#he’s so woman-centered it’s actually so interesting to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tossawary · 7 months

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I finished Volume 3 of SVSSS, which encompasses the main story, and currently have my bookmark sitting at the first chapter of the Airplane Extras in Volume 4. I took a bunch of quote pics but have yet to review them and add thoughts.

Every time I read SVSSS, I forget how... incredible... the inside of Shen Yuan's head is. He's fascinating.

Like, he's misogynistic (even while criticizing Airplane's own misogynistic writing), he's homophobic, AND he's transphobic. Not in a way where I think he thinks anyone deserves fewer rights than anyone else (I think he's generally a nice person, although, holy shit, I would not trust this man to craft policy of any kind) or would prevent anyone from living however they chose to live, a lot of his problematic bullshit stays inside his own head as he tries to understand the world around him using the stallion novel formulas he was given, but he's carrying around SO MUCH unexamined bias that supports his refusal to examine himself and his own desires.

Some of it reads (presumably intentionally) a LOT like the kind of conflicting, problematic bullshit a lot of queer people carry around inside their heads as they struggle to untangle themselves and their beliefs.

And while I do wish that Shen Yuan had been forced to confront and address his misogyny and transmisogyny even further than it does come up (in part because it is DEFINITELY affecting the way he thinks about gay men as well, including and especially Binghe), I do kind of... appreciate on some level that he thinks this way? From a character standpoint? Because I think it's probably realistic for a privileged young man spending a lot of time on the internet reading shit like PIDW to look at the world this way. And it's clear even through his own narration that his blindness in certain areas is causing him a lot of trouble. While I do have criticisms and personal wishes, I do appreciate the depiction of personal character development that is just... a cringeworthy mess of internalized bullshit the whole fucking time.

Also, it's SO funny to me that he reads as SO aro-ace-spectrum to me (probably gay, but generally detached from sexuality and possibly also partially from gender) AND he actually knows... the word asexual, I don't think he has a very broad understanding of asexuality... but he knows the word and yet doesn't personally identify that way. He mentally accuses both Luo Binghe (main story, before finding out Binghe is into him) and Liu Qingge (Succubus Extra) of being asexual for showing no interest in women, only to fail to reflect on how he ALSO demonstrably has no lasting personal interest in the women around them, which doesn't read as very genuine to me.

(EDIT: Again, I am not against a bisexual Shen Yuan interpretation either! I am willing to be persuaded by any author who wishes to tell a particular story. But Shen Yuan's attraction towards women often reads personally to me as very shallow and possibly insincere.)

"I willingly read PIDW, that proves I'm straight!" he sincerely thinks to himself, even though his favorite wife is the one without explicit sex scenes and he also admits to skipping over a lot of them.

"I'm able to tell when women are beautiful, that makes me straight!" thinks the guy who mentally censors nudity whenever demon women lose their clothes, and keeps telling us how "the average reader" of PIDW would react to these beautiful women instead of conveying his own attracted reactions. His actual reactions are generally centered on a woman's narrative significance. The only people he personally seems to find attractive are Luo Binghe and maybe Liu Qingge.

Though my interpretation was that he does probably experience sexual arousal and have a sex drive (see his username), which probably helps with his conviction of straightness, I'm not sure that there's any mention of Shen Yuan even masturbating at all in the entire main story of SVSSS? He never tried to hook up with anyone. Sex is apparently not a priority for him.

(EDIT: He does seem to enjoy sex with Binghe in the "Bing-mei vs. Bing-ge" Extra. He loves Binghe and likes the closeness and the physical pleasure. I appreciate the indication that they're working on moving on from the AWFUL intercourse pushed by Xin Mo's possession and possibly also the System's Scenario Pusher.)

And Shen Yuan seems to view women as being and behaving Fundamentally Differently from men and gay men as behaving Fundamentally Differently from straight men (as soon as he learns Binghe is into him, he thinks about how Binghe isn't behaving like the characters in his sister's gay, non-con, BDSM erotica novels), seeing everything through the lens of novel tropes, such that he seems to view sex and sexuality and gender as being deeply mixed with a person's personality. So he can't be a gay man, because he's too "Normal", in his mind at first, because he doesn't behave like his own mental image of "How Gay Men Behave" (or "How Women Behave / A PIDW Wife Behaves"), while also demonstrably not being anything like "the average reader" of PIDW and also apparently not caring too much about his own masculinity? Like, I do think he likes being the gentleman scholar of Qing Jing Peak, he does like appearing dignified and strong and cool, he doesn't like losing, he doesn't really like playing "damsel in distress" roles, and I do think he likes being gallant towards women, but he's not too concerned about seriously competing with figures like Luo Binghe or Liu Qingge? He's happy enough to back down and let someone else take the lead if necessary. He puts up with being put into the roles of female leads even if it embarrasses him and he rolls with the punches to his pride easily enough. He seems to have decided his Sexuality By Default, so it does make me have a lot of thoughts about whether or not he's potentially going with Gender By Default / Convenience as well.

Someone get this man some amateur and academic literature on gender and sexuality (and a lot of other stuff), stat, so he can ignore it, probably.

#tossawary svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #tossawary rereads svsss #shen yuan versus asexuality fic #reblogs off

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skelly-words · 8 months

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Knock First Next Time

(NSFW Levi x Reader)

MDNI 18+ only

I just woke up and this was in my drive, bro, idk it's crazy. I don't even wanna talk about it anymore, just read the tags and don't look at me.

Reader has a cooch

Tags: excessive porn, Levi being a loser, Monster fucking-ish, double penetration, anal and p in v, tail play (is that a thing), biting, choking, undiscussed kinks (but bffr it's fine in fantasy), he has two dicks and they're blue with bioluminescent cum, that's my tag

Synopsis: You walk in on Levi playing eroge, pls just read the tags and don't make me explain it.

Wc: 4.2k

“Levi?” you yell through the door to his room. “You skipped lunch so I brought you something.”

You knock persistently at the wood. It’s late in the afternoon and nobody has seen Leviathan all day. Most of the brothers aren’t worried about him, citing his commonly reclusive behavior. Even if this is regular, you want to make sure he at least remembers to eat even if he is wrapped up in his new anime or RPG binge.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not but I’m coming in.” You knock a couple of times in warning before you swing the door open.

The lights in his room are so dim you can barely see his silhouette as he sits, hunched over, in his gaming chair. Levi’s playing some kind of RPG. An erotic one judging by the big-tittied anime girls and multi-colored tentacles moving across the screen. And it would be nice if you had respected his privacy and left his room, but that would be boring and predictable. You calmly set the plate and sandwich on the edge of his bed as you approach the back of his chair.

As you get closer, you can hear muffled sound coming from his headphones. No wonder he couldn’t hear you knocking. You stay quiet and out of his peripheral vision, slowly reaching to lift the left side of his headphones away from his ear.

“Wow, Levi,” you whisper into his ear. “I didn't know you were into tentacle hentai.”

“No!” he shrieks, frantically trying to close out of the game. He’s too shocked, shaking so badly he can’t get the mouse to the exit button before you’re pulling his chair back from his desk. “That's not what this is. It isn't what it looks like.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you blew us all off to play eroge all day. Just wait until your brothers hear about this.”

“No, please don’t, it’s not in like a weird way. It’s an RPG. I can’t resist a good RPG even if most of the art and story arc is erotic.”

“How respectful,” you say half-sarcastically. You’re equally unimpressed and entertained. “You’re making me interested. Talk to me about it.” You lean against his chair, tilting him back to look up at you.

“No!” He says for the third time.

“What? Is that your new favorite word?” You tilt your head to the side to see if he looks any less embarrassed sideways. “Can I play with you?”

You have ulterior motives when asking, but Levi doesn’t seem to pick up on that. He shakes his head and buries his blush in his hands.

“Absolutely not. Get out, and please don’t tell my brothers. Especially Mammon, he’ll extort me for money. And I can’t handle the teasing from Asmo…” He keeps mumbling about whatever, but you aren’t really listening to it.

You pull his chair further away from his desk to make room for you to stand in front of him. The art style is interesting, and you click through some of the dialogue, but he’s too far progressed for you to understand the story at all. For all you know, the excuse that he’s playing it for the plot could be total bullshit.

“Hey, stop that.” Levi stands up and snatches the mouse from you, unintentionally clicking the story along. He’s recovered from his brief heart attack enough to get up from his gaming chair, but not enough to notice how his body effectively traps you against his desk.

The screen changes to the actual gameplay, which is somehow more lewd than the story portion of the game. A woman is spread across the center of the screen with a slimy blue tentacle pressed into each of her holes. There’s a slightly smaller tentacle too that wraps up the woman’s leg and lays across her clit. A timer bar steadily decreases across the top of the screen.

Levi’s frozen. You probably think he’s such a fucking pervert now, and it doesn’t help that he can feel himself getting hard while standing so close behind you. It’s even worse that he’s going to have to lose this level now, ruining his perfect run of the game.

Your hand overlaps his on the mouse as you drag the cursor to the pause button. His fingers still don't move, hovering the cursor uselessly over the button.

"You're gonna run out of time," you keep a playful lilt to your voice. "Either pause it or play."

He debates for a second longer, doing whatever mental gymnastics he usually goes through to figure out how to proceed. He barely misses a beat. The cursor drops away from the pause button. You don't really pay attention to the gameplay itself, focusing on feeling his hand beneath yours, the lewd sounds echoing from the abandoned headphones looped around Levi's neck, and his growing boner pressing against your lower back.

"You're good," you say, half-impressed and concerned with the dramatics of the female's orgasm. The level finishes, and Levi keeps his perfect record with a three-star score.

"Do you still want me to show you how to play?" It's the boldest thing he can manage to say, which isn't saying much when it comes out so pathetically. He's begging as if the answer is hopelessly 'no.'

"Sure."

You can feel when Levi exhales, relieved, against your temple. His hand twitches beneath yours on the mouse as he drags the cursor to exit the game and start a new save.

Apparently, his whole spiel about playing for the story wasn't complete bullshit. He points out important plot points and shows you different strategies, but it's hard to concentrate on anything he says.

As his nerves dissolve, replaced by pure nerdiness, he pulls his chair back up to the desk, sits down, and settles you in his lap. You doubt he's completely aware of what he's doing with how engrossed he is with the game. When he's teaching you how to play, he has complete tunnel vision.

Levi lets you hold the mouse, reversing the roles so that he's guiding your hand. His unoccupied arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him with a gasp whenever you come close to losing.

You find yourself surprisingly into it, despite never playing an eroge before. Your left hand stays glued to the keyboard, sprawled across the controls as you concentrate on the game. You're literally sweating as you struggle to finish the level (or make the level finish, either way).

A yellow banner unrolls across the screen, and the protagonist frowns at your one-star win.

"Shit, that was kinda intense." You sigh and lean back into his chest. Intense is an understatement. Adrenaline was making your hands shake and breath stutter. It didn't help that Levi was being so generous with his touch. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was pulling you against his bulge on purpose, but he was probably just being absentminded.

"It's fun, right?"

"Yeah, and the art is pretty hot too. It's fucked up that you need both hands to play, know what I mean?" You let go of the controls to pry his arm from around your waist. It starts off with you innocently playing with his fingers as he contemplates what you’re talking about. While it's obvious, he tries to find an alternative meaning.

"Help me out, Levi?" You bring his hand down to rest on the front of your shorts.

He stops breathing and he freezes. A few seconds pass as his brain takes a second to catch up. Even when he relaxes, there's still tension in how he holds himself.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

You roll your eyes at his question and go back to clicking through the next segment of the story.

Levi's touches begin hesitantly, barely brushing you as he unties the drawstring of the loose shorts. You try to stay cool. Somebody has to, and with the way he struggles to untie the simple bow, it's not going to be him.

"C'mon, Levi." You'd been playing for at least an hour, becoming more and more wound up by the erotic imagery the entire time. Maybe at the beginning, you were being purposefully suggestive to tease him, but now it felt like you actually needed him to touch you. Not that you were into tentacles or anything. You especially weren't turned on by the way his tail had loosely wrapped around your ankle at some point.

"You're not even playing anymore." He tried to sound smooth and confident, but there was still a shake in his voice and hands. Even the hand guiding yours on the mouse felt a little sweatier.

You clicked through the rest of the story quickly, skimming over the text and pausing for longer when particularly provocative characters or lines flashed across the screen.

Levi's fingers slipped down the front of your shorts as you started the next level of the game. You'd barely managed to win the last level, and your gameplay only got sloppier as his index finger pushed your underwear to the side. The tip of his middle finger slipped up your slit, stopping when he felt your clit.

You squirmed in his lap, spreading your legs across his thighs.

"Pay attention. You're losing." He critiques your technique further as the pad of his finger loops lazily over your nub. He's back to being fully immersed in the stupid RPG.

You can't pay attention when he slips his finger lower to tease your entrance just to make you wetter. He plays with your pussy so easily. You don't notice anything weird about it until you moan and he laughs, mumbling, "Just like the game."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Levi?" You're not mad that he's doing it, more pissed that it's working. He's following the motions you should be doing on the desperate, slutty, moaning woman on the screen.

"What? I'm giving you hints."

You lose that level, but Levi doesn't. He gently coaxes an orgasm out of you with a finger on your clit. You cum around nothing, staring enviously at the character stuffed so full on the screen.

