me and placed the meal in my lap. he also sits down with me until i’m finished eating, i guess that’s kinda nice of him. in my opinion it’s better than being all alone. “can i ask you something..?” i ask nervously. he hums in response while he looks at me. “can you-“ i pause as i felt scared to ask him to let me out, what if he’ll start going mad? “don’t stop on my account. go on” i felt his hand sliding over my thigh making me even more nervous. “can you let me out of here? ..please” i could feel his eyes on me even tho i had my head lowered. “remember what i told you?” “unfortunately, i can’t trust you yet. you’ll still have to stay down here until i can” “you can trust me. please, i don’t like being here all by myself” i heard him sigh before he got back up on his feet. “sorry pretty. no can do” “but-“ “___.” the sound of his voice when he said my name, it sounded like a warning. i kept quiet as he made his way out, but he stopped at the sound of my voice again. “can i at least take a bath? i feel dirty..” he turned back around and i expected him to start yelling at me for talking again, but he actually agreed to it? “fine.. get up” i quickly stood up and walked over to him. he placed his hand in mine as he lead me out of the basement. the second we walked upstairs my eyes went straight to the windows. finally seeing daylight after being locked up for a few days felt amazing. all though, i couldn’t recognize where we were. i could see a field and that was it. when we reached the bathroom, i didn’t expect him to close the door behind him. was he gonna watch me take a bath? he’s weirder than i thought.. “are you staying?” i asked him. you could hear how nervous i was at the sound of my voice. “uhuh” i watched him cross his arms and lean against the sink. “can’t risk anything. who knows? you could try to drown yourself or maybe even jump out of that window” he said, his finger pointing at the window next to the bathtub. “i wouldn’t do that” did he really think i was gonna try and kill myself? “enough chit chatting. get undressed” he suddenly said. he was still stood watching me, it made me slightly uncomfortable. i didn’t want to get naked in front of him. “could you- can you turn around, please..?” he looked me up and down before slowly turning around, i sighed in relief when he did. i started with removing my top along with my bra and then my sweatpants along with my underwear. i sat myself down in the bathtub and immediately loved the feeling of the warm water against my skin, i had forgotten how much i missed it.

when he heard my body touch the water, he turned back around to face me. i looked up and saw him eyeing my body. he couldn’t see much since i had covered my chest with my hands and closed my legs. it was completely silent, he wasn’t saying anything and neither was i. i wanted to know more about him but i was afraid to ask. should i? the worst thing he can say is no, right? “i never got your name” i say, breaking the silence. he eyes left my body as he was now making eye contact. “why do you wanna know my name, pretty?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “i’m gonna stay here with you.. right?” he nodded, “that’s the plan” “then, i’d like to know who i’m staying with” how long would i be staying with him for tho? weeks? months? years? “i guess not knowing my name would be kinda weird. since, you know.. you’ll be staying with me forever” forever? i’m gonna be trapped in this hell hole forever? no, i refuse. i don’t even know this guy. he seems like a creep and- “heeseung” huh? “lee heeseung” heeseung. so that’s what his name is. “heeseung.. lee heeseung.. hee.. seung-“ “what are you doing?” he asked by cutting me off. “i just.. you call me pretty a lot and so- i just thought that maybe i’d.. make a nickname for you as well?” i stuttered which made a smile appear on his face. it was softer than usual. “cute” was all he said. “so what’s my nickname?” i went back to thinking of one, “maybe.. seungie?” i heard him chuckle before he shook his head. “do you not like it? i can make up a new one-“ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “no, no. i like it” i watched him grab a towel and walk towards me with it. he turned his head, looking away from me while he held the towel out for me to grab. i stood up with water dripping from my body as i grabbed the towel out of his hand. i wrapped it around my body and stepped out of the bathtub. i brought my hand up and tapped on his shoulder, signaling for him to turn around. once he did, his eyes didn’t go straight to my body this time. maybe he wasn’t that much of a pervert as i thought. he grabbed my by my hand and walked me out of the bathroom and lead me all the way over to his bedroom. his room was huge, he even had a king sized bed. he handed me a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. “i should probably get you some new underwear..” he said while scratching the back of his neck. “this is okay for now” i reassured him. “thank you, seungie” he smiled before turning around again so that i could change into the pair of clothes he gave me. i started changing after the towel fell off my body and dropped onto the floor.

“we can try” he said out of nowhere. “what?” i asked, watching him turn around to look at me again. “you can stay up here. you’ll sleep in the same bed as me and you get to walk around the house freely” was he serious? all i wanted was to not be in that basement. i swear i’ve never been happier. “really? thank you-“ i was happy and excited until he suddenly stopped me. he placed his hand at the back of my head and pushed my face closer to his. “if you ever try to run away from me, ___. i’ll lock you in that basement forever. got it?” the fear that i didn’t notice had disappeared came right back at that moment. his words scared me, the way his voice sounded, it made me feel unsafe. i nodded slightly at his words as i was too scared to talk back to him. he smiled, patting my head before he took a few steps back. “i want you to know that i have cameras in every corner of this house, in case you were thinking of running away while i’m gone” the thought of running away actually hadn’t crossed my mind. i wouldn’t try to anyway, i’m too scared of what he’ll do to me. but what did he mean by when he’s gone? “while you’re gone?” i asked him with my eyebrows furrowed. “i usually leave the house everyday to go back to town” i knew it. when i looked out the window i wasn’t familiar with where we were. “how long does it take to get to town?” he looked at me in silence for a while, like he was debating on whether to tell me or not. “about an hour” he says. an hour? he definitely thought this through. even if i planned on escaping, there’s no chance i’d get home to safety in time before heeseung would get to me first. “get in bed. i’ll be right with you” i watched him walk out through the door and i was left alone in his bedroom. i sat myself down on his bed before moving the blanket to the side and pulling it over my body, placing my head down on the pillow after. i think the reason to why heeseung suddenly changed his mind about me not having to stay in the basement, was because i gained a little bit of his trust. if i continue being nice to him and follow his rules maybe there’s a chance i could leave the house one day. maybe i could go back to town and see my mom again, maybe even ningning? i was lost in my thoughts, but brought back quickly when i felt heeseung wrap his arms around my waist. i felt his bare chest against my back and his hot breath fanning over my neck. for some reason, the feeling was comforting. i didn’t feel scared.. i actually felt kinda safe in his arms.

i woke up the next day expecting heeseung to be asleep next to me, but to my surprise he wasn’t. i was confused, but i didn’t stress much about it since i had slept so good. i was sleeping on a hard cold floor for the past few days, finally sleeping in a bed was all i needed. i sat myself up and stretched my arms out in the air. i was about to get up before i noticed a note on the bedside table. did heeseung write it? i reached out, grabbing the note before i started reading it. “i’ve left to go back to town. i’ll be back soon, but in the meantime i expect you to be good. think of it as a test. i’ll be grading you based on the choices you make while i’m gone. i’ve also left something out for you in the kitchen” a test? he’ll be grading me? as long as i don’t try to leave everything will be fine, right? i placed the note back on the bedside table before i got up from bed, making my way over to the kitchen. i stopped in my tracks once i had entered the kitchen. i was surprised at what i saw, pancakes on a plate and a bowl of strawberries with a glass of orange juice. did he really prepare breakfast for me? i smiled before i took a seat and got right into eating. i was starving, so i couldn’t help myself. i mostly spent the rest of the day looking around the house. and i’m not gonna lie, looking through the windows made wanting to escape very tempting, but i didn’t take the chance.

what ___ didn’t know was that heeseung didn’t leave to go back to town, he was sat in his car parked not too far down the road. what was he doing? he was watching her every move through the cameras he had told her about. he wanted to know if he really could trust her, and maybe he actually could. he watched her wake up and eat the breakfast he prepared for her. she walked around the house, looked at a few stuff which didn’t bother heeseung at all. he noticed how she would stop by every window she walked past, and for a second there he thought she was planning on escaping, but she was just stood there looking out the window. he thought she’d at least open it for the fresh air, but she didn’t, and he slowly started gaining more trust for her. what heeseung couldn’t stop thinking about was last night, when ___ fell asleep. his hands would travel up and down her body, god knows how many times. he loved the feeling of his hands against her soft skin. but what heeseung couldn’t stop thinking of the most was when she would rub her ass against his bulge. he’d groan every time she did, but quite enough so he wouldn’t wake her. heeseung wanted to pull his dick out and start fucking her from behind in her sleep right there, but he managed to stop himself from doing so.

i was sat on the couch while some random movie was playing on the tv. i kept on looking at the clock as i watched the time pass by, when will heeseung come back? what a coincidence. right as i was thinking about him, i heard the front door unlock and i saw him walk in. he took his jacket off, placing it on the standing rack before he took his shoes off while i watched him patiently. he walked over to the couch where i was sat, he stood over me and looked down. i looked back up at him which made me kinda nervous since he was just standing there without saying a word. he brought his hand up next to my face and placed a strand of hair behind my ear. i gave him a small smile, he bit his lip in response. “i got you something, since you were a good girl and listened to me” he said and that’s when i noticed he was holding a jewelry box in his other hand. he sat down next to me on the couch before he placed it in my lap. at first, i thought it was the necklace he had given me that i threw away, but to my surprise it wasn’t. the second i opened it i felt tears start forming in my eyes. “how’d you get this..?” it was a necklace of mine that i lost a long time ago. it was from my mom, she gave it to me when i was a little girl and now that i’m seeing it again it’s only making me emotional. “i have my ways” he grabbed the necklace out of the jewelry box, moving my hair to the side before he helped me put it on. “thank you, seungie” my voice cracked due to the fact that i was literally about to start crying, i missed my mom. heeseung noticed i was getting upset and he seemed to actually care. “hey, don’t cry. you’re okay” i felt his hand stroking my thigh. i think he was trying to comfort me? “i want to see my mom..” i lowered my head as tears began rolling down my cheek. i only heard him let out a big sigh. he leaned back against the couch, running his hand through his hair. “___. you know i can’t allow that” he moved his hand away from my thigh and placed it on my back instead. he sat there with his leg bouncing while he was listening to my quiet sobs. “alright. listen, i’ll take you out tomorrow, yeah?” i lifted my head up, turning around to face him. “r-really..?” he cupped my face with both of his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumbs. “anything to make you happy, pretty” i took a moment to admire his features. he wasn’t bad after all, he was pretty attractive i’ll admit. but there was something about him that made me want to just.. without thinking straight, my lips were suddenly on his. i could tell he was shocked but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing me back. my hands were on his chest while his was still cupping my face. i was quick to pull away, why did i do that? “i’m sorry.. i don’t- i don’t know why i did ⠀ ⠀ that..-“ he shook his head at my words. “shh, don’t apologize” he started stroking my hair and i couldn’t help but to feel comfortable with him.

it was the next day and i was extremely excited to finally be able to leave the house. i was wearing the same clothes i wore the day heeseung took me, he had washed them for me to wear and told me he’d get me new clothes, which was nice of him. heeseung also didn’t want to leave during the daytime, he thought it’d be risky so now that it’s dark out we’re finally leaving. “you ready?” he asked me. “mhm!” he took my hand, leading me out through the front door. the second the fresh air hit me, i felt like i was alive again. he walked me to his car and opened the door for me. i got in, put my seatbelt on and so did he. heeseung was right, we had been driving for almost an hour now and during the whole ride the only thing i saw out the window were fields. i closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat “how long until we get there?” i asked him. “open your eyes, pretty” when i opened my eyes i looked around to see that we were finally back in town, i swear i had just closed my eyes a second ago. i wasn’t surprised when i barley saw anyone, it was late at night after all. he stopped by a convenience store before he parked the car. i was about to take my seatbelt off before he stopped me. “did i say you could get out of the car?” he said, his hand grabbing my hand that attempted to unbuckle the seatbelt. “i just thought that-“ “you’re lucky i even let you come all the way out here with me, i thought you appreciated it?” he raised his eyebrows at me, cocking his head to the side. “no, i do- i appreciate it..” i removed my hand from the seatbelt, leaning back into my seat. “good. stay here until i get back, got it?” he gripped at my chin which forced me to look at him eye to eye. i gave him a nod before he let go and got out of the car. i watched him walk into the convenience store as i was sat waiting for him to get back. was he at least gonna get me something? i should’ve asked for chocolate milk.. actually, i haven’t had sprite in a while- “___?” i jumped at the sound of knocking on the car window right next to me. who was that?