"It's too bad we can't recreate the whole thing." You try to sound nonchalant, but your legs shake a little as you turn to face him. You straddle his lap as best you can without the armrests getting in the way.

"W-what do you mean?" He stutters now that it isn't a game anymore. His eyes flick from the red losing screen to your face.

"Don't play dumb." You can feel his bulge against the front of your shorts as you lean closer to him. It's hard to keep eye contact when filth spills out of your mouth. "I wanna be full like that."

"Are you serious? 'Cause-" He cuts himself off with a hand over his mouth.

"What?"

"I don't wanna say it. It's so gross." He speaks between the small gaps in his fingers.

"I'm into slimy tentacles, how gross could it be?" You gently pull his hand away from his mouth. "Tell me."

"U-um, I, er-" He clears his throat and shuts his eyes, as if not looking at you makes it easier. "I have two, um, well you know. But it's not normal, so if you think it's weird don't feel bad, okay?"

"Are you shitting me?" It's your turn to cover your mouth. "Sorry, I meant, can I see?"

He nods, dropping his head and hands to untie his sweats. You push his hands out of the way when he gets slow and loses his first wave of confidence. It's impossible to pull his sweats down in the cramped position forced by the gaming chair. After thirty seconds too long of struggling, you huff in frustration.

"Let's just go to your bed."

"The tub?"

"Yeah, the tub." You start to wiggle off his lap, but he stops you.

Levi roughly grabs your thighs. He's clumsy when he stands up but makes up for it with the fact that you weigh next to nothing to him. Your hands balance on his chest, working upwards to hold onto his shoulders.

His tail slips higher to notch in the bend of your knee as he takes unsteady steps towards his bathtub. The cool porcelain bowl is almost overflowing with pillows and plushies. Your legs loop over either side of the tub as you spill out of his arms. You sink into the tub, submerging in the pillows as you would in water. Your hips stay lifted in the air, legs held up by the tub and Levi's cool fingers.

You can hardly feel his shaky touch as it creeps up your thighs, not until he brushes the hem of your shorts. He's so light and cautious, afraid for you to regret your decision and run, every movement is testing the water.

"Don't tease me, Levi." You gently tug the sleeve of his hoodie, dragging his hand between your thighs again so he can feel how warm you are. And as if he could ever resist you after that, you softly whisper, "Please, I wanna see you."

With a groan, his hand slides higher, cuffing the crease of your thigh. The loose leg of the night shorts bunches up to show off the lacy blue panties that barely cover you at all.

"I don't even know what to do with you." His other hand palms his bulge through his sweatpants, thumbing over each cockhead through the layers of material.

It's hard not to laugh, not meanly, but Levi's so cute like this. His hands fall to his sides, tightening and relaxing like he needs something to hold onto. He's focused on how you move while you slip the shorts off your legs.

He fumbles with his sweats, still as clumsy as he was before. There's a light tremble to the motions of his fingers as the knot comes undone and his pants slide down.

Levi kneels between your thighs in his light gray boxers. You're caged in by his arms, still clothed in your dark shirt. His hips slot against yours, and you can feel how much precum has soaked through the fabric of his underwear. The stickiness between you makes a mess of your panties too; it slickens the friction against your sensitive clit. His hips set a steady rhythm of rutting into you, shallow breaths beating against your neck with each rough roll.

"Okay," he says between breaths, "but you can't freak out."

Levi leans in to hesitantly kiss you. His left hand slips down to his boxers, shuffling them down and around his thighs. The kiss is a distraction, capturing your attention with the slide of his tongue against your bottom lip while he presses the head of his dick against your thigh.

You gasp into the kiss pulling away to watch him push your panties to the side. The flushed purple at the tip of his upper cock fades to a blue that almost matches the lace trim digging into the crease of your thigh. The tip of his lower dick is buried inside you. Precum drips onto your navel as he fucks further into you, forming a snail trail up your abdomen to mark how deep he is.

Your tight tank top bunches higher and higher around your waist, inching up with each thrust until the material is scrunched under your tits. Levi's mouth latches around your nipple through the thin cotton, soaking it through with his spit as he sucks on you. He tugs the strap off your opposite shoulder, letting his fingers trail down your chest. The cool touch makes your nipple stiffen as he rolls the bud between his thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale leaving your lips.

Levi's mouth becomes greedier as you moan freely. The seal of his mouth muffles his own sounds as his dick hits deeper, finding spots that make your hips buck back against him.

"I want both," you whine. Your hand drops to where his neglected cock slides up your tummy through a light-blue puddle. It throbs in your hand as you milk him for more precum until the slick drips between your fingers.

"Fuck, you were serious?" Levi pops off your tit to look down at you with a lopsided grin. The hand cupping your breast leaves, crawling down your stomach to collect some of his mess on the way to your butt. In the low light of his LED strips, the streaks on your skin almost glow.

He lets you keep him warm while he preps you. Hips stay flush with yours while he focuses on pushing his middle finger past your rim. He's so slow and gentle, groaning into your ear as he slides deeper. It's too slow and methodical, so torturous that you're breath catches with each push and pull.

Your messy hand slips lower, leaving the tip of his dick to help him out. The tip of your finger presses alongside his as he fucks into you.

"Shit, Levi." Your words come between hot pants. "I need one more."

"What a fucking filthy mouth." He laughs softly and catches your lips in a kiss. You're perfectly pliant, letting him fill you up, even his tongue tasting you too. A third finger stretches you open and you whimper into his mouth as your muscles adjust.

A sick squish comes from between your bodies, matching the milky stains that dotted the pillows beneath you. It takes all of Levi's self-control to keep his hips still when you're tucked under him like this. Thighs spread out while he fills up your cute pussy.

His breath catches as you tug his wrist away, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"I think I'm ready, baby." Your hand wraps around his to guide it higher, up to the base of his lower dick. "Just, go slow, okay?"

"Uh-huh." He nods into your neck as he begins to pull out of you. The tip of his dick throbs when he taps it against your rim. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum so fast."

"I-It's okay," you stumble when the point of his tail bumps your clit. It's a shame that you're so empty, his pre dribbles out of your slit as you clench around nothing. "Me too."

The smooth scales of his tail raise goosebumps on your thigh as it moves across your skin. It winds down the crease of your right hip and up around to the left. He uses it to lift your hips up better and take the pressure off your legs. You can tell it's a good angle before he even pushes in. The head of his cock sinks into your ass, there's barely any resistance with how slick your pussy left him. His warm breaths dampen your neck, maybe some of it's spit with how it drips a little toward your chest.

You rub the tip of his neglected dick up and down your cunny, just enough to make him whine. His tail hikes your hips up and he sinks into you, not all at once, but enough for a sharp moan leave your split lips. He slows to a gentle grind, trying not to let out anymore embarrassing sounds in your ear, trying not to shove more into you no matter how good it feels.

His teeth sink into your neck, biting down to muffle the groans while he tries not to fuck into you.

"It's okay," you breathe out, "just go slow."

"Mmhmm," Levi hums, tongue laving over the indents of his teeth. The first roll of his hips is generous, and he bites back any noise when his dentition digs into you. Your moans pitch up as he fills you one inch at a time. The scales on his tail are cool to the touch, just like his fingers. The thin end flicks your clit up and down, making you leak and squish around him.

Your cunt is twitching as forces more dick into you, drooling down to lubricate your ass as you get closer. Just the way he bites you, grunting between gritted teeth as he ruts into you, has your poor pussy sucking him in more.

"You did it, baby." Levi's smile presses into your neck. He sits up on his knees, leaving a parting kiss on your lips as he pulls back. His hands trace the swell in your tummy, the fuzzy hair at the base of his cock bumping your swollen nub as he grinds into you. "I didn't think I'd fit."

A soft giggle trickles, rose-scented and sultry, out of your pretty mouth. "You fit fucking perfect."

A grin tugs at his mouth and he pulls back a little. The drag is delicious. You can feel every vein and ridge on him as your holes clamp down from sensitivity. He kisses you slow, shoving into your g-spot from the angle he has you bent at.

"You're so so tight," he murmurs against your mouth, taking shaky breaths between kisses. It's like you don't want to let him go and he'd be content to stay buried inside of you.

Levi doesn't let you reply, licking into your mouth when you try to speak, consuming your broken words when he bites those petal-sweet lips. Spit pools in the corners of your mouth, drooling to match the juice curving down your butt.

He has to swallow more of your moans as he starts to move. His hips start with a stutter because he wants so badly to stay stuffed inside of you, but he finds a rhythm. You cling to his shoulders, nails leaving angry crescents in his milky skin.

Your legs tremble each time Levi fills you up, squeezing into your tight ass while your pussy eagerly slurps in every inch of his heavy cock. They slip around his waist to lock in the back, one ankle crossing over the other so he can't possibly pull away. And he doesn't want to, whispering filth to you between tender kisses.

"Thank you," Levi groans as he rocks into you. "Thank you for being such a cute toy." His hands get greedier, slipping around your butt and gripping dimples into the fat.

He's smothers you with his lips until you're dizzy off his taste. Stealing more than just your breath, the swell of your bottom lips catches on his canine.

You cup Levi's jaw, drawing your thumb over his adam's apple on your way down his neck. The curve of your hand settles around the base of his throat as a warning.

"You think so?" Your voice is testy, but Levi doesn't seem to notice.

He nods, eyes too glazed over to really be listening. "Perfect fucking slut, all full of me." His breath fans over your wrist as he looks down at where you're holding him.

"Try again."

You keep him just a hair away from reaching your lips, digging the pad of your thumb into the hollow between his collar bones. There's barely pressure at first. He fucks into you harder, locking eyes with you while his dicks turn up your guts. As if that was the right answer, he leans in to kiss you again.

The palm of your hand flattens against the front of his throat, pressing him further away. You keep him held back, even has he strains against you, choking himself on your hand for a kiss.

"Gimme a kiss," his voice is thick, cut up too by the gentle squeeze of your fingers. "Please, baby." He punctuates each word with his cock, hitting you better with the heel of his palm flattening your stomach. He massages over the faint bulge. A thin string of saliva drips from his mouth to yours as he feels himself inside of you, prodding against his hand while you squirm beneath him.

A low rumble starts to build in his chest as he tries to get close to you, even to lay his pouting lips on your cheeks or forehead. His sounds are choked by the hand around his throat. He's almost silent as your fingers tighten around him except for a few strangled gasps that slip through.

You can feel Levi’s dick throb as his pace grows frantic, pushing you into the pillows like he can nestle any deeper. There's a hazy look in his eyes, partially obscured by the sweaty smear of his bangs. He's so cute it makes your grip loosen, bringing a pretty flush to his cheeks as blood rushes to his head. All that extra oxygen makes him whimper as he begins to spill out inside of you.

"Shi- Fuck I'm cumming." Levi's hands tighten around your waist as his thrusts become stunted and sloppier. His groans go straight to your pussy and the next swipe of his tail sends you over the edge. Your hips buck to meet him halfway as his slick begins to leak out of you. His cum glows a pale blue, running out as you tighten on his cock.

This time, you don't stop his kisses. Your fingernails scratch through the hair at the base of his neck, curling and tugging on it harsher than you mean to. The roll of his hips doesn't stop until you're both shaking and oversensitive. His breathing is heavy and getting slower as he comes to a stop.

Levi's breathing almost stops too when he looks down at the mess. "I'm sorry." His face pales as he pulls out of you. Rivulets of his release drip out, glossy and translucent to leave a cool shine to any skin it got smeared on. Your underwear is stretched to floss, sticking into place between your soaked pussy lips when your thighs snap shut. The love bites he left are beginning to darken as well, threatening to stain various shades of red and purple. "Like really seriously sorry."

A/N- nite then <3

#obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x mc #obey me smut #leviathan x reader #obey me

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wellofdean · 3 months

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I wanted to make a separate pose to big up these excellent tags on this post about how a show can be about misogyny when it's about men from @deangirlism101 :

#by virtue of watching the show long after it stopped airing and after years of exposure to the fandom#I've experienced a very interesting phenomenon wherein i went in expecting a very straightforward male fantasy#specifically in regards to dean#and was continuously surprised by how dean was around women who were actual characters and not caricatures#with caricatures of women dean also becomes a caricature of a womanizer#but with woman characters? with victims and friends?#dean is constantly paternal/brotherly#endlessly protective and respectful#in fact dean's utter lack of sexualization of the complex women around him in the first few seasons#kind of had me thinking he might just be straightforward gay#additionally it's interesting to point out that dean is the only one of the three winchesters who does not have a#''symbolic woman'' that drives his narrative#i.e. of the three winchesters he is the one who engages with the women around him as people and not someTHING to give him ''purpose''#which ties pretty well into his own role in his family being a typically femenine one#john endlessly relies on dean to serve the role of his mother yet he resents him when he does it so naturally#which from a queer lense is pretty much spelling out ''john can't put his finger on it but something (queerness) about dean bothers him''#anyways it just surprises me how#the fandom has perpetuated this image of the characters#and how#ironically#that image is the exact caricature dean so obviously puts on and we so obviously are supposed to KNOW he puts on

Some really nice points here, and bang on target:

Dean is not called to his adventure/journey because a symbolic woman dies like John and Sam are; he is put upon it by his father and his own sense of responsibility and love before he has the agency to choose. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love, and he wants not to be alone in a world of monsters...and...is HE a monster? A killer? Is everything his fault?