i cursed to myself when i took a closer look at the guy standing outside of heeseung’s car. “fuck.. is that jake?” jake is my ex boyfriend, i dated him for 1 year before he broke up with me. i’m not sure why he did.. i kept on waving my hand for him to leave, i didn’t want heeseung to see him trying to talk to me. “go away!” i whisper yelled at him. “what?” this guy i swear to god. i opened the door which accidentally hit him in his forehead. i closed the door behind me once i had gotten out of the car, jake mumbled an “ouch” while rubbing his forehead. “i told you to go away! are you deaf?” i tried to be quiet knowing heeseung could come out of the convenience store any second now. “where have you been? everyone’s been looking for you. i was worried” he was? i expected people to be looking for me, but i didn’t think he’d be worried about me. “i was-“ “___. i told you to stay in the car, didn’t i?” shit.. the sound of heeseung’s voice came from behind me. i felt his chest against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “jake” he said. “heeseung..” do they know each other or something? “so, you left town to be with heeseung..?” jake asked me. he looked confused and weirded out, which i didn’t understand why. “i-“ i felt heeseung squeeze my hip, i don’t think he wants me to talk.. “mind your business, sim” heeseung said glaring at him. “she can talk for herself” jake said glaring right back at heeseung. what was happening? “___. let me take you home” he attempted to grab me by my arm, but heeseung slapped his hand away. “don’t fucking touch her” he warned him. “she’s not your bitch man. come on-“ the second time heeseung tried grabbing my arm, heeseung pushed me to the side and unexpectedly he threw a punch at jake. i gasped at the sudden attack, why would he do that? “heeseung!” jake was already on the ground after the first punch, it didn’t help when heeseung kept on punching him repeatedly. “please stop! seungie..?” he stopped with his fist in the air, looking down at jake. “get in the car” he growled. “but-“ he got up so fast i didn’t even have the time to process it. he grabbed me harshly by my arms and looked me dead in the eye. “i said, get in the fucking car. now” the grip he had on my arms were so strong that i thought it’d leave a bruise. without saying a word, i opened the car door and got in quickly. my heart was racing at the way he had me so scared. i heard him open the trunk, and when i looked out the window i noticed how jake’s body was gone. was heeseung..? oh god. jake wasn’t dead was he? why else would heeseung place him in the trunk? i should’ve never opened the door for jake, this is all my fault. i flinched when heeseung slammed the door open, getting in the car before slamming the door shut again. “you’re gonna fucking regret this” he mumbled loud enough for me to hear. what did he mean by that..?

“please- seungie- i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to-“ i whimpered when my body hit the cold hard floor. i was back in the basement again, this wasn’t that i wanted. i didn’t even say anything to jake about heeseung, i didn’t even get the chance to tell him anything at all. heeseung took a good look at me before he slammed the door shut, locking me inside. i was all by myself and i hated it, there’s no way i’d gain his trust again. i felt my eyes slowly start closing by themselves, and before i knew it i was out of it.

meanwhile, heeseung had jake tied up in a chair while he was torturing him. heeseung hated jake. they used to be best friends, and jake knew about heeseung’s big crush on ___, but that didn’t stop him from dating her. all heeseung felt was rage, he wanted to just kill jake, but that would be too easy. he watched blood drip down his body as he cut him up. jake’s screams were muffled by the tape covering his mouth. “i told you to stay away from her. she’s mine” heeseung said, leaning down near jake’s tear stained face. “i’m gonna make this worse than death for you”

“wake up pretty..” huh? i struggled to open my eyes, had i just passed out? my back was hurting a lot, and so was the back of my head. when i finally opened my eyes, i saw heeseung towering over me. i reacted and sat up quickly, moving away from him. “don’t tell me you’re scared of me again. i thought you had warmed up to me? you know, since you kissed me and all” he said, crouching down in front of me. “w-what did you do.. to jake..?” i asked him, barley even able to get my words out properly. “what did i do to jake.. i don’t know. would you like to see for yourself?” he reached his hand out for me to grab as he smiled creepily down at me. i wanted to know if jake was okay, so i placed my shaky hand in his, letting him help me up and lead me out of the basement. he brought me to this room i had never seen before, i wonder how i missed it. he paused in front of the closed door before he turned to me. “i can tell you’re scared already, and i wouldn’t want to scare you even more. prepare yourself for what you’re about to see, pretty” i furrowed my eyebrows, watching him slowly open the door. heeseung let me walk in first, and the second i stepped foot in that room i looked back right away. i covered my mouth in disgust at what i had just seen. “oh my fucking god..” i mumbled to myself. heeseung ran his hands up and down my back as i practically hid my face in his chest. “told you” he said. “look at him again” he leaned down and whispered in my ear. i shook my head, feeling like i was about to throw up. “i can’t.. i- i feel sick” i said with my face still hid in his chest. “you feel sick?” he chuckled. there was blood everywhere. jake had been cut up and his wounds were so bad and graphic it made me sick to my stomach. “please.. seungie- he needs to go to a hospital” i said, looking up at heeseung who was already looking down at me. “you mean to tell me that you want him to live? after he dumped you? after he stole you from me?” he was getting angry, i could tell. “no- just, please.. i won’t do anything like that ever again, i promise. i don’t need to leave the house, i can stay in the basement, just don’t let him die- please, seungie. i don’t care because it’s jake-“ “then why do you care?” i didn’t even know what i was saying, i just kept on begging and begging without thinking. “if he dies then.. it’ll be in your hands. i don’t want them to take you away from me..” did i really mean that? i don’t know. i just needed jake to get out of here and go to a hospital. heeseung didn’t say anything, he just looked at me like he was processing what i had just said. he walked past me and made his way over to jake. i wanted to look back, but i didn’t want to see jake again. “if you tell anyone about this. i will find you and fucking kill you” i heard heeseung tell him. “pretty, will you leave the room for just a second?” he didn’t have to ask me twice, i left the room as fast as i could, leaving heeseung and jake alone. was he gonna let jake go? was he gonna kill him? was he gonna continue torturing him? i didn’t know what to think.

it had been about 30 minutes and i was anxiously sitting on heeseung’s bed. i kept on bouncing my leg as i waited and waited until i finally heard the door opening. “seungie..?” he started walking my towards me and i noticed how he had blood on his hands and his shirt. he didn’t kill jake.. did he? shit shit shit. “i did what you asked for” wait, what? “you let him go..?” he simply just nodded. i let out a sigh in relief, thank god. but wait- “you’re not gonna leave the house and you’ll stay in the basement, yeah? that’s what you promised” maybe i shouldn’t have said exactly that.. i really didn’t like being in that basement. and i’d like to leave the house once in a while, i can’t be locked up in here forever. “i know..” i said, still sat on his bed. “get up then” he took a step forward so he was stood in between my legs. “i- i wanted to sleep with you..” i slowly looked up at him and saw a smirk on his lips. “alright. i’ll let you sleep with me, but i need something from you first” he pressed my back onto the bed before he leaned down, hovering over me. his face was dangerously close to mine, and before i knew it he had smashed his lips onto mine. forget passionately, he was being really aggressive with me. i think it’s because he was still mad.

his hands travelled to the ends of my top before pulling it over my head. he unclipped my bra fast and threw it away somewhere on the floor. his hand instantly went to one of my breasts, squeezing it and rubbing my nipple with his thumb. he wrapped his mouth around my other nipple, swirling his tongue around before he bit down on it making me whimper, and he groaned when i did. his hand left my breast and instead went down to the hem of my skirt before pulling it down along with my panties, he was quick with it. i looked down to see him unbuckling his belt which made me nervous. this was gonna be my first time, and he wasn’t being very gentle. he lowered his sweatpants together with boxers revealing his huge dick that was red with pre-cum. my eyes widened at the sight of it, i wasn’t sure if i could take that, it looks like it would hurt a lot. “seungie..” “shh. don’t worry, pretty. i’ll make you feel good” he shushed me and placed a kiss on my lips. not knowing how any of this works, i thought he was gonna get right into it, but i was confused when i felt his fingers going up and down my slit. “shit.. you’re soaked. is all of this for me? hm?” i let out a “mhm” which sounded exactly like a moan. i gasped when he slipped in not one finger, but two at the same time. i arched my back and moaned when he started pumping his fingers in and out of me. “can’t even take my fingers..” he scoffed. i felt him curl his fingers as his movements started growing faster. while he was busy fingering me, he went down to kiss me again. i whined into his mouth when he slipped his tongue past my lips. i tried pulling away, i don’t know why, but it resulted in him grabbing me by my chin, forcing me to kiss him back. when i felt the heat growing in my stomach, i managed to pull away from the kiss. “i’m gonna cum..-“ he was quick to pull his fingers out of me the second i told him i was about to release. “not yet, pretty. need you to cum around my cock” he repositioned us, placing me down on his lap. he placed his arms on my waist and that’s when i remembered the blood he had on his hands. did he just finger me with jake’s blood on his fingers. i looked down at myself to see how he had smeared his blood over my chest, waist and pussy. i felt disgusted and dirty, but heeseung didn’t seem to care.

“look at me” he said, tapping his finger under my chin. when i looked up at him i suddenly felt his tip pressing at my entrance. his grip on my waist tightened, “you ready?” i nodded even tho i definitely wasn’t ready. “this might hurt, but you’ll be okay” i swallowed nervously before i felt him slowly pushing my hips down on his hardened length. i squeezed my eyes shut at the feeling, it was burning. i gripped onto his shoulders as my walls tightened around him. “almost there.. you’re doing so good” he whispered into my ear. god, i felt so full and he wasn’t even all the way in yet. it was definitely too much, i couldn’t handle it. “there we go. good girl” he said pressing a kiss to my cheek. i was fully sat down on his cock and he was big, way too big. “seungie, you’re too b-big..” i whimpered, hiding my face in the crook of his neck. “i know. i’ll make you feel good, yeah?” he lifted me up slowly allowing me to adjust to the overwhelming feeling. he pushed me all the way back down letting a loud moan escape from my mouth. he started bouncing me up and down, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. he threw his head back in a groan as he snapped his hips up to meet mine. “a-ah.. seungie.. t-too much” the pain was completely gone, all i could feel was pleasure. “shit. take it” i heard him curse under his breath. he slams me down harder making all of it too much for me to handle. i bit down on his shoulder and he didn’t seem to mind, considering how he let out a moan when i did. “gonna fill you up and- shit.. so fucking tight” once again, i felt the heat growing in my stomach. the both of us let out loud pornographic moans as we both finish at the same time. i felt his warm cum filling me up, painting my insides white as i came around his cock. he pulls me in closer and places a kiss on my forehead when i tremble around him. my face still hid in his neck as i catch my breath, i feel him grab me by my chin forcing me to look at him. “you did so good, pretty” he pulled me in for a kiss, this time it was slow and passionate. with me still on top of him, sat on his cock as his cum slowly spills out of me, he lays down pulling the blanket over us. “get some rest now, okay?” i hum, placing a kiss on his neck before i drift off to sleep.

taglist: @simjungwon @flowerlvrs-blog (lmk if u want to be tagged)

[starry-eyedblog]

Flying with the guys from task 141!

here are some random headcanons of what they are like flying. there are two where the reader is the anxious flyer and two where the reader helps calm the anxious flyer!! i was on a plane earlier so it inspired me to make this :3

simon -

he’s a seasoned flyer so he’s not anxious at all. he just gets on the plane and instantly puts his headphones on, zoning out because he’s so used to the demonstrations from the stewards

he notices the frantic eyes and bouncing leg of you next to him so he slips his headphones off and asks “first time?”

he tells you how low the chance of crashing is, how he flies so often and nothing has ever happened

let’s you hold his hand during take off because you are almost crying from anxiety

because he’s so fucking tall and big he cannae help but man spread, his legs pressing to yours and his arm pressing against yours on the arm rest

he means well though, he’s apologetic about it and grumbles about how tiny airplanes are and how they aren’t built for people like him

soon enough you fall asleep and your head rests on simons shoulder. he doesnae mind it one bit and let’s you sleep, making sure the stewards don’t wake you up with questions about wanting any drinks or food

kyle -

he is the one who’s nervous, his hands gripping the arm rests before take off

poor thing throws up into the paper bag after taking off

you smile sweetly at him and offer him a sweet to suck on so it will help with his ears popping which he gratefully takes

he is stuck to your side after that, trying to avoid looking out of the window too much

you ask him questions and distract him, smiling softly at him and he thinks he’ll be safe since theres obviously an angel on board with him

you convince him to watch a movie while sharing a blanket and he finally is able to relax and laugh

at some point you fall asleep with your head resting on his shoulder and he is so so careful to make sure he doesn’t wake you up

price -

he’s very relaxed, leisurely takes his time getting comfy in his seat and making sure he has a book laid out and ready

he doesn’t pay much mind to who’s beside him until he sees how nervous the person in the middle is, you

you explains that you’ve never flew before and price pats your thigh with a warm smile “you’ll be alright kid.”

he orders a beer once the plane takes off and offers to buy you a drink. “drink will calm your nerves love” he tells you with a cheeky smile

makes conversation with you to help keep your mind distracted. asks about work and your life, where you are flying to and why before he tells you where he’s off to

he falls asleep after an hour or two, snoring lightly and his head falls onto your shoulder. you blush softly but let him rest while you watch a film

he defo makes some flirty jokes after he wakes up as he realises how he slept on your shoulder

johnny -

he likes to play tough guy, says he’s fine but at takeoff he’s grabbing your hand so tightly on the arm rest you worry he’ll cut off the circulation

you laugh softly and tell him it’s okay to be nervous, that you were like that when you flew for the first time

anytime there’s turbulence he lets out a squeak and reaches for you (it’s adorable)

you share audio through your own headphones by syncing them up to your phone and listen to music together to help calm his nerves

soon enough he’s feeling pretty calmed down, until he looks out the window and almost shits himself when he remembers how high you guys are

after awhile of listening to music together he’s asleep, your presence calming him down immensely and he’s snoring into your shoulder, holding your hand tightly

when he wakes up he’s blushing red, apologising profusely and you laugh, shrugging him off

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Oh f#ck I am kinda relived , thank you so much(I was scared that I sended something stupid)😌

If so, It was the Part 3 of Searing Pain btw. (I just can't stop loving how well you captured characters's emotions there.)

Searing Pain: Part 3

Yandere Ace and Luffy x Reader

3.8k words

Part 1 / Part 2

Recovery from any injury was never easy, but for someone suffering your given injuries, it was grueling. 

Pain had been expected. Between the broken ribs, absent lung, and the patched up hole in your chest, it was a given that you were going to be in agony for a while. Regardless of that, you were doing your best to remain active. It’s only been a few days since you woke up, but you’ve been able to get up and walk around. With help. Luffy’s help, specifically. 

Ever since Chopper encouraged you to get up and be active to aid in your recovery and lessen the chance of blood clots, Luffy put it upon himself to be your personal helper. If you were being completely honest, you had been hesitant to accept his help initially. Not because you didn’t trust him, of course you did, but you questioned how capable he was of being gentle enough to not hurt you more.

All of your concerns had proven themselves to be incorrect. Luffy has been ridiculously careful with you. It’s like seeing a whole new side of him. You need to get up? Don’t worry, Luffy will help you stand. Need to sit back down? He’ll help with that, too. Need literally anything? He’ll get it for you. Usually without even leaving your side thanks to his devil fruit powers.

As flattering as it is that he cares about you enough to be helping you this much, it was odd to see him being this serious. While he was still showing his typical goofy attitude in some respects, there was always this air of vigilance that accompanied his every action. He would study your face every time you moved and would fling himself to your side if you so much as made a noise on the rare occasion that he had stepped away.

It’s not like there weren’t other people that could help you. The rest of your crewmates were all capable of and eager to assist you in any way you need, but Luffy wouldn’t give them the opportunity. He can help you walk and eat, and he keeps an eye on you while you sleep, so it’s fine. He’s got it covered! He even tried to help you go to the bathroom, and it had been an uphill battle to convince him that you could at least do that part on your own.

That effort had all been in vain. Just because you managed to get him to wait outside didn’t mean that he wouldn’t damn near break the door down when he saw fit. Which he did when you hissed in pain while trying to stand up after finishing your business. Your pants had still been down, much to your mortification, but at least he hadn’t commented on that part.

Outside of that embarrassing ordeal, you did appreciate his help. Walking on your own was still an impossibility, Chopper had made that clear by stressing how devastating a fall could be for you right now. Franky had thrown together a walker for you, but it wasn’t needed. Luffy had taken that role upon himself. A good thing, too, given that the walker vanished not long after it was built.

Luffy was shockingly patient with how slow your pace was. He’s standing next to you with one arm reaching around you and holding your hip to keep you balanced, while the other hand is holding your own and supporting the bulk of your weight. His steps matched yours and his eyes were boring into you, looking for any hint of discomfort on your face. Beyond the usual amount, at least.

“Hey! I can see Ace’s boat!” Usopp called out from the crow’s nest. “And it looks like there’s two people on board, one of them has to be the doctor!”

Both you and Luffy looked to where Usopp was pointing. Sure enough, there was a small boat on the horizon. It was much too far for you to be able to make it out personally, but you trusted Usopp’s eyesight to be accurate.

Luffy’s hands flexed, and he kept looking back and forth between you and Ace’s approaching figure. You gave his hand a squeeze, “You should go over and wait for him, I’m sure you’re excited to see Ace again.”

“You want to see him again, too. We can wait together.” Without giving you a chance to respond, he began gently guiding you to turn.

“You should go by yourself. I need to sit down again. Now, preferably.” Fatigue was hitting you hard. A side effect that you had not been as prepared for. After even just a little bit of activity you would find yourself feeling winded and needing to lie down. You’re pretty sure you’ve been taking more naps than Zoro lately.

At your stating of needing to rest, Luffy’s eyes shot wide with panic. He whipped his head around frantically before spotting an empty chair across the deck. Using the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he stretched his arm over to grab it. Wooden legs dragged over the floorboards as it was yanked this way. The second it was in place, Luffy wasted no time helping you to sit. It was a slow process, but he never once rushed you through it.

With you now seated, Luffy hesitated briefly before finally going to the side of the ship that Ace was approaching.

Cautiously, you slumped against the back of the chair. You hadn’t been walking for long but it felt like you’d just returned from a lengthy journey. Chopper assured you that this was a normal symptom for your condition. Without one of your lungs, you were getting half as much oxygen as your body was used to. Fatigue was to be expected until your body could adjust to the major change.

A nap sounded great right about now, but if Ace had brought that doctor with him then he would most likely want to speak with you and not wait a couple of hours for you to come to again. 

Your hand drifted up to your head and pulled the hat off of it. The brim of the straw hat scratched against your fingers as they ghosted over it. Luffy still hasn’t taken it back since he left it with you when you were still unconscious. Seeing him without his hat for so long was odd to say the least. Granted, it’s not like he was far from it at any given moment since he was attached at your hip, but it was a surprising gesture on his part regardless.

Even though you couldn’t see Ace’s boat from your seated position, you could definitely still hear it coming. Striker was not a particularly stealthy ship. The roar of the engine was growing louder and louder by the second, it wouldn’t be long before he was here. Him, and the doctor.

The doctor most likely being Marco the Phoenix. You don’t know him personally, but you’ve seen bounty posters and heard tell of his feats. From the sound of it, he was as much a fierce fighter as he was a skilled doctor. You could only hope that he was a miracle worker with the severity of your injury. Not that you wouldn’t be appreciative of any help he gave you. It’s just that… Your life as a pirate is strongly hinged on him being able to fix your lung situation. 

Just as the rumble of Striker’s engine was starting to become grating, it stopped. 

A few of your other crewmates rushed over to where the boat was being docked to greet the duo. Chopper was notably excited to be able to talk to another doctor, especially one held in such high regard.

While you were eager to find out what Marco could do for you, you were also nervous about the possibility that what he could do for you wouldn’t be enough. You willed yourself to look away and put Luffy’s hat back on your head.

The sound of two people clambering up the side of the ship followed by the chattering of your crew tempted you into glancing over. 

Ace stood out to you immediately. Everyone had assured you that he had gotten away from the battle unscathed, but being able to see with your own eyes that he was safe truly took the worries off your mind. You made eye contact with him, and he grinned broadly while slipping past the small crowd that had gathered.

“It’s good to see you awake.” Ace came to a stop right next to you. His smile faltered as his hands hovered over you, visibly unsure of where to place them. Deciding that your torso was too high risk, he settled for holding one of your hands in both of his. “Sorry I didn’t stick around to see you wake up, but I wanted to get Marco over here as soon as possible.” His eyes flickered down to the visible bandages underneath your shirt, “So… How are you feeling?”

Like the fragmented remains of a landmine.

“I’ve… been better, but it’s not so bad. Everyone has been taking great care of me. Especially Luffy.” This was probably a better response than the one in your mind. There was no use in making him feel sorry for you when it seemed he already was.

At the mention of his brother’s name, Ace’s smile returned, “I’m not surprised. He promised to stay by your side until you were better, and he’s serious about his promises.” He leaned forward and flicked the brim of Luffy’s hat, “I am a little surprised he’s still letting you wear this, though.”

“That makes two of us,” you readjusted the hat to keep it from falling off. You contemplated asking about the promise Ace just mentioned. This was the first you were hearing of it. That would definitely explain his dedication to you. Who had prompted that discussion. Did Ace make Luffy promise or did Luffy come up with the idea on his own?

“You must be (Y/N).”

The question you had was going to have to wait. You look over to the source of the voice and see Marco for the first time. His posture is relaxed as he looks down at you, likely expecting an answer.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Marco,” you returned his smile and held out your hand to shake his.

“That would be correct,” he gently clasps your hand and gives it a brief shake before flipping it over and pressing two fingers against the pulse point on your wrist. He mutters ‘a little high’ before shifting his attention back to you, “Would you like to have our appointment now or do you need to rest?”

You could absolutely use some sleep, or even just a longer opportunity to sit down, but you wanted to get this done as soon as possible. You can’t wait any longer to find out if he can find a way to repair your lung. Or lack thereof. 

“I’m okay, let’s do this now.” It dawned on you that he may be tired after being on Striker for who knows how long, “If you’re okay with that, that is. I don’t mind waiting if you want some rest after traveling all the way here.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” He nudges Ace out of the way and holds out his arms to you, “Here, let me help you up.”

Before you can accept his help, Luffy crashes into him, “I can do that!”

Marco, much to your surprise, barely budges from the human battering ram. He looks over his shoulder at Luffy with a raised brow, appearing more so amused than anything else, “I appreciate your offer, but I would like to use this as a chance to see how their recovery is coming along.”

“Then just watch me help them, you don’t need to do it.” Luffy, never one to be deterred easily, stands his ground.

Ace clamped a hand onto Luffy’s shoulder and pulled him back, “It’ll be for the best to let Marco do this. Don’t worry so much, they’re in good hands with him. How about you stay here with me and we can catch up?”

Luffy scowled, “(Y/N) isn’t better yet, I’m going with them.”

The disagreement was only escalating, so you cut in, “I’ll be okay, Luffy. Why don’t you relax for a bit?” You pull his hat from your head and hold it out to him, “Do you want this back?” Maybe he’s getting anxious about being away from his prized possession?

The offer seems to be borderline offensive to Luffy. He snatches the hat out of your hand only to firmly place it back on your head in a way that it completely covers your eyes. “No, you keep it.” 

By the time you push the brim of the hat up enough to be able to see again, Luffy and Ace are walking away, though the former looks to be dragging his feet. You cringe internally and hope that you didn’t genuinely upset him.

“Your captain is awfully protective of you,” Marco notes.

He can say that again. You nod, “He’s been like this since I got hurt.”

“Well, now that he isn’t here, let’s see what I can do about that injury of yours.” Marco’s hands find yours and he waits for you to make the first move to stand.