John resents Dean because what he needs from Dean (obedience, domestic work, emotional labour) is feminine. It's what women are for. Dean internalizes that resentment. Sam defies John and is driven by his own losses, and John can respect that, but Dean becomes the family repository of what they've lost. Dean is the eldest daughter who can never do enough.

John has chosen to abandon normal life and live on the fringes to pursue his revenge quest, and Sam is fighting to get back to the center -- left his family, hot girlfriend, Stanford Law, credit in the straight world, friends. But Dean? He has accepted that he will never be normal. He has accepted that he will always be a lonely, liminal weirdo who knows something terrible about the world that most people are spared from knowing.

Like:

If you leave Supernatural season 1 without realising that everything Dean pretends to be is pretty much the opposite of what he is, then you are not watching it right, full stop. The Dean Winchester he pretends to be is a character invented by a terrified, homeless, wounded little boy who doesn't know how else to protect himself.

Second, if you can't see how totally fucking queer all that is, I CAN'T HELP YOU. And,

you cannot hit that many nails on the head without knowing where you're swinging your hammer, and in conclusion, Dean was always deeply queered, and that was in the DNA of his character.

The truth is, that Dean is a very cohesive character. He is written and performed beautifully, and with intention. He is not an accident, he is an artistic creation, and he is excellently drawn. I am not "giving the writers too much credit", I am taking an Occam's Razor-type view of it, and coming up with the simplest explanation for what I see on the screen.

That said, if by some insane magic trick they managed to make Dean this queer by accident? It doesn't matter what they intended, because THE TEXT IS WHAT IT IS. I don't need the permission of the authors to see a church by daylight, and Dean is THAT OBVIOUS.

#dean winchester #dean was always bi #spn

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kalamity-jayne · 7 months

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Another thing I find interesting about this latest tumblr drama is the CEO outlining his "beliefs and principles". To me it's a striking example of how cis people do not understand us and make no real effort to understand us, which of course kneecaps their ability to see things from out perspective or even have real genuine compassion for us.

For one thing, I think trans women are not going to be won over by outlining your anti-transphobia principles, we don't give a shit that you've read the yogyakarta princples or how many LGBT people you have on staff (especially since it is still unclear whether or not there are actually transfems on the moderation team which is what would actually matter here), or what sort of benefits you offer your trans employees. All good stuff to be sure but that doesn't absolve you of wrong doing and we are so used to people doing this sort of thing to be like, "see, I'm one of the good ones! Don't be mad at me!"

Like, to use an unrelated example, the former head of the Southern Poverty Law Center, an organization that has done enormously important civil rights work and taken down many powerful hate groups, had to resign a few years ago for racism and sexual harassment, both of which are antithetical to the work he was doing. You can be doing things that help was with one hand while the other hand actively harms us.

Furthermore, trans people are always reading between the lines, we have to as a matter of survival. There are a number of things photomatt has said in his beliefs in principles that will read very very differently to a trans woman than it would to anyone other person reading it. For instance:

I bet any cis person reading that is nodding their head in affirmation to this but to a trans person the headline here isn't "I support the right to medically transition," it's actually, "I don't support transition care for trans youth." And whenever a cis person specifies they support transition for adults that tells us more about what that person's actually believes than they realize.

So all of Photomatt's attempt at establishing his pro-trans bona fides are absolutely hollow when you don't even need to read between the lines here, not when he's followed her to a different social media platform to continue throwing a tantrum at her. Matt's "principles and beliefs" are nothing more than a meaningless genuflection because it's motivated not by the selfless desire to make us feel safer here, it's motivated by his need for us to think he's actually a "good boy" and this all just a misunderstanding.

We aren't stupid Matt, we encounter schmucks like you every👏single👏day.

#tumblr has a transmisogyny problem #photomatt #hammer car #predgesterone #transphobia

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ot3 · 10 days

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hey, i only just recently finished bridge to turnabout (the final case of the aa trilogy) and wanted to go back and see your thoughts on godot since personally i have very mixed feelings on him altogether. you can just reply with a link to a post where youve already explained how you feel in more detail (i remember seeing a post where you have but tumblr search function is ass so i cant find the one i was thinking about) or use this as an opportunity to bitch about him if youd like. but i generally think that you have a knack for putting opinions i already have into words perfectly and wanted to revisit ones on him specifically with a new set of eyes now that i finally understand the context behind everything. peace and love ✌🏽

ohhhhh man godot. a lot to unpack there. I feel like for the most part whatever thoughts i've posted about godot have been kind of piecemeal so ill try and put it into something more coherent and comprehensive here. well first of all congrats on finishing the trilogy i hope you enjoyed it!!! bridge to the turnabout is SUCH an excellent case on almost every level but. the writing centered around godot really spoils it and stops it from living up to it's full potential....

i was warned i wasnt going to like godot going in so i was really surprised that up until bttt, i actually did end up liking him! i thought he was hysterical! and i still do. but i really can't Like him because of what the writing centered around him does to the integrity of aa3's arc. I don't like what it does to mia's place in the narrative and I think it undercuts the emotional realism that makes ace attorney's slapstick ass nonsense murders manage to land right. i guess ill address each one of those points on their own?

I don't like what godot's writing does to mia's place in the narrative!

Mia's death is something that's completely within her own agency; it is her own phone call with her own sister, talking about evidence for the case she herself has spent years building, that gets her killed. None of this has anything to do with phoenix. She is no strings attached presented as his mentor figure and I think this dynamic is what prevents Mia's death from feeling like fridging despite it technically being something that has to happen to allow phoenix to take center stage in the upcoming events of the game.

then godot comes in and the narrative he imposes on her death feels like it retroactively turns it into Fridging! I mean 'is this character death the Fridging Trope or the Death of the Mentor Trope' is kind of milquetoast tvropes brained level media critique here but im really using these concepts as a shorthand for the level of agency a female character is allowed to have in her own death, and the degree to which that death is used as a tool for men's emotional development. but anyway the point being that the fact that godot views mia death as phoenix's responsibility is an inherently misogynistic bit of character writing. their power dynamic is such that mia was the one responsible for phoenix's wellbeing if anything, as his boss, his senior, and his mentor; the only reason godot presumes phoenix to be responsible for mia's death is because he a man who was in proximity to her! which fucking suuuucks.

Something I don't see talked about a lot is that godot also has beef with phoenix for being dahlia's stooge, which i think is a MUCH more interesting angle for his character. but that's presented as a separate thing from his feelings about mia's death

Godot: …… I never liked you. Six years ago… …you helped the woman who put me to sleep by hiding her bottle of poison. And then… While I was sleeping… …you let Mia die. But you didn't care. You just kept living your pathetic, happy-go-lucky life. You even had the nerve to follow in her footsteps as a lawyer. I could never forgive you. That's what I thought.

now to be clear i don't think the narrative frames his blaming phoenix as something we're supposed to agree with. Godot has his whole confession at the end where he admits he views himself as responsible for failing to protect her. but it does basically mean that her death stops being something that was About herself and the choices she made and her relationship to her family, and instead becomes About the effect it had on the men in her life. which i really don't like!

NUMBER TWO. I think godot's writing lessens my ability to get emotionally involved in this case

Even within ace attorney's fucking moon logic bridge to the turnabout pushes my suspension of disbelief past its breaking point. I don't care about the pendulum horseshit. I don't care about the ghost possession. I'll accept all of that. What I can't accept is: why does no one EXCEPT godot himself seem to care that this entire murder could have been avoided if maya at any point been warned about it? Misty and Iris just as guilty of this as godot is, but the biggest difference between them and godot is that 1. misty has been a deadbeat for ages and is now just Dead. Her primary established character trait is not talking to her fucking kids. 2. Iris has been working as dahlias accomplice for her entire life and so the idea that she would willingly conceal this has much more legitimacy to me.

We are supposed to accept and sympathize with the idea that protecting maya Actually Was Something He Did. I say were are expected to accept and sympathize with that because phoenix and maya sure do! I guess you could interpret this as them trying to give some comfort to a man that is clearly at the end of his rope and about to be sent to prison.

Phoenix: Y-You're wrong! You put your life on the line to save Maya! Godot: Was it really for Maya's sake...? Even I'm not really sure. [cut some lines for brevity] Godot: You were the one who made me realize my folly. You never ran away from Mia's death. Instead, you picked up where she left off, as a true defender of the people. In that one moment... I understood everything! Phoenix: Mr. Godot... Godot: I think you already know this, but if you don't... My name is... Diego Armando. Maya: M-Mr. Armando! I believe in you! I know you were trying to save me!

then, later on:

Phoenix: (So I guess it's all over... The way everything ended... Was justice really served...? The man who risked his life to save Maya is being sent to prison by my own hand...) Mia: Of course justice was served. Phoenix: M-Mia! Mia: ...I'm proud of you, Phoenix. Your defense was... truly brilliant. Phoenix: B-But I couldn't save Mr. Armando! The man who cared so deeply for you... Mia: You're wrong, Phoenix. You did save Diego. You saved him in the only way possible.

I guess technically godot did risk his life to save maya. and I do like the conclusion that basically being laid bare and brought to accountability like that is what godot needed to 'save' him. but i'm just not sure why the fact that maya was only in danger in the first place due to godot's choices doesn't factor into how phoenix feels about him 'saving' her. I just don't buy it!!!

It lacks the emotional weight that other instances of Avoidable Tragedy in the series have had. Ace attorney is at its best when the relatively grounded emotions are contrasted by the zany impossible crime antics. But i think BTTT is an instance where the emotional realism isnt taken far enough to distract me from the convoluted nature of the actual events that have just taken place. Rather than being so in touch with the characters during this case that i can tap into the Tragedy aspect of 'this didnt need to happen like it did' i just find myself frustrated by the fact that it didn't need to happen like it did. It kind of chafes the whole case for me and at the end I didn't feel any sort of cathartic victory regarding the events that had just transpired. but that was clearly the feeling they were going for

i did enjoy godots for the most part, but i think you'd need to make some serious overhauls to the storyline to have this specific case reach its full potential. it's a good case! but as the end to the entire trilogy i just can't help but resent the fact that it has the clumsiest writing out of any of the individual games' finales. and that everything i disliked about it is attributed to the actions godot took and the reactions other characters had to that.

#ace attorney #ask #authenticyuri

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darylas · 7 months

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Chapter 1 - Blue Skies

John "Bucky" Egan x singer!fem!reader ♫ next ♫ ao3

When Bucky hears his favorite song begin to play, he does not expect to see a new Red Cross volunteer walk up to the microphone.

1.6k words

Warnings: Language, Alcohol

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

A/N: This was my first time writing in several years! It's short and the pacing is interesting, but gosh darn it I had fun writing this. Special shoutout to @blurredcolour for inspiring me to pick up the pen. Go read their work, it's fantastic.

Bucky sat cross-legged in a chair next to Buck, not-so-slowly nursing his second whiskey. Men and women danced in the center of the officers club as the military band played an obviously well-rehearsed rendition of Glenn Miller’s A String of Pearls. Bucky tapped two fingers on his knee in time to the beat while he watched the dancers. He had already spent three songs dancing with three different women and was now taking a break to sit and enjoy his best friend’s company.

“That girl you were dancing with before, she was pretty,” said Buck before taking a sip of his coke. “She works in the Clubmobile, right?”

“Yeah, Helen. Good dancer, too.” Bucky spotted her on the other side of the room, chatting with Tatty Spaatz.

Buck took another sip as he watched the band play. “Got a letter from Marge today.”

“She dump you yet?”

“Not if I read the letter right.” Buck smiled and looked down. After a moment, he looked back at Bucky. “She said Peggy was not too happy she hasn’t gotten a letter from you.”

Bucky responded with a puzzled look. “We went on one date. A double date. I swear I didn’t give her any ideas that she’d be expecting mail from me. Buck, I swear. I don’t play like that.”

Buck gave a soft exhale through his nose. “I know you don’t. I was just passing along the message.” A String of Pearls began to come to a close. “Not sure why it’d be such a bad idea to write her, though.”

“Aww, c’mon, Buck, I’m trying to have a nice evening here.” Bucky’s eyes lit up as the band initiated the next song, loud trumpets and melodic saxophones blaring out the snappy intro to Blue Skies. He broke into a grin. “Now we’re talkin’.”

Buck and at least three other men couldn’t hold in their groans as they too heard the familiar notes. They knew exactly what this song did to Bucky, especially after a few drinks.

Bucky leaned over to address one of the protestors, Major Jack Kidd. “It’s my song! It needs vocals! You can’t expect me to just sit here in silence.”

“I think you’re gonna have to, John,” said Buck. “Looks like your act’s been booted.”

Bucky whipped his head around to look at the makeshift stage where the band was playing. He watched in disbelief as a woman wearing a Red Cross uniform strolled up to the microphone in front of the band and began to sing.

Blue skies smiling at me

Nothing but blue skies do I see

Several of the men whooped and whistled appreciatively, and Bucky saw you smile and wink at the crowd as you continued to sing. Every note was sung with confidence and precision, and you continued to smile brightly as you got to the chorus. Everyone in the room seemed to be under the spell of your voice and stage presence.

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

When you’re in love, my how they fly

Buck hadn’t realized how right he’d been. Bucky had gone completely silent.

He rubbed the lower half of his face to cover his growing smile. He hoped you’d glance his way but so far no luck. He found himself in a strange quandary as he was torn between closing his eyes to listen to your voice and keeping them open to stare at your face. He wasn't sure if it was the whisky, the humidity of the packed room, your performance, or a strange combination of all three, but he was beginning to feel dizzy.

Far too soon for his liking, the song ended, with you hitting the final high note right on the head. The crowd applauded as you stepped back and gestured to the band behind you in appreciation. You stepped back up to the microphone.

“Thank you very much. Let’s hear it one more time for our Air Force Band! Aren’t they wonderful?” The crowd cheered, Buck and Bucky clapping along with them. “While I’m up here, I just wanted to remind you all that this Saturday, the Red Cross will be hosting bingo night in the Aeroclub at 1900. I don’t want to spoil anything but I will tell you that we’ve got some pretty terrific prizes for the winners. Thank you again, ladies and gentlemen.”

As you departed the stage, several men in the crowd let out cries of disappointment. The band director spoke into the microphone, “Don’t worry, ladies and gents, she’ll be back! Now if you feel so inclined, grab a partner and get back on the dance floor!” He signaled the band to start playing a new song with a count of "one, two, three, four.”

Bucky slapped both hands on his thighs and stood. He quickly downed the rest of his whisky, put down the glass, and straightened his tie. “I do believe I feel so inclined,” he said to Buck.

“Yeah, I figured you might,” replied Buck with a smirk.

As Bucky made his way toward where you were seated with another Red Cross Girl, he smirked as he noticed that other officers who had the same idea begrudgingly backed off. As Buck was known to say, rank had its privileges. When you looked up, Bucky greeted you with his most charming grin. “Quite the performance up there; you do autographs?”

You looked at his hands and quirked your brow. “I don’t see anything to sign.”

Bucky looked down at his hands as well and flipped them over a couple of times. “Damn, you’re right.” He looked back at you. “How ‘bout a dance instead, then?”

You smiled politely at him. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t dance.” You motioned to the girl sitting next to you. “Rachel here is a marvelous dancer, though.”

“Oh, I know.” Bucky nodded at Rachel. “How ya doin’, Rach?”

With a mischievous smile and her chin resting on her fist, the blonde replied, "I'm just swell, Bucky."

He smiled back at her. “That’s great.” He looked back at you skeptically. “You sure? I promise to keep you on your feet, Miss…”

You gave him your name then said, “I’m sure. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Major, and don’t forget about bingo night on Saturday.”

Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets and pressed his lips together, nodding. “Right, right. Bingo night. Alright then, I’ll see you around.” He began to walk away then turned back around. “I don’t know if the band said anything to you, but Blue Skies is sorta my signature song. S’okay, though. You did alright. Little different than my rendition, but you sounded great.”

You gave him that same damn polite smile that he couldn’t decipher and said, “Glad you liked it.”

Bucky nodded once and headed back to his seat. He cleared his dry throat after sitting down next to Buck. After picking up his whisky glass, he frowned upon realizing that it was empty. Buck looked over at him. “What happened?”

“Turns out she’s more your type. Said she doesn’t dance.”

“What’s ‘a matter, Bucky?” He turned to see Blakely and Douglass grinning at him. “The jazz cat have claws?” Both burst out laughing at the terrible joke. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and gave them an exasperated look.

Buck smiled good-naturedly and clapped him on the back. “Had to happen sometime, pal. Maybe getting shot down for once will help fix that king-size ego of yours,” he joked.

“I didn’t get shot down, she said she didn’t dance.” Bucky pulled on one of his sleeves. “There’s a difference.” Once again, he began tapping two fingers against his knee to the music, trying his damndest not to look at you.

═════ ♫ ═════

Later in the evening, Bucky, Buck, and Curt Biddick were all standing at the bar. Curt and Bucky were animatedly discussing the Yankees for what had to be the hundredth time, leaving poor Buck to his coke and people-watching for a few minutes.

Bucky saw his friend look quizzically at the dance floor then quickly avert his eyes and take a long sip. Bucky looked back in the same direction and immediately saw what Buck had been hoping he wouldn’t. At the far edge of the dance floor, you were dancing with Lt. “Bubbles” Payne, smiling and laughing.

“I’m telling you, DiMaggio would never…what the hell are you looking at?” Curt, who was more than a little drunk, turned around and saw you and Bubbles. “That the girl who was singing earlier? The one that gave you the brush-off? I thought you said she didn’t dance. I guess she meant she doesn’t dance with-” He was cut off by Buck smacking him on the arm. “What?”

Bucky was still watching you with your arms around Bubbles, laughing at something else he said. Bubbles. He was a great guy, but what about him made you change your mind about dancing? Or was dancing not the problem at all?

Curt, unaware of Bucky’s worsening mood, casually slung his arm over his shoulders. “Hey, c’mon, don’t feel bad. I’ll dance with you, Bucky. C’mere, they’re playing our song.”

Bucky shoved the drunk lieutenant off of him and smiled bitterly. “Yeah, cause spinning and shaking is exactly what your body needs right now, Curt.”

He felt Buck nudge his shoulder. “You’ll get your chance, John. C’mon, I’m beat. Let’s head to the barracks.”

As they began the walk back and the music behind them faded, Curt appeared deep in thought. Eventually, he said, very seriously, “Maybe she likes his mustache better than yours.” Buck coughed to cover a laugh.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He didn’t care that you had rejected him. Not even a little.

He wouldn’t spare you a second thought. No sir.

And he absolutely did not hear you singing Blue Skies over and over in his head as he lay in bed that night.

—

♫ next ♫

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john bucky egan #mota #masters of the air #mota fic #callum turner #reader insert #fanfiction #Spotify

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musamora · 1 year

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𝖎'𝖒𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 「𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

from anonymous ⇢ can I request a fanfic Nikolai or Dazai nsfw? maybe it could be a new coworker that he’s interested it or something, honestly I’m fine with anything but i just an idea!

content. f!reader. not-safe for work, alcohol, bathroom sex, bruises, choking, clubbing, creampie, fingering, hickeys, implied/referenced fleshlights, jealousy, misogyny, perverted dazai, pet names (baby, dearest, good girl), possessiveness, protectiveness, praise kink, semi-public sex. not proofread. 4.2k+ words.

author's note. i cannot believe how long this request took for me to complete. it is the first in a series of requests that i've received in the past two months that i'm finally getting to, but it's here! and this is weirdly my first full BSD smut fic, so sit back and enjoy the ride ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. it started as a night at the club and then became something much, much better.

After multiple bouts of terrible run-ins with the press, Fukuzawa had made the executive decision to hire a media liaison as an intermediary for their discussions with the news. And she was, at least in Dazai's eyes, the perfect little thing. He almost fell over when she strode through the door—well, he actually did. He had dropped to his knees and begged her to kill him, grasping onto her delicate hands for the first time, only for the sweet woman to dismiss his proposal with a wave of her fingers and a concerned contort of her lips.

And God, she was perfect.

She walked around the office with such charismatic confidence, one that rivaled his own, always clad in a fashionable pair of dress pants that shaped her ass just right and flared at the bottom to compliment her legs. Her blouse was even better, with puffed sleeves that bounced at every step and a collarline that exposed just the right amount of cleavage. It was the perverted mummy's dream.

However, he liked their new liaison for many other reasons—he wasn't that shallow. (Name) She was so easy to talk to and kind to her co-workers, even with a sassy flare rivaling Doctor Yosano's. And even though she didn't have an ability, she held herself up with wit and intelligence alone—he couldn't help but admit that the smirk that curled onto her very kissable-looking lips whenever she outsmarted someone made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up.

His personal favorite habit of hers had become the one that centered entirely around him—obviously. (Name) always made it a habit to check in on him, especially once she realized his suicide quips weren't just a ploy to get closer to women. It had started with a weary checkup and an occasional smile but blossomed into a friendship laced with jokes and playful banter.

She was such a charmer.

It had been quite a busy day for the agency—though it typically was—involved in another city-wide event that had placed every citizen on their toes. So, to his dismay, he was forced to admire her from afar, watching her hold off intrusive media outlets with a grace and dignity that she solely wielded. Though he couldn't help but notice her rapidly dwindling patience—it was apparent. The scrunch of her nose as she listened to the misogynistic rambles of news anchors or the overly-sweetened tune of her smile as she confronted a demeaning photographer—all little traits he had fallen for.

He knew the next person who even looked at her funny would face the wrath of a she-demon.

And he couldn't wait to watch.

"How's our charming Ms. (Name) doing on a fine evening such as this, hm?" he mused as he rolled towards her desk, spinning circles as he sat backward in the chair. A softened smile, starkly contrasting her prior annoyance, appeared on her face, shoulders slumping as she relaxed into her chair.

"I'm doing fine, Mr. Dazai," she mocked, hands settled near her hips. "But if I have to talk to another snobby reporter, I may commit a murder."

She leaned towards his chair, dramatically batting her eyes. "You'd bail me out, wouldn't you?"

He smirked—this back-and-forth banter had become more and more common between them, much to his delight. He swooned with a coo, draping his arm across his forehead. "I would, dearest—if only I had the money for such a thing!"

"I barely have enough for canned crab..." he trailed off with a frown, a sudden reminder popping into his head. "How would you feel about an evening on the town."

She raised a brow. "Hmm, what are you suggesting?"

"I'd forgotten about these tickets." He reached into his back pocket and then into his other back pocket—then another and another. "I received them as a favor a couple months ago. They're entry tickets to a fancy club up in the north sector."

She peered over his shoulder with pursed lips once he pulled two crumpled tickets out of his vest pocket, eyes widening once he unfolded them. "The Royal Crown? Dazai, these are so expensive!" She snatched them from his hands, holding them up with scrutinizing eyes to the light. "Are you sure they're real?"

He pouted. "Of course I am! Can you really doubt a handsome face such as mine?"

She struck him with her pointed, unimpressed expression. He fell as if he'd been shot, crying out to the ceiling, temporarily drawing the attention of their co-workers, only for them to look away. Same routine. "Oh, Ms. (Name)! You wound me!"

She huffed, unable to restrain her laughter, returning the tickets to him with a slap to his chest. "Uh-huh. I'm so sorry."

Her coy, playful grin softened with a sigh, her beaming smile stirring Dazai's stomach. "But I'd love to go with you—if they're real. And if they're real." She stood from her chair, patting his shoulder as she passed by. "You can pick me up at 8."

And she walked off, clocking out of her shift with an almost unnoticeable pep in her step—unnoticeable to everyone that wasn't Dazai. He sighed, leaning against the seat of his chair with a lopsided grin.

She was so cute.

She spent the next few hours inside her apartment dolling herself up, swaying and humming to the tune of the local radio station as she slipped on one of her favorite dresses, drawing a dark shade of lipstick on with a pop of her lips. A knock rang out just as she slipped her heels on, gathering her purse as she made her way to the door.

"Coming!" she called from down the hall, only to pause mid-step.

The knocking hadn't come from the door. It came from the balcony.

She crept towards the balcony, ducking behind some of her furniture as she tried to spot some kind of burglar or serial killer, but she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. It was just her balcony, sitting aglow in the warm setting sun. She stepped out, taking in the breathtaking sight of the cityscape as she relaxed, relieved to find that she hadn't been stuck in a horror scenario—

"Graaah!"

"Oh fuck!"

She smacked the obscured figure with her purse, knocking whoever it was to the ground. It groaned in pain, and that familiar voice struck a chord with her, making her look closer at the figure as grumbles tumbled from its mouth.

"Bellaaaaa. How rude," Dazai whined, rubbing his forehead.

She clutched her hand to her chest, calming her racing heart as she panted. "Don't do that!" Her lips twisted into a snarl, glaring daggers into the wounded man. "You scared the shit outta me!"

"I was just making sure you could defend yourself," he claimed, although she could spot the lie through the amused glint in his eyes. "You never know what could happen to a poor, unprepared damsel."

"I am not a damsel, Dazai," she deadpaned, bending down beside him. "Let me see your face."

Her hands cupped his face, ignoring or missing the blush surfacing on his cheeks as he stared at her wide-eyed. Gentle fingers brushed the wound's edges, wincing with a tense sigh as she examined the damage. "Yikes. That's gonna leave a bruise."

Damn, she didn't realize the force she had behind her hit. Good to know.

She grabbed him by the hand, taking him inside and into her bathroom, kicking a stool out from behind her toilet with her foot. He looked at her dumbly, watching as she tapped it with her heel. "Have a seat."

He plopped down, looking almost monstrous with his lanky legs bunched awkwardly against the floor of the pintsized room. With bated breath, he watched as (Name) shuffled through her cabinets, having to stretch on her toes and allowing him to admire her in full view. She was wearing a velvety little cocktail dress that cupped her curves and cinched in all the right places—was it getting hot in here? He couldn't help the way his mind wandered, wondering what would happen if he just stood up, grabbing her by the hips and just—

"And there we go." She thumbed a plaster onto his forehead with rhythmic circles, brushing her lips against the material's edge before she placed the medical kit back. He froze at the feeling of her lips, fingers hovering over the spot she kissed—they were so soft—staring at her as she obliviously continued to hum to the radio. But then she stiffened as if snapped out of a trance, turning towards him with a blank expression, though the panic in her eyes was palpable.

"Don't say a word."

He grinned softly, leaning against his palm.

"Wouldn't dream of it, dear."