You’re eager to get this over with, so you only take a couple of seconds to brace yourself before beginning the arduous task of getting onto your feet. The instant you sit up, your chest suffers a stab of pain as muscles tug on the wound and you wince.

“Take your time.”

You nodded but kept pushing forward. Now that you were upright, you planted your feet on the ground as best as you could and slowly lifted your body off the chair. All the while your hands were gripping onto Marco’s like he was your lifeline, which he may very well be at this point. Every movement and twitch of your shoulders pulled on your chest wound and you had to bite back the urge to scream. Something you’ve learned to do very well over the course of the last few days.

Marco studied you intensely, taking in every little reaction you had. Once you were finally on your feet, he paused and allowed you to catch your breath. A task easier said than done. “I-I’m sorry, just give me a minute. Please.”

“There’s no rush, don’t force yourself on my behalf. You’re doing very well,” he assured you.

This really did not feel like “doing very well”, but who were you to argue with him? This would typically be the point where you lean forward and rest some of your weight onto Luffy, but you didn’t know Marco well enough to be able to assume that he would be okay with you doing that.

Your breathing was about as good as it was going to get, “Okay. I’m okay. Let’s go.”

Luckily for you, the infirmary wasn’t far from where you were previously seated. Once you were properly up on your feet, walking wasn’t too hard on you. It was just the act of getting there and your rapidly decreasing stamina that got in the way. 

Unluckily for you, you needed to be laid down once you got to the infirmary. It was even worse than sitting up since it required much more movement in your torso. Marco did everything he could to ease you back onto it, but you were still on the verge of tears by the time you were fully settled onto the bed. Luffy’s hat was placed on the bedside table for the time being.

Marco stepped away from the bed and rummaged around Chopper’s desk, pulling out some papers. He didn’t spend long reading over them before dropping it onto the desk and grabbing a stethoscope. He returned to the bed and sat down next to you.

The chestpiece was lightly pressed against where your remaining lung was and he asked you to breathe in and out a couple of times. You did just that. Every breath ached, but you’ve gotten used to it the last few days. The chestpiece was moved to the other side of your chest and you were asked to repeat the action again. You aren’t entirely sure what he’s expecting to hear over there, but again, what would you know?

It would seem he found whatever he was looking for and the stethoscope was discarded. His hands hovered over your ribcage, “I’m going to check your ribs, please let me know where it hurts at.”

You nodded and his hands began tracing over each rib. It didn’t take long for you to flinch and say, “Right there.” The process was repeated on every affected rib. All of them hurt and you said as much. Fortunately, Marco was extremely careful so it wasn’t anywhere near as painful as it could have been.

“I need to look at the wound now, so I have to unbutton your shirt. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Whatever he was going to see from undoing your shirt was nothing compared to the Luffy-bathroom-incident. You would live.

Marco made quick work of the buttons, then came the bandages. Rather than sitting you up again to unravel them, he pulled out a pair of scissors and cut through them instead. An act of mercy in your humble opinion. 

You trained your eyes on the ceiling, not at all wanting to see the wound. “Am I going to need to roll over so you can see the exit wound on my back?” You really hope he doesn’t.

There’s a brief bout of silence as he examines the now exposed hole in your chest. A choking level of stress builds in your chest at the mere idea of how uncomfortable and painful rolling over will be.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Seeing this is enough for me to work with.” Marco leaned back, “So, do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Your heart fell into your stomach at the knowledge of there being bad news. He hadn’t told you anything yet and you already wanted to scream and cry. “Give me the good news first,” you needed at least a little bit of time to mentally prepare yourself for the bad.

 “The good news is that I can heal your broken ribs and the wound today. It’ll take some time and we’ll have to break up the sessions so as to not shock your system, but I’m confident that we can have this healed up nicely by the end of the day.” He offered you a smile, but you could see that even he wasn’t happy about what he was going to say next.

“And the bad news?” You wanted to rip the bandaid off and have it be behind you.

“There is nothing I can do about your lung. My ability to heal others is much more limited than my ability to heal myself, recreating your absent lung is beyond my capabilities. I’m sorry.”

His words hung in the air heavily, and you were trying desperately to not start crying. The efforts were all in vain, and you quickly found that you couldn’t keep it in. Frustrated tears bullied their way out of your eyes and poured down your face as the gravity of your situation hit you hard.

This was it. This was the end of your time with the Straw Hat pirates. Your body was permanently changed in a horrible way that you would never recover from.

“I know that this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but not everything is bad. With some breathing exercises and practice you’ll be able to lead a normal life.” Marco tried to comfort you, but his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Wh-What am I supposed to do now? I can’t be a pirate anymore if I can barely breathe right! I-I’m just going to be dead weight!” You gasped for breath as all of your bottled up fears burst out of you. Your chest burned and throbbed from the activity, begging for you to stop but you couldn’t.

“No one is saying that you can’t. Who knows, maybe you’ll make a miraculous recovery and surprise yourself,” Marco attempted to ease your worries.

“What are the odds of that?” You asked bitterly.

Marco didn’t answer immediately. It seemed like he didn’t have one. Instead, he placed his hands over your chest wound and wisps of blue fire spread across the area. The flames were warm, not hot. An uncomfortable sensation filled your chest and muscle fibers were forced to regrow faster than they should be able to. You chose to close your eyes and try to ignore it.

After a few minutes of this, the fire dispersed and Marco pulled away. You glance down and see that the hole is very much still there, though noticeably more shallow. Marco stood from the bed and searched for some new bandages to cover what was still exposed. 

“You know,” he started, “if you would be interested, perhaps I could make more progress with you if I had more time.”

“What do you mean?” Was he planning on staying here for a longer time?

He returned with a roll of bandages and motioned for you to get ready to sit up. You did so begrudgingly, but were surprised to find the experience not as painful as it previously was. It still hurt, but at a much more manageable level.

“I can’t stay here very long, but if you were to come back with us to the Moby Dick, I may be able to make more progress with your recovery. I can’t guarantee that I’ll ever find a perfect fix for your condition, but if you don’t think you’ll be able to stay with your crew as you are now, then what would be the harm in relocating for a while?” Marco efficiently begins wrapping the bandages around where the injury is.

The proposition leaves you speechless. Could you… Could you do that? Would it truly be okay for you to leave your crew behind for another one, even if it was just temporarily? What would Luffy think? He didn’t even want to let you have this appointment by yourself, how would he react to you actually leaving? 

Sensing your hesitation, Marco continues, “We won’t leave until tomorrow, you have time to mull over this decision.” The bandages are pulled tight and tied in a knot. “I know that Ace would be happy to have you there, I can send him in to talk to you if you would like.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m exhausted and would like to sleep for a while if that’s alright.” At this point, you don’t know if it’s your lack of stamina or stress that is wearing you out. What you do know is that you need some time alone to unpack all of this.

As well as to make a decision. 

[froggibus]

Pride - Soldier 76, Pharah, Baptiste, Tracer, Venture & Lifeweaver

Pairings: Soldier 76 x gn! reader, Pharah x gn! reader, Baptiste x gn! reader, Tracer & Emily x gn! reader, Venture x gn! reader, Lifeweaver x gn! reader

Genre: fun fluffy hcs

Summary: how it would be going to pride w your queer fav

CW: nonspecific relationship w the heroes, canon sexualities/genders, lots of fun pride stuff, pride festival, Soldier being an old man

sorry hi i know pride month is over but i really wanted to include it in our event so here it is! i really wanted to include lucio & other fun characters here but it was so much writing i only did the ones who are canonically queer!

This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

Soldier 76:

not his first Pride, won’t be his last

he’s probably a little wistful the whole time, since he last attended with Vincent

his grumpy old man demeanor drops for a day and he actually lets himself enjoy it

all the young people there LOVE him and he ends up ‘adopting’ at least three kids

reminisces the whole time and probably says “back in my day” at least once

you may have to convince him to actually indulge in fun stuff like temp tattoos and flags

but then he gets SUPER into it and drags you around to get as much stuff as possible

gets hit on at least once by someone half his age and his face is an INFERNO for like ten minutes afterwards

wants to get drinks and appetizers at a bar after and chat about your day

will let you take one (1) picture of the two of you to commemorate it

(he’ll definitely keep the picture in his wallet—but he’ll never tell you)

Pharah:

not her first Pride either, but she doesn’t go very often cause she’s married to her work

wears her sexy ass leather jacket even though it’s probably boiling outside

“Fareeha you’re going to boil in that”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is my summer leather”

gets one temp tattoo of the lesbian flag on her cheek and that’s it for her

shows it off in every single picture the two of you take together 

doesn’t take many of her own pictures but will indulge you for every one of yours

her strong ass will let you ride on her shoulders to see any performances you want

or if you’re not cool with that, she has no shame and will body her way through the crowd to help you get a better view

loves fruity rainbow drinks and will always have one in her hand

wears her aviators even after the sun goes down

definitely checks if Baptiste is doing anything & tries to set up a rendezvous with him at a club later

she is THE most fun to party with if you’re able to pry her away from her work

Baptiste:

more than likely his first Pride  (at least, since he’s been out of the closet)

probably ended up attending a few before and hanging out in the med tent as an ally

if he wasn’t going with you, Pharah would’ve 10000% taken him with her

super excited to be taking you with him this year 

and to actually be partaking in the celebrations

covers both of you in those cute rainbow temporary tattoos

like they’re EVERYWHERE

total mom friend—he has water, tylenol & advil, wet wipes, snacks, sunscreen & anything else you could possibly need

that doesn’t mean he’s not indulging in any fun colourful drinks at the bars later tho

indulges in any free things offered with him

and totally ends the day with like ten different friendship bracelets

wants to take pictures of EVERYTHING and ends up with a million selfies of the two of you

you’re out from 11am to 3am & you bet your ass he’s waking you up at noon the next day for brunch

wants to go next year & hand out little care bags to everyone you meet

Tracer:

her and Emily insist on taking you with them

they go every year so long as Lena isn’t working (rare)

they (Emily) have got everything figured out, so you can just chill and come along with them

Lena totally goes all out with her outfits & insists you all match somehow

they bring a digital camera to take lots & lots of pictures of everything

prepare to be outside from dawn till dusk

Lena probably gets recognized a few times and takes pictures with every person who asks

she buys a TON of memorabilia and will absolutely buy anything you look at for you

even tho she’s probably tried everything they have to offer, she wants to make sure you also try it

Emily has to stop and remind her to slow down and to eat/drink

they have some cute tradition where they go to the restaurant they want to on their first date & have some drinks and appetizers

even tho it’s their thing, they’ll gladly invite you along & make sure you’re included

and if you’re into it, Lena will absolutely try to play matchmaker for you so you’re not lonely

Venture:

huge dork ass LOVES Pride

they’re a little awkward cause of the big crowds & stuff, but deep down they thrive on it

not nearly as out there with their outfit as Tracer, but they’ll definitely dress according to theme

makes their own little bags of crystals to give out to friends they make there + coordinates them according to different pride flags

makes an extra special one for you too to thank you for coming with them

buys ice cream whenever they see a stand & offers to share with you 

at least one child asks them if they’re a boy or a girl

Sloan just shrugs at them

despite their awkwardness, everybody you meet there LOVES Sloan & they end the day with a million different pins + friendship bracelets

anytime there’s something cool, they want to take a pic with you in front of it

even just random fountains and stuff

if someone’s performing, they HAVE to go and at least check it out, but you’ll probably get dragged into watching a long ass magic show

they might take you for a drink and a snack after, but they’re not the type to go to a club or anything

more than likely they want to have a game night or marathon some movies at home to unwind afterwards

Lifeweaver:

not his first Pride, but the first one he’s been able to enjoy since leaving Vishkar

the most well dressed & insists on dressing you as well

weaves flowers & plants through his hair to make a pretty rainbow (and will do the same for you if you ask!)

lots & lots of biodegradable glitter that he made himself

wants to get there super early to offer his aid to any of the med stations set up & give them his number incase they need him

brings his own biodegradable confetti and gives bags to all the stands to hand out

loves live performances & wants to attend each one

he WILL be dancing and expects you to dance with him, no matter how awkward you feel

usually the best at remembering his sunscreen & water but probably forgets until he starts to feel the effects

wants to stay until everything shuts down and make sure everything is cleaned up correctly

so many pictures that your face will hurt from smiling for the cameras by the end of the day

his Instagram story is probably filled with those same pics

if anyone compliments his hair, he WILL offer to braid theirs with flowers for them on the spot

takes you out to a nice dinner before you guys go home

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[indecisivekitty]

To Undoing The Past

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 930 (i think but idk i got that adhd memory)

genre: angst…(?)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, avoidant man 😔, is that it? idk it’s 1am lmk

He doesn’t understand love.

The concept and the entirety of it. He doesn’t understand what it is. What it looks like. What it feels like.

He thinks if he was a better person or if he had a better life that he’d finally understand. That he’d be able to fully reciprocate what you feel for him. You love him and he knows that, you constantly remind him of the fact. He’ll feel a tightening in his chest and nod before giving you a kiss on your head without saying a word. He’ll hold you close and mull over those three words before locking it in a box and throwing it somewhere deep in his mind.

Simon is at a loss when you’re sat on your bed with your knees pulled tight to your chest after you told him you were pregnant.

What’s the next step?, he wonders, what am I s’pose to do now?

He thinks that maybe he should marry you and move into a house with you. It makes sense. But he isn’t sure what to say as you stare at him while he stands a few feet away from you.

A part of him wants to walk away and leave. No warning or response to the news either. That part of him wants to pretend he didn’t hear what you said and disappear from your life. How can he be a dad when he wasn’t blessed with that from his shitty father growing up?

“Simon?”

Your voice interrupts his line of thinking.

You swallow anxiously. “I know that this isn’t… ideal, let alone planned but I just wanted to say that I’m keeping the baby.”

Simon felt himself grinding his teeth before he willed himself to stop. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he be normal and feel what ordinary people felt? He gave a slight nod. “Okay.”

Your knees slid away from your chest, making you sit normally on the bed. “Okay? Simon what does okay mean in this situation?”

He leans on the wall closest to him while he pockets his hands. “Just okay.”

He notes the way you narrow your eyes and look away from him. He wishes he could better himself for you more easily. He frowns, maybe he did love you? He still doesn’t know what anything he feels means.

This all started from a one night stand from a bar meeting and was meant to stay that way, really. But after that night, he couldn’t resist replying to your messages after exchanging numbers and he couldn’t help but itch to call you every few hours.

A year of this going on is what exactly? Simon couldn’t say you were his girlfriend because he never asked but the two of you only saw each other. So what then?

Then came to when you first said, “I love you.”

It was quiet around when it happened, he wasn’t suppose to hear it and you hadn’t meant to say it aloud. You two were in Southport though he can’t remember why. Something about a beach? He just recalls how the both of you drank and how you were getting more tipsy as time went by.

It was sunset and he wasn’t looking at anything particular before you said it. You were staring at him with the biggest smile on your face with crinkled eyes while the wind disturbed bits of your hair.

He thought you were beautiful.

But hearing those words made him freeze. Something inside him plummeting while he searched your face. Your eyes widened suddenly before a hand flew to your mouth. You looked away from him. But Simon couldn’t help but stare at you even as you were turned away from him in embarrassment.

He looks at you now and still thinks about how beautiful you look. He wasn’t sure how worthy of love he was but somehow you were convincing that he was. And that he was deserving of your love. Maybe this news was what he needed to wake up more. He is unsure of that still.

He pushes off the wall to crouch in front of you, one of his hands hovering above your knee in hesitation before he sets it down and tries to reassure you with his thumb rubbing in circles. “I’m sorry,” he starts, his throat feeling tight. Apologies aren’t a normalcy for him. “I want to do this with you. ‘Ave this baby, I mean.”

Reaching up with his free hand to caress your face, he spoke softly, “I think I’m falling in love with you or at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. If anything, I would like to learn how. ‘Specially for our kid.”

He watched the silent tears cascading down your face and wiped them before holding your face with both hands.

He exhaled gruffly. “Been a real fucking asshole to you. Johnny talks my fucking ear off time to time about the way I act. Or shit I did or didn’t do.”

Your hands grabbed his wrists gently. “Si-“

He shushed you before continuing, “No, love, listen. Got a long list of shit I have to make up for before this kid gets here and I can’t waste more time then I already ‘ave.”

A smile finds its way on your face, a laugh leaving you despite the tears and stuffy nose. Rubbing his wrists with your thumb, you joked, “You should go to weekly therapy. Two times a week even.”

“Done.”

“It was mostly a joke.”

“Fuck if I care, did you not hear what I said?”

a/n: i didn’t plan to make it long but a song inspired me and then i kept writing and i’m tired and so this is very not edited. also hey it’s been awhile since i’ve posted something LMAO… sorry fam 😝😗

[homisexual11]

Jalice SFW Alphabet

Going off my phone for a while, I won’t be back but until then I hope this’ll hold you. Also don’t be afraid to send requests if you have any :) I’ll accept on any Cullen members or wolves but Jalice is preferred :)

TW: Mentions of vampirism… Maria

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Alice can be affectionate, but she sometimes doesn’t show it. She loves giving gifts and such, and little physical touches. She isn’t a cuddle bug, but she’ll hold your hand, have a hand on your arm, things like that. She’s also very passionate with words, too.

Jasper is affectionate. Although he’s hesitant at first, he is definitely a cuddle bug. If you’re human, he’s obviously worried about it, always needing Alice there for support and normally keeping her right next to you, but after a while he grew to trust himself more. He’ll hold your hand, play with your hair, always have a seat for you (his lap in a non-sexual manner). I mean, you’ve seen how he is in the first Twilight movie.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You’ve seen Alice as a best friend with Bella, but both of them? Best girl talk. Jasper does give blunt advice, but he’s also like so good to talk to about boys and shit. Alice gets you the delulu stuff unless it’s bad, then she’s honest. But also like they will do stupid shit with you as long as you won’t get hurt, and if you could have two platonic soulmates they would be it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Alice likes to cuddle. It’s not her love language or anything, but she does like it.

And we already know Jasper 100% loves it. Also like cuddling both of them? Either you or Alice in the middle, but you could probably convince Jasper if you tried hard enough. But normally he likes holding either one of you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

If you were turned, they would 100% live alone with you, and maybe even if you weren’t, but it would take a lot of convincing Jasper. Everyone would have their own duties for cooking, but yes they’re both good at it. Also I feel like Jasper would be better at cooking, if you needed. (Alice could probably light the kitchen on fire on accident so she stays away.)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Jasper would probably do most of the talking because he’s the only one who can be THAT blunt. They would want to be platonic afterwards, but it definitely emotionally devastated both of them. But they wouldn’t have to, because Alice would be able to see that yall would stay together, so unless you end it, they wouldn’t.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

If Alice could see a future where you were together, that’s how that shit went. They don’t really marry quickly, I mean, Carlisle was the one that made them get married. So, obviously, it’s complex cause you’re three people, but if possible they’d get married to you after a while. Turning you… they would 100% wait at least three years. Keeping you young enough, but not too old. They waited until Alice said it was time from the visions.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I cannot stress this enough. 10/10 on the gentleness scale. They could easily break you if they were still human, so yeah of course they’re gentle. Also everything with them is gentle soft love. Somewhat old fashioned too. Jasper is not a woman beater, so even though it’s old fashioned it’s GENTLE. (Help why did I feel the need to say that)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

They are huggers. I mean, Jasper is from Texas. (“I’m from Texas, I’m a hugger.” -my friends mom a couple years ago) and Alice gives a bunch of them. Jasper was hesitant at first, I mean, you’ve seen everything physical, why would this be different. But also neither of them let go first. Just saying.

(Wild card: if you were still human and having a meltdown, like Jasper would just pull you into a hug and hold you. He also knows when to calm you down or not, and if he thinks you need to cry he’ll let you cry.)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Jasper keeps Alice from saying it and freaking you out. But she says it quickly, obviously the first. He takes a bit longer, but he definitely said it first to you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jasper doesn’t really get jealous, Alice does a little bit, but normally she just squeezes the life (ha) out of Jaspers hand or will come up to you and who you’re talking to and pretend not to be bothered and when that person is away she’ll be unbothered and happy again.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Alice’s are quick. Little pecks all over your or Jaspers face and neck. She likes nose and forehead kisses for her.

Jaspers are soft but longer as well. He likes kissing your or Alice’s lips or forehead. He prefers lip kisses, but if you kissed any of his scars? He would melt. Absolutely putty in your hands. A little hesitant at first, but when you’re gentle with him? AHH.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I feel like Alice isn’t great around babies but when they’re older she’s better. Jasper is pretty good with children, you see it with Renesmee.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

They don’t really sleep so it’s kind of like every other time for them 🧍‍♀️ but like they have some sort of a routine consisting of the norm, and would be able to adapt to if you were a human and like had a different circumstance.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Cuddling. Reading. Shit like that. If you need to sleep, they pretty much establish a bedtime for you if you can’t take care of that yourself.

(“But yall don’t sleep!” -You

“We don’t need to, but you, sweet girl/boy, that’s a different story. You need to go to bed, honey.” -Jasper)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Alice is relatively open, besides the vampire thing, and with Jasper it takes a little while.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Alice is relatively patient, but she definitely has a breaking point that’s easier to reach. Jasper, on the other hand, has the patience of a saint.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

They remember everything. Well, Jasper doesn’t think he remembers everything, but if someone asks a question about like what your favorite color is or why you have a certain scar or something he’ll immediately have the answer. Alice doesn’t say anything, but she does know and remember everything you’ve told her and she knows random things about you from the future as well.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You got a camera, and went around taking pictures of everyone in the fall. You had a plan to get a cute picture with you and them, but you all ended up falling and there’s just a picture of that. No one got hurt, but it did turn out an epic picture. Did Alice sense it coming? Somehow, no, which is part of the reason she likes it so much.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. Do you remember in Eclipse when it says that Jasper got so many more bites because he was trying to protect her? If you’re human, it’s like that but worse. As long as you keep his heart protected and don’t break it? It’s all yours. Even if you did, it would be yours anyways—

With Alice she’s super protective as well. She knows you can deal with yourself. If a guy is flirting with you? That’s a different story. The same thing goes for her with protecting her heart.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

So much fucking effort. You saw Bella’s birthday and wedding? Yours are like that too, but more stitched to fit you personally.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I mean Alice’s habit of constantly worrying about things in the future isn’t great, and Jasper sometimes changes other people’s emotions too much. But like…

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Concerned. I mean, they need to look put together. Alice is huge on that, but Jasper is a little less.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. They didn’t even realize it until they met you, but it’s true.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Jasper is good at braiding for some reason.

Alice loves planning your outfits so you can match.

They love taking care of you. Like casually.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who was closedminded.

Maria. (IM SORRY)

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

They don’t sleep :) and don’t watch you sleep, but they like it when you lay your head on one leg their laps and fall asleep.

[toxicanonymity]

For Survival 2

1.4k | Joel miller x Fem!reader | nsfw 18+

Prev: For Survival (time passes in between)

Warnings: unprotected PIV sex, huddling for warmth, very mild somnophilia

When the two of you come face to face with your first Clicker, it’s a close call and so traumatizing that Joel resolves for you both to remain in total silence from then on—not quiet, silent.  That means no carnal pleasure tonight, or maybe ever again as long as you're on the move, though you suspect he’ll come around.  As much as he wants you, as much as his body needs yours, he doesn’t want to risk your life.  You follow his logic – if you couldn't be quiet, you both might be doomed.   You can be quiet, but you know better than to try to convince him verbally.  You'll have to prove it.

Until then, for the first time, you sleep in separate sleeping bags.  You feel so unprotected and cold without him that you cry yourself to sleep as quietly as possible.  If he notices, he pretends not to.  

The next night, you're sniffling again.  Maybe it’s the sound that bothers him, or maybe it’s pulling at his heartstrings, but he asks you what’s wrong in the softest whisper. You say you’re cold.  He scoots up behind you in his sleeping bag.  He knows he wouldn’t be able to control himself with your skin close to his. His knees nestle into yours, both of your sleeping bags between you, and you swear to yourself you’re going to be good.  You’re not going to tempt him.  You’re not going to do anything that makes him regret being close to you.  So when you feel him harden against you, so hard you can feel it through two sleeping bags and both your clothes, you simply bite your knuckle, ignore the tears that sting your eyes, and try your hardest not to push your ass back into him.  And when he softly moans in his sleep, his hips instinctually grinding his hardness into you, you push back a little, but do nothing more.  