It was a bar unlike any (Name) had ever seen. The outside sparkled in the peeks of moonlight that escaped through alleyways, contrasting the warmth of browned brick encompassing the walls. It glimmered the further they walked in, arm-in-arm, as excitement bounced between them. Goosebumps crawled up her arm as thumps of pop music chimed out from the entryway, the buzz of anticipation running through her veins.

The main room was bustling with people, chatting between sips of bubbling champagnes and smooth whiskies. A ginormous bar was the centerpiece, lined with aged-metal chairs lit with LED lights. Warm backlights illuminated a collection of rums, bourbons, whiskeys, and wines she had never seen before, making her mouth dry. One of the bartenders, clad in an all-black suit, poured another patron a sweet drink, vicariously feeling the antsiness of alcohol settling into her system.

"Can't believe you're looking at him like that and not me," Dazai whispered into her ear, tickling her skin.

She hid her flustered expression with a jab to his side—Dazai did look quite handsome now that she had a better look at him. He was decked out in a black suit jacket, unbuttoned to reveal a dark red vest and white dress shirt underneath, topped off with a tie. Her favorite part had to be his hair, which was pined to the side, allowing her to see how his rich, chocolate-brown eyes bloomed in the heated light.

Part of her was tempted to run a hand through the soft, bouncy waves. Maybe if she just—

"Something on your mind, dear?" he asked, his voice low as they settled into seats at the bar.

She perked from her daydreams, shaking her head. "Nope. Just thinking about what to drink."

He huffed, amused with a cocked brow. "Are you sure about—"

"What can I get you two tonight?" a bartender asked promptly, and (Name) couldn't help but internally thank him for his impeccable timing.

"I'll have a French 65."

Dazai hummed at her choice, though he already figured she would pick something along those lines, eyes scanning the bottles of alcohol for a second. "And I'll have a Negroni."

The bartender whipped up their drinks with a flick of his wrist, and she couldn't be but stare at the burbling liquid as it poured out of the strainer and into a tall glass, sliding with a clink in front of her. She lifted the glass to her lips, savoring the hints of citrus within layers of bourbon and champagne.

The bar continued to become more crowded, not surprising due to its popularity among tourists and affluent residents of the city. She couldn't help how she stiffened as they touched shoulder-to-shoulder, packed in by the crowd; her heart thumped inside her chest—she couldn't tell whether it was due to the adrenaline of the alcohol or the proximity of their bodies.

"—and then he smacked me! Can you believe it? Me!" Dazai raved, an alcohol-induced flush on his cheeks.

She merely giggled, pushing his shoulder with her free hand. "Poor Kunikida. That man has to deal with your—"

"Hey, sweetheart."

Another person slid up in the seat beside her, replacing the sweet but drunk woman who had previously sat there. She stared at him, a man with greasy blonde hair and eyebags that rivaled a raccoon, with bewilderment. The exhaustion of the day had settled deep within her bones, her sass dulled by the alcohol and blanketing warmth of the bar atmosphere.

"Can I help you?" she asked, raising a brow. Dazai stiffened behind her, his muscles growing tense as he stared at the man with equal scrutiny.

The man grinned. "I was just wonderin' what a pretty lady like you is doin' here all by your lonesome."

"I'm not—"

To her utter annoyance, he cut her off again and placed a sweaty hand on her arm. "How 'bout you come back to my place, eh?" She winced as the smell of beer hit her nose, trying to scoot away. "And I'll treat ya' to some dinner."

A bandaged hand settled against her back. "I'm afraid she's with me."

The stranger merely laughed at Dazai, and even (Name) couldn't help noticing how fingers twitched around her waist. "Come on, man. You wouldn't mind sharing, would ya'?" Those sweaty hands caressed her arm, and she couldn't help feeling relief when she realized that she had long sleeves. However, she grimaced at his disgusting insinuation. "A pretty thing like her deserves to be—"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken."

Arms snatched her by the waist, settling her onto Dazai's lap. She could not stop trembling in his arms, eyes wide as his chest met her back—wholly encased in him. Though, she couldn't say she minded too much.

"She's mine." Warm breath bristled against the exposed flesh of her neck, a trill of anticipation traveling up her spine as a hint of arousal shot between her legs. "And someone as short as yourself should probably focus on homework rather than picking up women."

The drunken man shuddered as he felt the stern glare of the former Demon Prodigy, who was eyeing him like a hawk. This was far from the humor Dazai held in his previous conversation, eyes reflecting a past he had tried to leave behind long ago. Cold and irate, like the biting sting of a gun pressed against the temple. The man sputtered his apologies underneath whimpered breath, scrambling to leave his seat as he pushed between weary bystanders.

She watched the stranger leave with a stern stare, slumping against Dazai with a huff of relief. "Heh. Thanks, Dazai." Her eyes tilted down to look at the head propped on her shoulder, only to see burning brown eyes staring at her, his expression unreadable. Analyzing. Sweat gathered on her temple, straightening up as her fight-or-flight response screamed at her, his arms tightening around her waist to trap her against him.

"Dazai?"

He interwove his fingers with hers, pulling her off the bar seat as he led her towards the back of the club. They rushed past varieties of people as the bass of music shook their feet, some chatting while others practically fucked with their clothes on. The smell of alcohol grew stronger as they reached a strange hallway, the former mafia executive pushing her into a single-stall restroom before locking the door behind them.

"D-Dazai—what's going—mmf-!"

He sealed his lips across hers, devouring her whimpers with desperate kisses as he pressed her body against the door. She trembled in his hold, wrapping her arms around his neck as his tongue slid across her bottom lip. It was electrifying, the bubbling sensation of an intoxicating haze slipping between them.

"You're so pretty like this, ya' know?" He trailed kisses across her jawline. "So sexy. And that dress—it was made for you, baby."

Her laughter was almost hysterical, drawing him in with a pull of his tie. "Then I must say that you look quite handsome in that suit of yours, Osamu."

He forced himself to restrain a groan, muffling it into her neck. "I love it when you call me that." His hand drifted to the back of her throat, trailing kisses along the searing skin as her moans mixed with laughter to create an invigorating concoction. "And those sweet little giggles of yours—God, you've got the voice of an angel."

He drew her in with a squeeze to her throat, teasing the skin at the junction of her neck between his teeth. "I've gotta hear more."

Each kiss was calculated, ensuring that her body felt inflamed. She flinched every time Dazai's lips met her now-aching skin, stroking her fingers through his hair, eliciting a low groan from him as she tugged at the soft curls that blanketed his neck.

Her hands fiddled with the edges of his suit jacket, shimmying it down his shoulders and flinging it onto the floor. She wanted him badly—she didn't know if it was the alcohol acting as liquid courage, but as his hands drifted across her breasts, she found that she didn't care.

His lips met hers again, meticulously working her dress up and bunching it around her hips. He pried her legs apart with his hand, settling his knee between them and pressing up. For months, he had thought about the noises she'd make when he touched her like this. But it was better than he had imagined. She practically melted in his mouth, moving her hips in small circles as more noises were withdrawn from her lips.

His hands met her hips again, gently, before squeezing them with a bruise-inducing grip. "Stay still." She froze, unable to hide the thousands of impure thoughts that bounced around her head in reaction to his voice's simple, low rasp. His fingers slipped under the band of her panties, pooling arousal on his fingers as he drew diligent strokes around her sensitive bud, enthralled in the orchestra of pleasure that begged to be brought forth from her lips.

"You're soaked, baby."

"D-Dazai." She bristled, breath hitching as he pried her wet pussy apart. He looked absolutely entranced by the amount of arousal that gathered on his fingers, dipping one inside and then another, watching with predatory eyes as her thighs began to tremble.

His fingers were much longer than hers, hitting spots she could only dream of reaching on her own. "Mmm. You like that, baby?" She cried out as he stretched them out, brushing against her sweet spot. "You like the idea of being full, don't ya'?"

She could merely nod as she threw her head back, being forced still by the hand on her hip.

He littered openmouthed kisses across her jaw, running his tongue across her skin to taste her as he thrust his fingers inside her pussy at an aggravating pace. "You need to be full, right? You want my cock. You want me to fill you up."

"Please, 'Samu—" She batted at his spine, heaving as she pleaded. "Fuck me."

Any of his remaining resolve crumbled in a matter of seconds, sliding his fingers out from between her legs as she whined. Instead, he placed them inside his mouth, opened barely enough to let her see how his tongue wrapped around his fingers, consuming her liquid arousal with a pleased hum.

"How could I refuse when you asked me so nicely?"

He hoisted her by her hips, hands propped against her ass as she was pinned to him, her sensitive, soaked pussy brushing against his strained erection that sat painfully inside his pants. With a flick of his wrists, he pulled her panties off and sat her bare ass down on the frigid marble surface of the counter, spreading her legs with a firm tug as he soaked in how her arousal pooled onto the surface below.

His fingers went to pull at the zipper of his pants, tantalizingly slow. "Look at me." Her eyes shot up to his face, a darkened look in his eye at the way she immediately obeyed his command. "Yeah, that's a good girl."

He leaned forward, the warm scent of gin brushing against her face as he cupped her face, almost drawing her attention from the feeling of his cock resting against her folds. "You're my good girl, right?"

She nodded, staring at him despite the temptations to glance downwards. He only continued to rub his cock against her, with enough irritating pressure to make her want to wrap her legs around his hips but not enough to make her mind go blank. Her brows furrowed, a pleading pout evident in the beginnings of her lips.

He only grinned.

"Come on, baby. I need'ta hear you say it."

Her mind was hazy, too fogged to connect her abstract thoughts through the heat. Words tumbled out of her mouth faster than she could process them. "Please, Dazai—I need you. Please, please—I'll be good, please—" She let out a yelp as he slapped her thighs, hands working to relieve the sensitive skin as he moved his cock away.

"You're almost there, sweet girl," he cooed, condescension as heavy as the liquor in his breath. "You know what to say. Come on."

Her muscles screamed at her as she did everything in her power to remain upright, wanting to give into the fantasy of crumpling over and letting him pound into her while she lay limp. Not yet. She always knew that he would be the type to tease, to make a woman work a bit for what they wanted. She just didn't realize how infuriating it would be—not that she had the will to complain.

She just wanted to be full.

"Please, 'Samu. I'll be good—I'll be your good girl, I promise." Her rambling ceased with a shudder as he slid his cock inside her, immediately trying to buck her hips forward to take more. He only smiled at her impatience, filling her to the brim as her pussy quivered around his cock.

"That's right." He kissed the seared skin near her collarbone. "You're mine."

She couldn't control herself as he began to pump in and out of her, salacious cries of his name pouring into the open air with just the music of the club outside to deafen the sounds of their pornographic escapade. Her nails caught onto the fabric of his shirt, scratching at any sliver of unbandaged skin to create crescent scars.

He groaned at the perfect fit, eyes rolled back at the sheer bliss of it all. She was so much better than the stupid fleshlight he had been using almost every night, too pent up from the sight of her at work every day. This was so much better.

He finally had the real deal, and he wasn't gonna let her go.

"That bastard thought he could put his hands on you." His voice had darkened, becoming guttural as his grip on her hips tightened. "He probably thought he'd be the one doing this to you. Taking you back to his dinky little apartment and prying you apart." And a part of her wanted him to leave a bruise, a reminder that this wasn't some lustful wet dream.

He chuckled, holding onto her like an anchor as he found his rhythm. "But I'm the only one who gets to see you like this."

His hand wrapped around her throat, strained moans escaping from her kiss-bruised lips as he squeezed down. "To touch you like this." He pinned her down, flattening her to the counter with each thrust, relishing in the way she clenched down on him the deeper he went. "To fuck you like this."

"F-Fuck-'Samu–" she whined, her stomach twisting in knots from the pressure of his cock, growing even wetter from the edge of a snarl in his voice.

He chuckled, his other hand crawling up her chest, pressing against her breast to feel her heave. Her back arched up to his touch despite how the grip on her throat grew tighter, making her feel lightheaded. "You like that, don't you? Like being mine?" The way she tightened around him was the only answer he needed, mindless babbles escaping her mouth. He released her throat with one last little squeeze, smearing her remaining lipstick across her cheek with his thumb. "Good. You'll have to get used to that, baby."

She grabbed onto his shoulder, bringing him into another searing kiss as her impending release approached, her arousal already creating a puddle as it dripped off the counter and onto the floor. He rasped against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth to devour more.

"Scream for me, baby."

Her vision went white as she let out a loud, debauched moan of his name, rocking her hips to his ceaseless thrusts as she chased through her release. He jerked at the feeling of her pussy fluttering around him, pumping into her as he groaned into her mouth, spit trailing from his lips as he panted, bracing himself against the counter.

"Fuck."

If he had to pick his favorite sight of the night, it would be this very moment. Here she was in front of him, his beautiful co-worker, dress disheveled and makeup smudged by her tears as she creamed on his cock. God, he could feel himself getting hard again already, watching carnivorously as her legs trembled, eyes closing in exhaustion. His hands traced through her sweat-slicked baby hairs, thumbing her dress down as best he could while he leaned into her. Part of him would've been okay with falling asleep right here, basking in the afterglow.

But the music outside served as a reminder.

He glanced up from his place, nuzzling her neck, mischief already drawn in his eyes.

"We're not done, love. We're heading back to my place."

taglist: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @ishqani @sillyspookycat

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#f!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [dazai]#౨ৎ˚ ⎼ [afterhours]#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd #dazai smut

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syntheticavenger · 3 months

Text

On My Mama - Four

As I said... my version of a rom com.

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Female Reader

Tyler Rake x Female Reader

Andy Barber x Female Reader

Jax Teller x Female Reader

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, breeding kink (brief), jealousy, angst, mentions of divorce, co-parenting, a touch of possessiveness (blink and you'll miss it), a nice surprise at the end.

Summary | Being a single mom with a complicated relationship with your ex-husband makes for an interesting summer after a school event and an unexpected errand puts you front and center with some eligible contenders for your attention.

Josefina places the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter, surveying the kitchen with a frown. Her niece will be here within days, her brother mentioning her arrival like it’s a national holiday. She knows he’ll give her an earful about everything she’s bought but she doesn’t care – cookies and cereal aren’t going to start any bad habits – and as she starts putting things away, she hears soft footsteps, looking over her shoulder at a woman clad in a workout bra and leggings, sizing her up before Josefina closes the cupboard, turning around to look at the leggy brunette.

“You must be Josefina,” the woman says, giving her a smile that Josefina does not return. “I’m -”

“Julianna,” she answers for her. “I know who you are.”

“Santi has told me so much about you.”

She’s straining to make conversation, the slight edge of her voice so fake that it makes Josefina’s teeth hurt. Wherever he found this one, it’s another square that won’t fit the whole in the peg that he’s looking for.

“Funny,” Josefina speaks up, folding one of her bags before placing it on the table. “He’s never mentioned you.”

Julianna doesn’t seemed please by her comment but at the moment, Josefina doesn’t care. She’s seen them come and go, watching them try to stake their claim on her brother like a piece of meat, knowing that they won’t last.

This one in particular seems to be irritated that she wasn’t mentioned. Truthfully, none of them get past the few dates. The only one that stuck around was you and for a time, their parents were pleased that Santiago had finally settled down.

This one is all wrong, right down to the long acrylic nails and too perfect hair.

“We’re… getting to know each other.”

“By spending the night? Hmm,” Josefina says with a nod, continuing on to unpack the next bag of groceries. “Did you need something?”

“I was just leaving, actually.” Julianna’s voice takes on a harder tone, one that Josefina knows all too well.

The uncomfortable silence that falls between the two women is interrupted by Santiago, who stops in his tracks at the sight of his sister who looks behind Julianna to look him squarely in the eyes. She can tell by his expression that he doesn’t want her to cause a scene or say something that could start an argument.

“Nice to meet you,” Josefina says with a short smile.

There is a shuffle of footsteps and a close of a door, Josefina finishing her task before she feels her brother’s presence again. Whatever words had been spoken at the door had been in haste, Santiago’s voice hard as steel before the door had closed abruptly.

“Another one?” she asks, Santiago leaning against the counter, arms crossed as he looks at the floor. “She seemed… peppy. If that’s your type, I guess…”

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Santiago mutters, Josefina putting up her hands in defense.

“I didn’t ask! That’s your business.”

He doesn’t look like he believes her, Josefina busying herself by pouring him coffee. He’s clearly in no mood to banter back and forth, even if she wants to engage him in the conversation.

“I know,” Santiago replies, taking the cup she hands him. “It’s over, in case you’re wondering. If it even started.”

“I saw the duffle bag by the door,” she admits sheepishly. “She looked ready to go.”

“She asked about when she could see Mia.”

“Too soon,” Josefina agrees as he nods in agreement. “I’m guessing it was more than that?”

“It always is. I have boundaries, Fina. It was three weeks of dating, if you could call it that.”

Josefine perches herself on the counter, placing another folded bag next to her. She knows her brother has his own rules when it comes to women but she’s never seen him this irritated, the dismissal of the woman strong in his tone.

“What don’t you call your boundary what it is?”

“And what is that?” he inquires sarcastically.

When she says your name, Santiago scoffs.

“We’re not having this discussion.”

“You didn’t say I was wrong,” Josefina protests. “You can continue to lie to yourself, big brother but I know you best. You don’t just go over there early for Mia. You go over here for her. You shouldn’t have divorced in the first place.”

“Josefina,” he warns, the mug clinking on the counter. “Don’t start.”

“Who’s starting? I’m telling the truth. You didn’t move out of this house after the divorce.”

“Why should I? It’s mine.”

“It’s too big,” Josefina protests, hopping off the counter when he walks away. “Don’t walk away from me. It’s too big, Santi. You work too much, you come home to an empty house and maybe that’s why you don’t always return my calls. You’re depressed about being in this big house.”

It’s a stretch and she knows it – he’s been busy and she’s seen his packed schedule, one week in Spain and another in London, all for the name of business.

“I’m busy, Josefina. Plain and simple.”

She should stop while she’s ahead. By the pecking order of siblings, she’s technically on thin ice with all of her poking and prodding of his personal life.

“Oh? That dinner with Mia? It wasn’t just her,” Josefina hints.

“She’s her mother, of course she would be there.”

“Lucian is one of her favorite restaurants. You used to take her there all the time.”

“We’re not having this discussion.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to, okay? I have to pick up Mia tomorrow and I have her for a whole week. I don’t want to discuss the past, Fina. Nothing is going to change it, no matter how much you want it to. We’ve both moved on.”

Santiago heads up the stairs, leaving Josefina alone, looking at a picture of Santiago holding Mia when she was barely a year ago, his arm around you as you looked up at him and Mia on a cruise. It’s a picture that used to be his lock screen, now one of just Mia smelling a rose during a walk in a garden, no sign of you anywhere.

“Sure,” Josefina says to herself, looking up at the ceiling as she hears a door close. “You’ve moved on.”

🔥

“Did you get the invite?”

Laurie’s question makes you pause before you give an answer, index finger tapping on the bottle of sprinkles on the cupcakes you’re decorating. It’s a day before Mia’s last day of school and you’d promised her you’d bake cupcakes for her class, something you’re barely finishing after a long day of work.

“For the barbeque? I did, yeah,” you respond, feeling her eyes on you. “I didn’t say if I was going or not because I didn’t know if would be weird or -”

“Weird? God, no,” Laurie interrupts with a laugh. “He has it every year and had it before we were even divorced. I think you should go. Seriously.”

“That’s not weird? I mean, he probably was trying to be nice.”

“No,” Laurie denies, tapping more sprinkles onto the cupcakes. “He’s always thought you were beautiful.”

“Laurie!”

“Well, he did. I thought Santiago was hot when I met him. There’s all these dumb rules, right? You can’t think someone is handsome or beautiful because they’re married? Or they’re a friend of yours? It’s a physical attraction.”

“He was your husband.”

“He’s not anymore. Listen, if I had to pick the next person he started dating, I’d go with someone like you.”

“Laurie, stop it,” you laugh, trying to reach for the sprinkles as she holds it up high.

“Do you like Andy?”

“What?”

“Do you like Andy?” she repeats.

“I barely know him.”

“He likes you,” Laurie says with a grin, looking down at her handiwork. “It’s not a crime to like someone. I, unfortunately, won’t be in attendance at his annual party. My dear old Uncle Ellis decided it was his time to go and there’s a funeral service that I want to miss but I know I shouldn’t. Seriously, I think you should go. Meet other parents, there’s a giant pool and all the food you can eat. You can watch all the men grunt around the barbeque pit when the flames get too high. A circle jerk of meat lovers.”

You do laugh then, Laurie giving you a wink.

“It’s a summer party. What could go wrong?”

🔥

He parks his SUV next to yours, sliding out of the driver’s seat. He’s casual for once, dressed down in a pair of khakis and a black shirt. For the last day of kindergarten, most of the mothers are already in tears, patiently waiting to embrace their children as an important year of their growth and development comes to a close and with it, another milestone that is on the horizon: first grade.

He knows you aren’t ready to discuss it, especially now when your dark sunglasses hide your eyes, your hand lifting to wave to him when you open the trunk, pulling out Mia’s suitcase that he takes from you with ease, moving it over to his car.

“Cake and ice cream?” you ponder out loud, Santiago breaking into a smile at your question.

“It’s what our daughter wants. Who am I to deny her?”

You go silent for a moment, Santiago seeing you focus on a truck that comes into view. He wants to ask you about the date that you haven’t mentioned, wondering if it’s anyone around you.

Or maybe the driver of the truck that makes you look away when they park.

“I had lunch at Arcana for a business deal,” he says, you attention back to him. “I’m happy to report they still have your lemon bar.”

You hum in approval, Santiago seeing a smile appear on your face. Arcana was your first date, Santiago pulling out all the stops to make sure he got a reservation that night.

“I miss that place.”

The school bell rings, loud and ear piercing, as children pour out of the classrooms, backpacks bumping along amid screams of happiness, parents surging toward the gates as they yell out to their kids.

“I miss you,” he confesses, your head turning at his statement, the scruff of sneakers on pavement getting louder before he’s attacked by Mia, wrapping her arms around her father’s legs.

“You’re here!” she shouts, Santiago picking her up as she places her arms around his neck in a near chokehold. She doesn’t let go, her head buried into his neck.

“It’s alright,” he says against the shell of her ear, her tiny fingers pulling on his shirt. He knows she won’t let him put her down. “I got you.”

“I got scared,” Mia whimpers.

“About what, mini?”

“I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I did, I’m right here. I love you.”

He presses a kiss to her temple, her face still hidden from view.

“I love you, Daddy,” Mia whispers, her head on his shoulder when she looks at her mother. “Hi Mommy.”

She reaches out her free hand to you and you take it, the three of you connected for a moment before your attention goes to Tyler, Hunter pulling him over to say goodbye to Mia.

“Santiago,” Tyler greets, Santiago shifting Mia so that he can shake Tyler’s hand, Hunter shifting his feet. He can tell the little boy wants to leave, Tyler striking up a conversation with you that he can’t focus on because Hunter keeps interrupting.

“My dad is getting pizza,” Hunter announces, Mia turning her head at his news. “Cause school is done.”

Mia cranes her neck to look at her father and for a minute, he hopes she doesn’t ask to attend. He has a whole week off to devote just to his daughter and the last thing he wants is to share it with more children and a man who is currently giving eyes at you.

“I want cake,” Mia says, Hunter making a face at her comment.

“Pizza is good,” Hunter replies, Tyler and Santiago sharing a look.

“Why don’t we get pizza and Mia and her dad can get cake, hmm?”

“Okay,” Hunter agrees, Tyler turning him around to herd him back to the truck. “Bye Mia!”

“You ready to go?” Santiago asks her, Mia nodding.

Placing her into her car seat, he steps back to let you say goodbye, Mia giggling when you kiss her cheek.

“I love you. Be good for Daddy, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” she agrees, sighing dramatically when she looks out the window. “I miss school already.”

“You’ll be back before you know it,” you promise her, stepping back from the car, bumping into him as he steadies you.

“I’ll make sure to send you pictures.”

“I hope so.”

“See you in a week.”

“I hope we’re not cramping your style with your dates,” you tease, Santiago pausing at your words. He knows you’re being sarcastic so he answers in a way that he knows you’ll understand.

“Dating isn’t working out for me at the moment. I’ve got a priority and that’s Mia.”

He gives you a nod, closing the back passenger door and getting into the driver’s seat, the passenger side window lowering quickly before he speaks.

“We’ll be in touch.”

🔥

Admittedly, you’re fashionably late after trying on swimsuits, unsure of why you’re even going to wear one – not like you’re going to hop in the pool. Still, you settle on a one piece with a cut out, pulling on a pair of shorts and a loose shirt. Nervousness bubbles up in your belly, mentally trying to talk yourself out of it, even though Andy had sent you a text a day prior to check to see if you were still coming, which you had hastily replied that you would be there.

Cars line the curbs, the smell of barbeque in the air when you head up the steps, holding a tray of appetizers. He’d told you not to worry about bringing anything but it felt wrong to come empty handed, holding a case of beer in your other hand. The awkward walk to the front door isn’t long, the door opening as Andy immediately plucks the case of beer from your hand, shaking in his head in amusement.

“You’re making the rest of the guests look bad,” Andy greets you, opening the door wider, taking the appetizer tray from you before you can protest. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know, but thank you.”

“I didn’t want to come empty handed.”

You follow him into the house, the large living room decorated minimally, hearing music get louder when you pass down the hallway. You can hear a loud splash, people laughing and the scent of sunscreen wafting through the air when you reach the kitchen.

“Help yourself to anything you want,” he offers, seeing you look at the food that is carefully lined up on the counters. “We’ve got beer, cocktails, juice, water, you name it.”

“Thanks, Andy,” you reply, seeing him close the fridge after placing the case of beer inside.

He hands you a beer, looking over at heavily attended party in the big backyard.

“So many people,” you murmur.

“You don’t have to go out there and mingle. Half the people that show up come for the free food and beer, not that I can blame them. No pressure to say hello of course, you’re welcome to stay in the house.”

Your new lock screen is a picture of Mia in the pool, big sunglasses obscuring her face as she lounges on an inflatable donut. You wish you were with her, unsure if you want to go out there and greet people, even if you know it’s good for you to stop being anti-social.

“Alice is outside,” Andy mentions, nodding his head toward the outside. “You’ve met her before, right?”

“I don’t think I have.”

“She’s one of the new teachers at the school. She taught first grade last year.”