It’s only been a couple days without him inside you, but it feels like an eternity.  The following night is particularly cold. 

Huddling around your small fire, you discuss where to go the next day, and he isn’t sure.  You know some post-nut clarity would do him good, but you keep your mouth shut.  It’s a cold night, but he still insists on putting the fire out before you go to bed.  It would be cruel to expect you to sleep alone in this weather.  Your good behavior pays off and he zips your bags together but insists you both remain fully clothed.  His strong arm wraps around you and his beard tickles the nape of your neck.  In a feat of superhuman self-restraint, you manage to ignore the hardness in his pants poking into yours, and you fall asleep.  

-

You only wake up because you’re genuinely freezing. Your whole body is shivering.  Even if you didn’t want to fuck him, you’d beg for his body heat.  But in your heart, you know it’s going to happen.  The magnetism between your sexual organs is too much for either of you to control.  So before you wake him up, you remind yourself how important it is to be completely silent.  Not just for survival, but to put his mind at ease and prove you can be trusted not to make a peep.

You turn around to face him, and he stirs half-awake.  “Please, Joel.  I’m freezing,” you whisper. Your teeth are chattering. “Can I light the fire?”

His grubby finger thumbs your cheek, and when he feels how cold you are, he stirs more awake.  “Shit,” he says.  “No, no fire.”  He begins to take off his clothes.  You both know he produces as much heat as a radiator. You strip down, too.  “Come here,” he says.   

“Thank you,” you whisper, and you turn back into a little spoon.

“Mm,” he responds quietly as he drapes his enormous arm over you and hugs you into him. 

The first touch of his naked heat against you sends all the blood in your body to your loins.  When he nestles in behind you, it doesn’t take long for him to harden obscenely, right between your legs.  You’re absurdly wet, and you’ve never wanted anything as much as his cock inside you at that moment, but you’re committed to your good behavior.  You pretend to fall asleep.  You relax your body and breathe in a rhythm you hope is consistent with your sleeping.  After a while, his hard cock twitches against you, and your ass pushes back just a little.  Surely your body in all its primal need wouldn’t completely ignore it, even in your sleep. 

Your slow breathing has a calming effect on you. You almost drift off, then his hard shaft swells against you, and his hand creeps onto your breast.  You make a cute little sleep sound and push back again.  He inhales deeply into your hair.  A minute later, he pulls away a little, and the swollen head of his cock drags wetly down the curve of your ass cheek.  Then, the head comes to a rest in the warm, tiny space between your wet seam and the swell of your inner thighs. He inches his swollen shaft ever so slowly into that warm nook, breathing deeply as he does it. His stiff member glides against your slick, and your hips tilt back as you make another sleep noise.  The crown of his tip comes to rest right at your clit.  His palm gently flattens your breast and his breathing gets deeper. He slowly moves his cock in short strokes along your dripping folds, meeting your throbbing clit each time.  

Your hand loosely covers his on your breast.  You feel his heart rate quicken through his brachial artery against your arm.  Then, quite plausibly, you think, your hand drifts down between your legs for extra warmth. He can’t seem to stop himself from thrusting, gliding firmly, slickly along you.  The flattened tips of your fingers meet the head of his cock and he exhales into your hair.  You stir “in your sleep” and your hips tilt more, making your entrance his for the taking. The next time his cock glides forward, your fingers nudge his tip in line with your warm, wet hole, nestling him there.  His hand moves from your breast to your face, covering your mouth.  You inhale deeply through your nose.  If he didn’t already know you were awake, he must by now.  

Your breasts rise and fall with his arm between them.  His hand clamps down harder on your mouth and his swollen tip pushes inside you, hardening your nipples and making you gasp through your nose.  You slowly exhale and dig your ass back into him as he pushes further inside.  The stretch of his girth makes you weak, but you pinch your eyes shut and manage to stay silent.  He retreats slightly, then makes a final push, bottoming out and with a barely audible grunt that expands the warm pit in your gut.    

His hips rock slowly with his mouth firmly planted in your hair.  It’s a subtle motion, but he’s unfathomably hard, and your hand is at your clit.  His short, slow pulses inside you are enough to have you on the edge of climax in less than a minute. The suction of his nostrils draws your hair into him and his cock twitches. 

He kisses the nape of your neck.  His lips part and his teeth on your skin make your body prickle in goosebumps.  The tension bursts, and your lips part under his palm as your body begins to pulse and relaxes rhythmically.  The softest moan escapes your lips, and his middle finger wedges between your teeth. You bite down softly and breathe deeply, riding out the waves with him inside you.  His thrusts remain slow but become longer and harder as you clench around him.  He softly grunts into your neck then bites down and erupts inside you.  Your tight cunt milks his cock.  It pulses every second or so, filling you to the brim with his cum.  

When you’re both finished, his thumb brushes your lips gently.  You both fall asleep quickly, with his cock inside you and his lips on your neck.   

[emmyrosee]

Sunarin is a new dad. And he’s good at it.

He’s constantly hovering over his little boy, there’s no where in sight that the newborn is, that he isn’t right behind him.

And it’s good, that way. Rin’s always been able to keep his infant calm and from screaming, something he teases he’s also good at when it comes to you (he puts a fake pout on his face when you give him a playful smack on the back of his head), and in turn, you’re able to handle your domestics with minimal hassle. Rintaro loves his son, he’s so good with him and he’s so good at soothing him before he’s able to cry too much.

But then Rintaro goes back to practice. And you’re finally thrusted into your very own seventh circle.

You’re convinced your new little boy hates you. Clean and simple. The way he screams and cries is absolutely nothing short of constant, no matter the circumstance.

You put him down for a nap, he’s screaming, you try to feed him, he’s refusing to nurse, in the rare instance he does stop crying and you sit down on the couch, he wails once more, and you feel your sanity slip.

You’d cry yourself, if you had the time and mental strength. If you had time to think about it, you’d feel hurt at the idea that your infant likes Rin so much more than you, that he’s the only one who can soothe the baby and you’re the one he’s stuck with at home.

Lucky, for the both of you.

After the absolutely grueling day, you finally manage to make him stop crying, just in time for Rintaro to come home to the two of you- both exhausted and in shambles and covered in poop, but to you none the less.

He smiles the minute his eyes lay on your disheveled form, shrugging off his duffel bag making his way towards you. “Hey momma bear,” he hums, reaching out to hug you. “How’s my beautiful, sexy-“

“Back off,” you snap, watching Rin’s hand fly back as if you’ve bit him. “Your son just projectile shat on me, and I’m not in the mood for your flirts.”

You glare at your husband as he fights, with all his might, to not cackle at your tense words. “I-I’m sorry, he what?”

“I was changing him,” you snarl, your whipping the pack of baby wipes at him. “And I thought he had to fart, but instead, he fucking shit himself. Everywhere.”

Sharp eyes follow down the stain at the edge of your shirt, forcing back a snort once again with a grin, “everywhere?”

“Everywhere,” you growl. “And Rin, so help me God if you laugh I’m filing for divorce-“

“Hey hey, come on now,” he says softly, wrapping an arm around you. Despite not wanting to be touched, you can’t deny how good it feels to be back in his arms. “No need to throw around the ‘d-word,’ you know I was going to laugh regardless of what you say.”

“Asshole,” you growl, but any facade of true anger melts into one of tears, and Rin pulls away slightly to look at you in concern. “… he hates me, Rin.”

“No he doesn’t,” he promises, shushing you softly. “He adores you, you know that.”

“He won’t stop crying,” you wail. “And he wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t sleep, I haven’t peed for nine hours, for gods sake he shit on me-“

“And that’s because he’s two months old, baby,” Rin says, kissing your pounding temple. “He’ll do that. For a pretty long time. That’s what babies do. They’re not really picky with that, they kinda hate everyone.”

“He doesn’t do that with you-“

Rin chuckles, “you just don’t happen to see it. You’re out and about being super mom, all I can do is hold the fort until you get home. And you don’t see the chaos he can cause, yeah?” When you say nothing, Rin nudges his nose against you. “He loves you, babe. He just doesn’t know it yet. And that’s okay.”

He plants a kiss to your head, his warm hand settling on your belly to rub soothing circles in- carefully avoiding the poop stain- and when he finally feels you melt against him, he smiles encouragingly and guides you back into the bedroom where your son lays on his back in the middle of the bed.

“Hey, lil’ dude,” he hums, laying on his side next to the baby, while you blink in exhaustion. “You makin’ mommy crazy?”

“Yes,” you whine, laying on the other side of the baby boy, who grunts and smacks his lips up at his father. Your eyes close in a feeble attempt to ward off the migraine that’s forming, but when you hear a soft “I’ve taught you well,” followed soon by a “pound it,” you scowl up at your husband, whose fist is balled and ready for a fist bump. But even you can’t fight the chuckle that breathes through your nose when a tiny, mitten clad hand knocks against Rintaro’s, an excited “yesss,” easing past your husband’s lips.

Green, sharpened eyes flick over to you, and he offers you a loving smile before re-lifting his fist to you and mouthing another “pound it,” directed at you this time. Your smile falls to a frown, and you whine an exasperated “no,” before pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers. Instantly, a noise of distress comes from your son, and Suna clicks his tongue, “babe you’re making him upset, we need to pound it!”

Reluctantly, you lift your fist to bump against Rin’s, and he sighs happily as he looks down at your son, “and that’s how you were made, little man.”

You scowl and smack his hand, a playful “ow,” falling out of Rin’s mouth. You watch the hand you’d smacked rub soothing circles on your baby’s belly, his lips pressing small kisses against his chubby cheeks.

“Well, I’m proud that you are making mommy crazy,” he begins, resting his head against the bed to lay his forehead against his son, almost as if he’s recharging.

“But make sure to leave some chaos for me, okay?”

“I swear to God, Rintaro.”

[heich0e]

leave the light on - miya osamu/f!reader (haikyuu!) part 10 in the bff!osamu series tags: childhood friends to lovers, tw instant coffee mention, miscommunication, confessions, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

Onigiri Miya closes early on Sunday nights.

It’s not for lack of business—the shop would certainly take in enough revenue to justify staying open regular hours an extra day per week, especially on a weekend. But in the early days of Onigiri Miya, when it was just a one-man show, Osamu needed at least one night that he could count on having off. The workweek business—office workers and students going through their routine hustle and bustle—kept him going, enough so that Sunday nights weren’t a make or break for him, and he was able to start shuttering in the early afternoon once per week.

He remembers those early days. Sweet talking vendors to bring down the cost of produce and haggling with the grubby, bleary eyed men at fish market stalls at the crack of dawn for a deal on the catch of the day. Promising suppliers that he’d be able to get them their money in a couple of weeks if they’d just give him some more time. Standing on the road, because Onigiri Miya was just a street stall back then, trying to coax people in and try his food. To convince them to take a chance on him. He remembers burns on his hands and cuts on his fingers and an ache in his bones that ran so marrow-deep he forgot what it felt like to not be so sore. Sunday nights were the only night he had to relax. The only night he had to sit down, to take off his hat, and to have a beer—or, even more frequently, pass out on his couch in his uniform at 8pm and sleep right through to his alarm the next morning.

Closing early on Sundays had been your idea, way back when— suggested to him gently while he rested with his head in your lap in your tiny student apartment after another 16 hour workday. He still remembers the worry in your eyes as you brushed his hair back from his tired face.

Nowadays things aren’t so hectic. Osamu’s got a good team of people around him to help Onigiri Miya run smoothly—a team who he trusts and values. It doesn’t all fall onto his shoulders in the same way that it used to: he doesn’t have to be there for every open and every close, his bills are paid, he’s not fighting to lure people in off the street just in the hope that he can scrape by for another week.