“Oh,” you reply, seeing her dance by herself, a margarita in hand. “I’ll have to say hello.”

“She’s new in town so she’s… getting to know people,” Andy says with a laugh when she waves to him.

You see Tyler outside, standing with a group of men when Andy follows your gaze.

“Ah, I think you see someone you know. I’ll leave you to it,” he says with a wink, heading outside.

You aren’t sure what to say at his words, seeing him leave so quickly that you aren’t sure if you offended him or if he had something to do. Opening the sliding glass door, the music is louder, skin on display, people milling around when you realize Andy is nowhere to be found.

Alice, the teacher Andy had told you about, raises her drink to you.

“Ah, you’re here,” she says with a flirtatious grin. “I’ve heard all about you.”

She pats a seat on the bench next to her, plopping yourself down as she looks out at the party.

“Probably a scandal that I’m here,” she says with a shake of her head. “Not that it matters.”

“Scandal?”

“You know,” Alice hints. “I’m a first grade teacher. Not supposed to be in a bikini and shorts, dancing to the music and drinking a marg. But I’ve met a lot of dads… and moms.”

She winks at you, her personality putting you at ease.

“How do you know Andy?”

“I, uh,” you pause, laughing at your answer. “I’m friends with Laurie.”

“No way,” Alice whispers, looking out over the crowd. “I don’t see her anywhere. I see Andy.”

You look up, a petite woman wiping something off his cheek. It’s an intimate moment that you can’t look away from, Alice titling her head at the scene, sipping her margarita. The woman laughs at something he says, Andy whispering against her ear as she nods.

“She’s thirsty,” Alice theorizes, seeing Andy hold onto her hands, taking a step back as she looks at him. “Even he knows it.”

You can feel her eyes still on you. You feel like you’re under a microscope, Alice narrowing her eyes at you.

“Do you know her?”

Shaking your head, Alice leans back on her hands after placing her margarita on the counter.

“I do. She’s another teacher. St. Mary’s, I think? We graduated around the same time, went to the same university. The Barbers are lapsed Catholics,” Alice informs you, thinking for a moment. “Or they were. She’s trying to save his soul.”

“He’s single,” you point out, Alice nodding.

“He’s not interested in her. She’s been at it since I got here. He’s been distracted.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Alice repeats. “Looking for his guest of honor that he found. I wonder who that could be.”

She stands, stretching before reaching for her glass, downing the rest of her margarita. “I’m sure there’s a swimsuit under there. Have a swim with me before it’s all over.”

Leaving you alone, she grabs a hot dog from the grill master, who is all too happy to check her out as she leaves, hot dog in hand.

Finishing your beer, you scan the crowd, your stomach rumbling, an indication that you need to eat.

“Hungry?” Tyler asks, making you look up. He’s blocking the sun, aviators on while his damp hair sticks to his forehead, tattooed muscled chest on display.

“Oh, hey.”

It’s entirely too early to think about kissing him again, a secret that you wonder if people around him know.

“What can I get you?”

“I can get it,” you respond, taking the hand that he offers, his hold lingering a little before he lets it go.

He walks with you toward the grill, close enough that your hands brush together. It isn’t that you haven’t texted him, both of you busy with work and your respective kids. Enough conversation to know that he would be there but that you would decide if you were going to show.

“What do you think?”

“It’s definitely more than I expected,” you confess, moving out of the way of two women who are dancing with each other. “Didn’t know Andy was into parties.”

“Once a year,” Tyler answers. “Then it’s back to his usual rule following. Sort of nice to get an invite this year, considering…”

He trails off, shaking his head when you look at him curiously at his sly remark.

“Nevermind,” he continues, giving you a grin. “Hot dog or hamburger?”

🔥

Vanessa has directed her attention to one his colleagues, Saul, who is enjoying the attention. For a party that he organizes every year, this one has been one for the books, cracking open another beer, getting updates from his mother about Jacob. Not a word from Laurie, who usually wants a play by play of the scandalous details of the partygoers.

Unfortunately for her, almost every guest is behaving.

Per his unspoken rule, most will be out of here before sundown, the cleaning crews diverging on his property to scrub any existence of the barbeque.

For now, he’s content to watch you fold your shirt carefully on the chair, shimmy out of your shorts, your body showcased in the one-piece swimsuit, carefully making your way into the pool. There’s something to be said about Tyler Rake, who follows you into the pool, beer in hand as you’re locked in a conversation with him.

Andy finishes his beer, tossing the bottle into the recycling bin without looking, his phone vibrating in his pocket. Looking at the number, he doesn’t answer it, seeing you place your hand on Tyler’s chest when someone swims past you, using him as leverage as his arm wraps around the small of your back.

Tyler and Andy’s eyes lock, Tyler nodding his head toward Andy, Alice swimming up to you when you leave him. Tyler gets out of the pool, telling you and Alice something before he picks up his phone, a towel around his shoulders.

As the host of this party, Andy maneuvers around the crowd, checking to make sure everyone is having a good time, the pool beginning to empty out as the sun begins to make its slow descent.

Alice gets out of the pool, wrapping a towel around herself.

“Leaving so soon?” Andy asks her, Alice nodding with a half-lidded eyes.

“You sure know how to throw a party but I promised I’d help my sister move tomorrow and if I stay any longer, I know I won’t want to help her tomorrow,” Alice teases, slipping her shoes on. “I appreciate the invitation, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy,” he corrects her, seeing her collect her things while you make your way out of the pool, no sign of Tyler anywhere. “Did you need me to call you an Uber?”

Alice waves him away.

“A Lyft is on the way!”

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving too,” Andy calls out to you, seeing your head swing toward his direction at the sound of his voice. “I barely got to talk to you.”

“You’ve been popular,” you speak up.

He knows that you saw him, peeling Vanessa’s hands off of him as she tried to come on to him.

“Popular? I guess you didn’t see everyone looking at you,” Andy replies.

You wrap a towel around your middle, looking for your sandals.

“They don’t look at me,” you laugh. “You had a nice line up of people wanting your attention.”

“So you were checking me out?”

He can see you blink in confusion, unsure of what to say.

“Vanessa?” he asks, seeing you shrug. “Not my type.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” you protest softly, Andy enjoying how flustered you’re getting.

“So, you were looking at me.”

“I just wanted to thank you for inviting me.”

“Oh?” Andy picks up your sandals as you reach for them. “Relax.”

Sitting on the pool chair, he crouches down, helping you slip on your sandals, his hands warm on your wet skin, using the towel to help pat dry your skin.

“Thank you, Andy,” you respond, seeing Tyler come into view, engaging in a quick conversation with someone who catches him when he comes from around the corner.

“Don’t mention it. You don’t have to go so soon, you know.”

People know his rule, but he knows you don’t.

“I probably shouldn’t be the last one here,” you murmur.

“Why not?”

He sees you swallow, knowing you don’t have a reason.

“People could talk.”

“I’m sure they would,” Andy says, looking over at Tyler, who doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “But what could they possibly say? Two single parents dared to have a conversation?”

You’re silent at his words, Andy standing at his full height when he helps you up, the towel still wrapped around you.

Almost as if he knows what Andy is thinking, Tyler signals to you, reaching you in record time while you search for your shirt and shorts.

“Hey,” he says, both of them watching you search for your clothes. “Everything okay?”

“I swore I put my shirt and shorts down over there,” you point, Andy looking over at the pool chairs. “Unless someone took them.”

“I can help you look,” Tyler offers, heading over as he searches.

“Or someone took them,” Andy reminds him dryly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I’ll have to borrow your towel,” you joke, Andy shaking his head while Tyler raises up his arms in confusion after searching under each chair.

“I think Andy’s right, someone took your clothes. Probably mistook them for theirs,” Tyler says. “Do you want to borrow my shirt?”

Andy interrupts before you have a chance to answer.

“Sometimes people try to be helpful and they toss the clothes inside so they don’t get wet. Come inside and I’ll look.”

Tyler looks at his watch, following you both into the house. Andy pulls out a chair for you, Tyler waiting for Andy to finish his search when Andy rounds the corner. He know he probably won’t find anything but it’s worth a search anyway.

“Rake,” Andy calls out. “Do me a favor, will you? Can you let Saul know he needs to turn off the grill? He’ll tell you yes. Can you make sure he actually does?”

At the open and close of the sliding glass door, Andy grabs one of his shirts, coming back into the kitchen, seeing you sit, replying to a text message.

“Looks like nothing turned up but you’re welcome to one of my shirts,” he offers, handing it to you as you eagerly put it on.

There’s something about the way you look in his shirt, something he’d thought about days prior. He’d meant to give you in the invitation in person but like always, work had gone into overtime, pouring over case files that had taken up much of his time.

Still, you’d been on his mind, Laurie casually sharing that she had been proud of you for taking the step to date. He could put two and two together. With how much you’d been on his mind, sleep never came easy and sending the late-night invitation text had been risky but it had paid off.

“It looks good on you,” Andy tells you, seeing Tyler still talk to Saul, pointing to the grill.

“Thank you.”

“How’s Mia doing with school being out?”

“She’s excited. She said she missed school but we’ve got a lot planned for her,” you tell him, correcting yourself quickly. “Santiago has his plans and I have my own. She’ll have a busy summer.”

“Jacob’s got a summer camp coming up but Laurie’s having second thoughts since he’s still young. I’d have to agree. Maybe next year but not now.”

Andy’s phone vibrates again but he ignores it, looking at the time, focusing on you listening to what he’s saying.

“I don’t think I could be away from Mia for that long either.”

“I agree,” he says. “It’s bad enough he’s away with his grandmother this week.”

“Mia’s with her dad this week too.”

Andy sees Saul point to the knobs on the grill, Tyler nodding.

“Free time for a whole week,” Andy draws out. “What’s a girl like you to do.”

“No idea.”

“Crazy idea but,” Andy pauses, seeing them start to head back in. “Maybe we could find a day or evening to do something? I’d like to get to know you better. Being in my shirt notwithstanding.”

Touching the fabric of his shirt, he waits for his answer, seeing Tyler and Saul get closer.

“I’d like that,” you affirm, Andy seeing Tyler reach for the door.

“You just made my week.”

🔥

The cleaners come quickly, Andy waving you goodbye as you get into your car with his shirt on and the towel around your waist. He doesn’t mind that you walked out with Tyler, nor that he gave you a hug before you parted. Saul, who had too much to drink, waits in the passenger seat for Andy to take him home.

After he’s dropped off Saul with his wife, he finally looks at his phone, dialing a number back.

“You know my rule,” Andy greets the caller when they answer. “Never before eight.”

“Bit of an emergency, Barber. You know I wouldn’t call if I didn’t need the help.”

Andy slows to a stop, pulling near the curb while he wonders what could necessitate such a phone call.

“What’s the emergency?” Andy asks.

“I need you to find me another lawyer.”

“What happened with Olivia?”

“Considering she’s trying to get me to agree to split custody while simultaneously trying to sleep with me? That’s a hard fucking pass.”

Andy shakes his head in frustration. Family Law wasn’t his thing and Olivia had come highly recommended.

“Barber?”

“I’m here,” he responds, pulling away from the curb. “You need another lawyer. She was a referral.”

“Then refer me to someone better.”

“It’ll take a few days. I’ve been busy.”

“Sooner rather than later?”

“What’s the rush?” Andy asks, hearing the voice on the other end exhale loudly.

“Things took a turn for the worse and she’s got a good lawyer, one who will lie for her. I’m not putting my son in that environment. You’re a father too, Barber. You of all people should know how important this is.”

“I get it,” he answers him. “Surprised you didn’t want to take her up on her offer, though. That’s very professional of you.”

“Quality over quantity,” the voice says on the other end.

“I’ll find you someone,” Andy agrees.

“Thank you.”

“But Teller? If you call me again before eight, this consulting work I help you with? It’s done if you disrespect my boundaries.”

He can hear Jax scoff, loud music playing in the background.

“You got it, Barber."

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia x female reader #santiago garcia x reader #tyler rake #tyler rake x you #tyler rake x female reader #tyler rake x reader #andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #jax teller #jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller x female reader

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neoameba · 7 months

Text

It is necessary to escape the routine sometimes!

F. Toji x Ftm! Reader

Warnings: This is a trans man/boy centered post, but you (fem, gn, and non-trans) can still safely interact with the post. Toji and reader were not a romantic couple before reader turned 18. It's more for comfort, made especially to give those silly smiles.

Summary: Naturally, every rich man needs a heir. And it’s obvious that it wouldn’t be any different for someone who works directly in the Japanese government. That’s where the problem lies. Being the vice president of a country and doing so much for the poorest and most needy people, while taking away unnecessary privileges from rich people, makes his head a target and his family as well.

When [Name] was born, his mother fell ill due to blood loss, and soon died from complications in the surgery that was supposed to save her (it is important to mention that, after her death, a bounty on the woman’s head was announced in the deepest areas of the internet, It is not known whether the mission was accepted). This generated extreme fear in the man and, as a result, he ended up becoming extremely protective of the inheritance that the woman in his life left for him.

All of this only got worse when [Name] revealed he was a trans boy at 15 years old. The reason why the vice president of Japan was even more scared (thankfully) is not because he is trans, but because of what people would do if he found out. Think about it, if people already wish the boy’s death just because he was his son, imagine if they found out that [Name] is a trans boy?