Now when he closes early on Sunday, it’s more for the sake of his staff than anything else. Occasionally Osamu will take the night off, too; he’ll go home and catch up on housework, run an errand or two, or even grab dinner—usually with you, though evidently not so much lately. But most Sundays he stays behind after his last employee heads out for the night; locking up behind them, switching off the sign in the window to tell the world the shop is closed, and then holing himself up in his office to do some admin. He’ll grab a plate of whatever’s leftover from the day’s service and a cold can of beer from the fridge, put on a rerun of Atsumu’s game from the night before, and get to work shuffling through the paperwork that he’s left to pile up over the past seven days.

Osamu hates paperwork.

It’s not that it’s particularly challenging work—the really hard stuff is left to his bookkeeper after all. It’s just tedious, a mindless task in many ways, and he always finds his thoughts drifting as he sorts through invoices and inventory registers: catching himself being inattentive halfway through a spreadsheet, and having to force himself to go back to the beginning just to make sure he hasn’t missed anything in his carelessness. 

You used to help him with this kind of work, or at least keep him company while he got through it—sitting on the lumpy couch crammed into one corner of his little office and pretending like you weren’t asleep each time Osamu caught you with your eyes closed. More often than not, he’d throw his jacket over you to keep you warm while you napped and then rush through the last of his work so that he could wake you up and get you home. But just having you there on those late nights was enough for him; your presence was the thing that helped.

Coffee is his only saving grace, these days.

Samu shuffles out to the front of the shop on one such Sunday evening, taking off his baseball cap and ruffling the hair underneath tiredly. He’d finally gotten a trim, and he’s glad that things feel a bit more normal again as he rakes his fingers through it—his mother had been right when she remarked that it was getting too long the week before. He tosses his hat down on the front counter of Onigiri Miya, rounding the end to grab a sachet of instant coffee from behind the bar where he keeps his emergency stash.

The overhead lights in the shop are off, but there’s enough brightness filtering out from the still-lit kitchen that he doesn’t need to struggle to see as he prepares himself some hot water to add to the mug in front of him. He tips the granulated contents of his instant coffee sachet into the bottom after ripping it open with his teeth, tapping the empty plastic packaging against the edge of the cup to make sure it all comes out. The kettle behind him hums quietly as it heats to boiling, and Osamu sighs, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

He stares out at the restaurant—his restaurant, as hard as he still finds it to believe some days—his gaze sweeping over the tables with their corresponding chairs resting atop them. One of the staff had mopped the floors at the end of the night, which left them still slightly wet and glistening. There’s light filtering in through the front windows from the streetlights and the other shops that line the Osaka street outside, and their glow catches in the water that hasn’t yet dried from the tile.

Osamu’s eyes suddenly snap up to the glass that lines the front of the restaurant.

There’s a silhouetted figure—so familiar he could trace it even with his eyes closed, from memory alone—standing on the other side of the door.

Osamu blinks, thinking that the paperwork must have finally gotten the best of him, or maybe that the beer he’d had earlier is inexplicably hitting him too hard. But no matter how many times he squeezes his eyes shut, the familiar shape stays where it is on the other side of the glass each time he opens them again.

His heartbeat thumps, loud and wet, in his ears.

Like the shot of a gun, the man stumbles gracelessly into action: loping around the end of the bar and slipping slightly on the wet tile as he heads towards the door. He fiddles with the lock as he struggles to unlatch it, accidentally trying to force it the wrong way in his haste before eventually getting it right. When he finally throws open the door, a gust of cool night air flooding into the restaurant along with it, he takes in a deep, gasping breath.

“Hey.”

His voice is shaky when he greets you—mostly air and very little shape to the word.

You stare at him from a few paces away, your arms crossed firmly over your chest and a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth. Osamu thinks you look pretty when you’re mad. He always has. But it’s worse now because he knows all too well that he shouldn’t—because he knows you’re mad at him. 

You seem to have something to say, he can tell as much from the almost spiteful glint in your eyes, but you stay tightlipped as you simply stare at him.

“D’ya… wanna come in?” Osamu asks, still holding the door open. He nods his head back into the shop. “Still got some stuff prepped, I could make ya—“

“You’re a jerk.”

Osamu blinks, taken aback.

“Yeah,” he agrees plainly after a moment, thinking it’s only fair of you to say given then circumstances. 

His concurrence only seems to upset you more.

“Like, you’re a real asshole, y’know that?” You’re nearly spitting you’re so angry, your features twisted up in contempt. Your arms uncross and drop down to your sides, and Osamu watches as your hands ball into fists. He’s the one who taught you how to throw a punch, years and years ago now, and he’s wondering if he’s about to experience a practical demonstration of his teaching abilities firsthand.

“I don’t necessarily disagree.” He nods, agreeing with you once more, though this time his response is slower, more hesitant—not because he doesn’t mean it, but because he’s not sure that it’s what you want to hear.

“Ugh!” Your following exclamation is loud, and palpably frustrated, all but confirming his suspicions. “You…!”

Your tone is climbing with every passing second, and Osamu looks furtively up and down the road around the two of you. It’s late in the evening but there are still a few people out, and he sees heads turning in your direction at the commotion.

“Hey,” he says, his own voice dropping in volume but still pleading all the same. “My name’s on the door and we’re gettin’ some weird looks. I wanna hear everythin’ you have to say, but could you please just say it to me inside?”

You look at him blankly, your lips puckering into a petulant, unhappy pout. You seem like you want to say no, to keep causing a scene, and for a second Osamu really thinks you’re about to round in on him again. Instead you trudge forward, stomping past him over the threshold of Onigiri Miya.

Osamu hesitates for a moment after you pass, half in shock and half in relief, and then he lets the door swing closed and locks it behind him for good measure—he’s not sure he wants any unsuspecting people coming in search of onigiri and stumbling upon a brawl.

It’s dim in the restaurant when he turns to face you, but he can still see your fury burning in the dark.

Neither of you say anything.

“You can keep goin’ if you want,” Osamu is eventually the first to speak, and he means what he says. This is the least of the punishment he deserves, after all. And hearing you yell at him is markedly better than the silence.

“Martyrdom doesn’t suit you at all,” you mutter sullenly.

Osamu sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I just wantcha to say whatcha came here to say.”

You begin to pace as you work through your thoughts, slowly walking back and forth in front of the counter, picking at your cuticles. You’d put a fair amount of distance between the two of you, and he’s sure it was intentional. Osamu keeps himself confined to the entryway near the door, while you walk a path back and forth along the length of the service counter. His eyes follow every step you take, like a captivated child watching fish at the aquarium.

“I had a terrible dream last night,—” you finally force the words out, your feet stilling against the shiny tile as your pacing comes to a sudden halt.

Osamu decides to just do the right thing and shut the hell up for once, giving you the floor.

“—I was going to buy 30 kilos of rice from Kita-san’s farm—”

That’s a lot of rice, Osamu wants to note, but his lips part to let the words through and then he decides better of it.

“—and I was there, at the farm, and then Kita-san started telling me that you got married and had a baby. A baby, Samu! Kita-san standing there telling me all these terrible things with that big bag of rice in my hands, and I couldn’t even get mad at him because he’s Kita! So I just had to listen to him go on and on and on about the venue and the flowers and the baby name that you picked out. And the more he’d tell me the worse it was, and the bag of rice just kept getting heavier.” Your teeth bite down so hard into your lip as you suck in a breath that Osamu's amazed he doesn’t see blood. “I was hearing all of these things—terrible things—and all I could think was that I should have been there to see all of that for myself. I shouldn’t have been hearing about it from someone else. And I realized that you were living a whole life apart from me, a life that I didn’t know about or get to be a part of, and it just kept getting worse and worse and I woke up and I felt like I was going to scream.”

You’re out of breath by the time you finish your rambling thought, your chest heaving and your eyes wild and your mouth faintly wet. You look to him, and Osamu doesn’t see that same indignation in your eyes anymore, only hurt. He watches as the expression hardens again, whets itself like a blade—sharpened not in anger, but rather in resolve. In resignation.

“That day. I looked for you first.”

Osamu feels lost now. Are you still talking about that dream?

You understand without him saying it, and explain yourself further. “In high school. The day that I kissed Suna.”

Osamu’s stomach drops, all of the blood rushing to his head so quickly that the shop begins to spin a little around him. He can hear his pulse in his ears. He can feel it in his throat. He can’t help the twist of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, writhing and ugly though it may be, at the mere mention of his friend’s name. He doesn’t have the right to feel the way he feels, but it happens all the same.

“I looked for you,” you keep going, like you’ve broken a seal and have to let it all out. Osamu doesn’t dare try to stop you. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He watches on like it’s a conversation that’s happening not with him but rather to him. “You were eating lunch with Tsumu in your classroom. I realized he would have had a fit if he knew that I was asking you and not him. I thought about asking him but…”

Osamu can’t feel his fingers from how tightly his hands are balled into fists at his side. His lungs burn in his chest—the breath he’s holding having long since lost the oxygen his body needs, though he can’t seem to draw in another.

“If it wasn’t you, I didn’t care who it was. So I asked Suna.”

The young man processes your words slowly. Incompletely. Like only every third word seems to register.

“Ya wanted me to be yer first kiss?” It’s not the question he ought to ask you but it’s the one his brain chooses to spit out.

Your reply is frustrated, but with an unmistakably melancholic rasp running through it. “Yeah. I did.”

Somewhere distantly, Osamu recognizes a sharp, stinging pain. An ache as part of him realizes that it could have been him. All along. All this time. Him. But the pain is muted, because part of him—most of him—still doesn’t quite understand.

“I think that was the first time I realized it.” 

Osamu watches your face, maps the achingly familiar lines and dips and curves of your features as he tries to read meaning in the space between your words. But he still finds nothing.

“I liked you, Samu. More than I should have. Differently than I liked Tsumu, or Suna, or any other guy.” You laugh, but it’s a hollow, watery sound. “I realized it and it was awful.”

You’re waiting for him to say something, but Osamu is at a loss for words. No, that’s not quite it either. It’s not that he has nothing to say, but that he has everything he wants to say to you. To ask you. But he doesn’t know where to start, or how to sort through them, or even how to will his lips, teeth, and tongue to shape any of them.

“You… Y’know ya don’t have to say this,” his voice is tight, like a rope drawn to secure a knot not unlike the one in his throat, when he finally manages to speak. “Ya don’t have to pretend or convince yourself that you… felt the same as me. I care about ya too much to ever ask that.”

You laugh—a single, sharp, distinctly mirthless ha!—as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “There you go again not letting me have any say, Samu!” You punctuate your exclamation with a frustrated little sound. “Stop deciding things all on your own and just listen to me.”

That shuts him up again.

“I thought I was over it,”—you begin to pace once more, your steps slow and measured—“I really did. I told myself it would never happen and moved on because I never ever wanted to fuck things up between us. Between any of us.

“You told me that you’ve loved me your whole life, but you don’t know if or when something changed. I do. I had a singular moment that I could point to where I realized that if I did or said the wrong thing after that, I could fuck up something that meant more to me than anything else in the world. Even if you felt the same way I did, there’s no guarantee that something like that would work out. But if we tried and it didn’t work, we wouldn’t be able to just go back to how things were. So I told myself that no matter what I wouldn’t. No matter how hard it was or how awful it felt. I could get over it if it meant I never had to lose you. And it was fine. For years it was fine. We were fine. Everything was fine. And then I lost you anyway.”

You suddenly stop pacing and crouch down, your arms winding themselves around your knees as if to comfort yourself. 

“That night, when you…” You swallow, and risk a glance up at him. “I don’t think I’m over it.”

Osamu feels like he might die. Maybe he did already. Maybe this is his life passing before his eyes, because it’s always been you anyway.

“But it’s scary, Samu,” your voice is so small, so vulnerable, when you speak to him again. You’re trembling as you hold yourself. “Aren’t you scared?”

Osamu is suddenly reminded of that fall day in the woods, so many years ago now. Reminded of two kids who didn’t know what they were doing. Who didn’t know anything. But who knew each other.

Slowly, Osamu crouches too—his joints cracking in protestation as he drops his body down to your level. Your eyes never leave his.

“Yeah,” he says, after a moment. Soft but sure. “‘Course I am.”

You let out a soggy, incredulous laugh, but it somehow doesn’t feel out of place. He watches as you reach up and scrub at your eyes.

“I love you,” Osamu says, because it’s true. Because there’s no other words he can possibly think to say in this situation. Because it’s the only thing that he has in his mind.

You look over at him, sniffling a little, wiping at your running nose with the back of your hand in a way that Osamu absolutely should not find as endearing as he does. “How can you just say it like that? Like it’s so easy?”

Osamu wants to laugh too, like you did earlier, but he worries that the sound might come off as almost hysterical thanks to the misplaced hope he can feel simmering in the pit of his stomach. “Sayin’ it’s the hard part, that’s why it took me so long. But I’ve spent forever lovin’ ya. S’always been the easiest bit.”

You choke back a sob, your head hanging defeatedly as your body slackens. You’re a ghost of the angry little thing that was outside of his door only a few minutes earlier, but more yourself now than Osamu has seen you in weeks.

“What about you?” he poses the question so quietly he might worry you didn’t hear him if not for how silent the dark shop is around you both.

“What do you mean?” You know what he means. He knows you know what he means. You’re stalling, trying to buy yourself time that’s run out now.

“Do you love me?” he asks, praying to anyone who’s listening that he’s been a good enough man up until this point to deserve the answer that he wants to hear more than anything else in the world.

“Of course I do,” you say evasively, refusing to meet his gaze. But it’s not the same. It’s not enough.

“But are you in love with me?” Osamu finally dares to ask.

There’s a stretch of the most painful, profound silence that either of you have ever experienced. It goes on for an eternity, though the clock hands in the corner say differently.

You still refuse to look at him, your gaze fixed instead to a point on the wall on the other side of the restaurant. Osamu watches how the light from the windows catches in the tears that cling to your bottom lashes.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, barely a whisper. You speak the confession like it’s the most terrifying thing imaginable. Like it's wretched.

And it is maybe, but Osamu’s never felt happier to hear anything in all his life—he feels a rush of something so visceral and elated flowing through him, he thinks he might pass out.

“Can I touch ya?” he asks hesitantly, his voice thick and unlike its normal tone. He hardly recognizes it as his own.

You peek over at him for the first time, and Osamu revels in the feeling of having your eyes on him. Delights in watching you watch him and knowing that behind the gaze is the same feeling as the one he holds inside of himself. You consider it for a moment, and he doesn’t dare rush you, but eventually—mercifully—you nod. 

Osamu inches forward slowly and wraps you in his arms. Your body relaxes into his hold instantly, and he pulls you into his lap on the tiled floor. He holds you so tightly that he’s scared he might break you, but he still can’t find it in himself to be more delicate. You cling to him anyway.

It’s the first time he’s touched you in months, but every inch of you is still known to him. Still familiar in every way that matters. You smell the same. You feel the same. You’re soft and warm just like always. Osamu buries his face into the crook of your neck, and your fingers eventually lift to play with the hair at his nape. He holds you, and holds you, and holds you more—sating a thirst that’s been building for longer than the time the two of you have been apart.

And you let him.

You hold him too, in the same way.

“If I kiss ya, you gonna cry again?” Osamu asks you quietly after a while, his lips brushing against your throat as he murmurs the words.

You snort, your fingers twisting into the material of his t-shirt at his shoulders. Osamu peels himself away from you and looks up, and finds that your faces are so close. Too close, in any other circumstance.

His palm lifts, cupping your cheek in his hand, running his thumb against the smooth skin underneath.

“Shut up, Samu,” you say, a little smile twisting up the corner of your mouth.

And Osamu happily obliges by pressing his lips to yours.

[neetily]

ugh piss kink going wild so have some thoughts about it with an assortment of people

Sam who never listens when you tell him you need to go to the bathroom when you’re in the middle of sex, who would rather you pee on him than make him leave your warmth, he already puts a towel down what’s the harm?

Whitney who presses on your bladder, degrades you when you squirm and whine to get him to stop but he doesn’t, not until he’s thoroughly entertained

Alex (SDV) who tries, really he does!, to do it properly. Get you comfy with the idea of it but ends up fucking you in the shower and not pulling out until he pissed inside and wants to watch it pour out of you. gross isn’t it? he doesn’t really care though, he’ll clean you up later

PISS KINK. where my pissers at 🗣️!!!!!!

thank u for sending this in. sorry it took me a bit to get to it, i was dying <3

MDNI. piss warning ofc !!!

sammy the lover boy... he just doesn't care, does he? or rather, he cares about every part of you way too much!!! it's okay, if y'gotta piss, then piss he'd reassure you, heart skipping a beat at the thought of being covered in your scent. he doesn't even slow down to allow you breathing room as you try to hold it in in spite of his words, only in turn making him feel even better as your muscles clench and contract around his fat cock with swiftly dwindling promise. ughhh the way he'd pound into you harder too, kissing your bright red with embarrassment cheeks all sloppily, huffing against your ears that it's okay, s'fuckin' hot in between moans. and he means it!!! he gets off on fucking you so good that you end up pissing yourself, getting him all messy with pee, just so in love with every part of you. even your piss. cause at the end of the day, it's just another liquid to him. no different from when he eats you out all night long and swallows your slick down his parched throat. maybe that's something he can convince you to do next time, right?

whitney is just so cruel with it. a complete sadist, force feeding you copious amounts of water on a hot summers day in school just knowing that you'll try to excuse yourself to the bathroom soon enough— but he doesn't let you go. grabs your wrist to tug you towards him instead of the door and makes you sit on his lap, squirmy little princess rubbing his clothed cock so well as you struggle to keep your composure in front of his taunts and teases. bet y'need to go so bad, huh? god, imagine how embarrassing it'd be if ya pissed yourself in front of so many people, right? poking and prodding at your bladder knowingly as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, pressing your lower half closer to his front, the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his lap is enough to have him gasping for air. make a mess and you're fuckin' in for it, slut. he'd warn you, but he secretly hopes that you do piss yourself— not just for his own selfish gratification, but so that he can punish you with his own stream of waste in the boys bathroom, buried balls deep in your soaking piss cunt to fill her up again.

alex just wants to try it out!! that's all. he swears. the gnawing thought of coating you in yellow, of warming you up with his stink, it won't leave him alone !! god, the thought of marking you all up in his scent especially? drives him crazy !!! and it's not that he's trying to be sneaky about it, no, never !! he's just a lil shy... a scared boy, worried about what your reaction might be to his perversion... but in the shower, you'd surely not be able to tell the difference, right? he'd get what he wants, and you'd be none the wiser. he just wants to try it out. pressing you against the shower glass, tits squished against the soapy surface as he spreads your ass cheeks open for his viewing pleasure. it's building quickly, he can feel the tight pressure in his abdomen, heavy balls slapping against you with loud smacks as he repeatedly buries himself to the hilt over and over again. and yet still he holds back, refuses to cum first— not until he's released his piss inside of you. and he's got you spread to watch it happen, the shower water trickling down his backside as he pulls out enough to leave just the tip inside of you, offering you small rocking fucks so that you don't think anything is amiss, but he can see it shoot out of him, eyes glued to where his piss gushes out of your overstuffed cunt and down his length, his balls, fuck, how it drips down your thighs? he might have just wanted to try it out, but he makes a mental note to try it again every shower time in future too.

[larcenywrites]

Imagining a young!Tony desperately horny after a date with you that, like many, ended in sensual kisses and hands wandering a little low or not low enough). It doesn't take much to get him hard, but when the thought of finally getting lucky is all he's been thinking about, the sweetest cheek kiss is enough to have him twitching in his pants. He usually ends up jacking off a time or two, but that's not really doing it for him anymore. He needs to fuck. He needs to be on top (preferably of you) and finally able to thrust his hips and be busier with clawing at the sheets than stroking his dick.

Maybe it's pitiful and feral, but he's never been so frustratingly hard. Naked and bent over the edge of his bed, he's desperately humping the pillow that typically lays undisturbed next to his own. One hand is balling up the sheets, and the other is hooked beneath the pillow, holding it against him and keeping it still. The fabric is just rough enough to rub so deliciously against his overly sensitive cock, and the occasional tight crease the pillow's case creates flicks just right at the underside of his feverish red tip. Biting into the plushy cushion hardly hides his whimperish moans, but it does help to relive some of that pent-up aggression. He hunkers down more, bringing his other arm beneath the pillow as he desperately thrusts faster, moaning louder at the feeling but groaning at the closeness that still feels so far. He just wants to cum. He just needs to cum in you. So bad. In another sort of temper tantrum, his nails dig and grab at the plush that gives way too easily. He can already foresee the embarrassment he’ll feel after this whole ordeal in the back of his kind, but only briefly. And for only briefly, he’s able to trick himself, to imagine that it’s actually you under him. Soft and warm and limp beneath his weight. His hips dig deep into the pillow with another harsh thrust that finally pulls that first rope of cum from him. A rigid groan is muffled by what he wishes was your shoulder when he bites down, but he keeps going, weakly dragging his cock through the warm puddle he’s still adding to, driven further by the racy thought of pumping his seed into you.

With a panted sigh, he finally releases the pillow from his teeth and relaxes his assaulting grip. It’s not entirely satisfying lying limp in a sort of lonely afterglow, but he stays still for a moment anyway, grumpily nuzzling his nose into the cushion that barely smelled like your perfume and letting himself relax a little easier than he had all night. Just for a few minutes. Until the wet pool against his skin felt gross and he remembered that he’d just fucked a goddamn pillow. With a self-deprecating curl in his lip, he lifted himself up, thick strings of cum briefly following after his still semi-hard cock as he retreated, predictably too embarrassed to even look at the pillow he's just used, and quickly trying his best to remove the cotton case, using it to clean himself and debating on throwing it away, but the perverted part of his brain was convincing him to wash it and keep it. A dirty little secret just for him to know the next time you visit…

[redstarwriting]

ok like i’m gonna make jealousy headcanons for the spider-verse characters because someone requested it, but i can’t get this one out of my head so i’m gonna ramble abt it for a second

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hobie isn’t a jealous person by any means and he never feels threatened by anyone. he has moments of inferiority and insecurity, of course, everyone does, but he knows who he is. he knows what he’s capable of, and he knows that he has you wrapped around his little finger as much as you have him wrapped around yours. but, depending on multiple factors, he can have a tendency to be a little possessive. of course to a healthy extent, because again, he isn’t threatened by people to the point where he’s like “you are mine and you will do what i want you to do because i said so.” i mean one of the reasons he loves you so much is your individuality and how independent you are. he really hates that he feels this way sometimes because almost all the time he doesn’t feel this way. he only gets this way when he’s had a rough night as spider-man the night before, or if he’s just having a bad day and he convinced himself going out with friends would make him feel better. in fact, he usually only gets like this when you’re both with friends. he wants people to know that you’re his and he’s yours. he just loves you and wants to show you off. and when he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention from you he’ll start to feel a little bit of a way about it. the only thing he does to act upon it, though, is that he just gets touchier. he’ll need to have his arm around you. he’ll need to have his hand on your thigh. he’ll need to be touching you in some way because you make him feel better. you ground him and remind him that despite it all, he has it pretty good because he has you. but it gets so hard when yours and his friends are constantly asking you to do things with them and you get up and walk away from him to do it. just let him hold you and make everyone know you’re his, please omg. it never gets to a point where it actually causes conflict between the two of you, because hobie is very emotionally aware of himself, and he knows that it really isn’t that deep. he just doesn’t really know how to ask for your help when he gets in a mood, but since you know him better than you know yourself, you’re always able to tell.  “hobie, babe, do you wanna go home? i got some of your favorite snacks earlier... and i may have stolen the new Omars record earlier today, too.” he just needs to vent to you really. after he gets whatever is getting him down off his mind, he’s totally fine. but sometimes he’s just so hellbent on having you next to him and not leaving so he can hold you and let other people see that he’s first priority. because sometimes he needs to feel like he’s first priority because of circumstances out of his control. he may hate people who brag about things and show off anything they have, but you’re the exception to that for him. you’re the most important person in his life, can you blame him for wanting to keep you close and show you off all the time, really?

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k bye, hope this holds you over til i post chapter 5 of his girl tonight after work 🫶🏻