Of course, the man did the impossible to erase [Name’s] old image, to pass him off as a cis boy. Still, it’s difficult to stop the rumor from spreading.

That’s where Toji Fushiguro comes in.

It's curious to think that Toji, the sorcerer killer, could actually be tasked with protecting someone. But that’s exactly what happened, [Name]’s father actually put Toji as the boy’s bodyguard. And this went on for 6 years.

“Hey! Can you stop pulling me, I have legs and they are very functional!”

[Name] says, only to continue being pulled towards some place unknown to him thus far. He didn’t understand anything, and Toji didn’t want to explain what he was doing either.

Finally, the two stop in front of a house. It wasn’t ugly, it just looked like it wasn’t well looked after from the outside.

“Huh? Is this your house?”

“Yes, and I want to introduce you to my son... What was his name...?"

Toji says the last part quietly, but it still gets a low laugh from [Name], who thinks the older man was just joking. Even he knew Megumi's name because Toji said it himself. And after all, who would forget their own child’s name?

As soon as the tallest one opens the door to the house, [Name] is faced with a heart-wrenching sight. There was Toji Fushiguro’s son, eating snacks for breakfast in complete silence and alone, in na environment clearly not prepared for a child

As soon as [Name] sees this, a slap is landed on the head of the man next to him, who moans softly in pain. The slap was weak, but Toji didn’t want to be so mean and say he didn’t feel any pain from the impact.

“How dare you leave a poor little child in these unsanitary conditions?!”

“It’s not my fault if I have to spend the whole day with you. Besides, the kid knows his way around, you see?”

Megumi turns around, looking at his father with disinterest, but then looking at the boy next to him. This time, he seemed more interested, and got up to walk towards the boy.

“... You’re the guy he talks about so much, right? Cool. Nice to meet you.”

Little Fushiguro says, surprising [Name]. It’s a lot of education for just one child (especially for a child who is the son of a man like Toji).

“Nice to meet you too! You're very polite, right?"

When [Name] goes to shake the boy’s hand, he realizes that although it may not seem like it, Toji probably takes care of the boy, as he shows no signs of being thin beyond what is healthy.

"Tell me something, little Megumi...Does Toji take care of you or just leave you to your own devices?"

Megumi shakes [Name]'s hand, and shrugs, indicating that it was a little of both. Obviously Toji pays for food and a few other things, but Megumi is the one who cleans the house and already acts like an adult.

"I'm very busy, if you must know."

"That doesn't give you the right to leave him to his own devices."

"You're really just here to judge, ugh."

Before [Name] could counter argue, he chose to remain silent. He holds Megumi's hand and prepares to tidy up the house and make good, dignified food, since it seems unlikely that Megumi has eaten anything healthy these past few weeks.

"Megumi, let's tidy up this whole house. And you Toji, we'll talk about it later."

Toji seemed to be both unsatisfied and happy. Unsatisfied because he couldn't imagine being scolded like that, and happy to see his son and his boyfriend getting along so well. He sits on the couch as he watches the two boys tidy up the house (and no, he doesn't plan on helping).

And speaking of a boyfriend... He would never have imagined that he would date someone of the same gender as him. He never even considered being with a man, but destiny can always surprise. Everything has been so peaceful after he and [Name] started dating, he can just sit on a couch and watch a good television show while cuddling with his boyfriend. [Name] actually managed to get Toji over the loss of his wife, which is a miracle.

While he is absorbed in his own thoughts, Megumi and [Name] finish tidying everything up. This made for a good few hours, and by the end, both the youngest and oldest boy were dead tired. Megumi goes to his own room and throws himself on the bed, while [Name] throws himself into Toji's lap.

"... That was so tiring... You could have helped!"

"You didn't call me, I didn't think I needed to help with anything."

The man says, as he gently squeezes one of [Name]'s cheeks with his left hand, and with his right hand he squeezes his waist. The smell of cleaning products on [Name]'s clothes were incredibly good, and Toji didn't even remember buying them. He buries his face in the crook of the boy's neck, eliciting a laugh from [Name].

"Of course we needed your help! But it's okay, the food is up to you, go make it soon because your son is hungry. And try to take good care of him, unless you want me to slap you again."

[Name] says, as he gets off Toji's lap. He wanted Toji to make the food so that at least Megumi could eat something his father lovingly made. Well, he still doesn't know that Toji is terrible at cooking.

And everything goes like this. [Name] going to take a shower, only to almost faint when he felt big hands on his waist, Toji burning the food and [Name] having to redo everything together with Megumi, Megumi accidentally revealing that he likes watching Barbie movies, and in the end, everyone watching Barbie in the living room.

Sounds like a perfect day, don't you think?

#Spotify #jujutsu kaisen #male reader #jjk #ftm reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x male reader #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months

Text

Do it for Him | Do You Even Love Me? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Voicing the thoughts that had been on your mind for so long leaves you broken and regretting every decision you've ever made. Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 1.1k~ Warnings: An argument and some explicit language (kinda but not really) a/n: This is a hypothetical situation and is NOT what happens in the story. Oc and Jungkook don't end up together and I'll be writing another bonus chapter about how everything ends but this is simply a longer drabble that I just decided to make into a bonus chapter since I think some of you would be interested in reading it 😁 P.s. Requested by an annon 💜 (also written in one sitting so ignore any mistakes lol) Series Masterlist

"How was your day today?" I ask half heartedly, wondering if he'll actually speak to me like a human being today or skip to having sex again like he's done almost every time he's come to visit lately.

"It was fine but I don't want to talk about work since it looks like someone's been missing me huh?" he taunts, taking my want for interaction with him as a sign of an insatiable hunger he wishes I shared.

"I did miss you but I missed being with you, not just sex" I say, pressing on his chest to keep some space between us to show I'm serious and want to talk about this.

He stops and waits for me to continue but his eyes don't leave my body for a second.

"When I told you I loved you I didn't mean for our life to end up like this" I say, referring to the way we've been living for the past year.

"What's wrong? Did you need something else? You have my credit card and I told you before that you didn't have to ask me for anything. If you want it then get it. It's the least I could do for my beautiful Angel" he says while caressing my face but I take a step back, not letting him put me under his spell again.

"I'm not talking about money Jungkook. I'm talking about how I told you I didn't want to live as 'The other woman'. You told me you were going to get a divorce and let the children and I move in with you. Not just have you pop by at this separate house you have us living in" I say.

He turns around and heads to the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water and placing the cup down on the counter. "I told you I would take care of it" he growls out while leaning both hands against the sink, clearly not appreciating the topic of conversation when all he had been looking for was a quick fuck.

"You told me that a year ago and from what I've seen you've been lying to me this whole time. Have you even filed the papers? You know that neither of you love each other so what's the point of keeping this whole charade going?" I say, following after him and standing my ground, not letting him drop this.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to center himself so he won't blow up on me like he has in the past. "These things take time Angel, plus going through a divorce would make my company take a big hit and might ruin some of the relationships I've built" he tries to explain but I'm not having it.

"If your company is all you care about then maybe all of this was a mistake" I say, turning around to walk into my bedroom with him following lazily behind me.

"You know I care about you too Angel" he says, leaning in the doorway while I've decided to plot down on the bed, running my fingers through my hair and trying to figure out if any of this was a good idea.

From the looks of it to any outsider this whole relationship was bound to go up in flames sooner or later. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. Was I really that naïve to think that somehow things would change if we were actually together? Did I really think that he was capable of loving me too?

"No I don't know that. I know that you love my body and that you love having sex with me and the idea of being with me and stealing me away from your son but I don't even know if you actually love me. Y/n. Not Angel, not the mother of your children, not the daughter in law that you took advantage of, just me" I spout off everything that's been on my mind and I can see that he starts to more or less assess our relationship and I really hope I'm going to get the answer I'm hoping for.

"You knew who I was when you first met me. You knew who I was when you married my son and you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into when you left him to be with me. I'm not this loving and kind husband that you want me to be and deep down you know that too. Do I care about you? Yes, I do. Do I love you? I don't know. I don't know if I do and I don't know if I ever will and if that's not good enough for you then be my guest, say the word and we can end this right now" he says and every condescending word that falls from his lips is like a knife through my heart.

I choke back a sob as my eyes glass over leaving him rolling his eyes, clearly not having the patience to deal with this today.

"Seems like you've got some stuff to think about and from the looks of it I've got some business to attend to" he says, hinting at the headache it's going to be for him to go through with this divorce.

He strides over to the bed where I'm sat with my head down, trying and failing to hold back my tears and picks up my chin. "Just remember who you're dealing with Angel okay? It will make all of ours lives so much easier if you stop thinking that you can change me" he says, caressing my face again, driving the knife deeper.

"I am who I am and if you can't accept that then I think we have some hard decisions we'll need to make here" he says a wipes away a few of my tears before tapping underneath my chin twice and walking away.

"Where are you going?" I ask, getting up and following him out, my vision going glossy. "It seems you're not in the mood that I thought you might be in so I think it's best if I go. Give my love to the children" he says over his shoulder and walks out, leaving me speechless and beyond heart broken, mourning the life I had with his son all over again and missing the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return.

"What have I done?" I whimper, sinking to the floor and sobbing, wishing that I could take it all back. That I could start over and never get mixed up with this family no matter how in love I was with his son. I never knew that a love that was once so pure would be traded for one that is so devastatingly one sided, wrecking my life beyond compare and stealing what little pieces of me I had left.

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mourninglamby · 6 months

Note

i would pay insane money to hear about your thoughts on ctommy girlism because it’s actually such an important part of his character analysis to me

I’ve been wanting to make a patreon for stuff like this + art I don’t wanna post, so I’ve decided to go this route with the essay I will likely end up with based on this thesis. But I’ll use this post to summarize some thoughts im VERY confident about (and could be a sneak peek into what else the paper will entail)

C!tommy is fem-coded based off of fandom interpretation and reception, textual evidence, and meta analysis (will get more into meta in the big doc).

To start, a lot of this coding has to do with how he is victimized and why, which mainly concerns him craving approval from these older men (c!wilbur, c!dream, and even c!techno,) that he views as role models. Power imbalances are something that can also affect boys, yes, but this is where the coding comes in to set them apart. PLEASE REMEMBER Coding is used to identify traits that align with minority experiences, both good and bad. That does not mean c!tommy is LITERALLY a girl. It is a tool utilized in rhetorical analysis.

In this case, the constant subjugation of c!tommy by the men he yearns to trust, and subsequent self blame and denial when they hurt him fit into an experience closely associated with misogyny, and to go even further into the meta, a misogynistic view of feminine victimhood. The way c!tommy’s trauma interrupts his psychological and emotional development is received by thousands of fans who still deny his abuse even happened as “annoying”, “mean”, and “just as bad” as his perpetrator(s). This is observed from the existence of c!dream apologists and sympathizers, and to a more complicated extent, c!wilbur apologists. But I digress.

C!tommy is coded as feminine because in the majority of media centering victims of this kind of abuse, the character is a woman, and a woman can and will always be blamed for what happened to her. In the case of DSMP, this blame comes from the man who is protected by the spoils of his privilege as an oppressor, status in his community, and the many other people (predominantly young women) he has managed to manipulate to be in opposition to his victim. Fiction affecting real life and all…. Which is why I think this evidence of coding is so important.

To add another disclaimer for the bad faith warriors, being a victim does NOT make a character femme coded, however, the way he is treated in canon and the way the fanbase reacts to how he grapples with the lasting trauma is certainly rooted in misogynistic talking points.

Looking forward to writing more ^__^ thank u for being so interested anony. I’ve welcomed some friends who I trust very much to help me write it and I’m very excited.

addendum: there is no right or wrong way to interpret ctommy or dsmp or the response to how he was depicted... i only wish to start a conversation and get my thoughts out. if u disagree that is ur prerogative and i respect it <3

#dsmp #dsmp crit #c!tommy #setting to nobody can reblog for now #because I’m sure I’ll edit it later #this is also going to be used to support my claim that dsmp is post gender

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 24 days

Text

reading updates: august 2024

the good news is that I did a lot of reading this month, the bad news is that honestly? I think that my birthday month has had the biggest percentage of literary letdowns, duds, and outright bullshit than any other month of this year so far.

but at least there's plenty to talk about, so let's get going!

Unlearning Shame: How We Can Reject Self-Blame Culture and Reclaim Our Power (Devon Price, 2024) - uh oh gamers, we're starting on a doozy! I've enjoyed both of Price's previous books very much, but with Unlearning Shame I couldn't help but feel like I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I wasn't getting what I had signed on for. the issue, I think, could be corrected by an adjustment to the title, which seems to be promising a very broad tackling of the concept of shame and is therefore making some pretty big promises. in reality, the book is much more narrowly focused than that, interested primarily in the shame that arises in the activism-minded when they feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of awful things in the world and their perceived inability to do anything about it. fairly early on Price introduces an apparently relatable anecdote about himself and a friend having mutual breakdowns in a grocery store because they were both so paralyzed by the conundrum of trying to buy the most ethical groceries possible, and I realized this book was maybe not really for me or my particular experiences with shame. I think this book will be really helpful for a lot of people for sure, would love to pass it on to a lot of my freshmen, but overall it did not live up to the expectations I brought to the party.

A Separate Peace (John Knowles, 1959) - so I wanted to reread this because someone on here sent me an ask about, I don't know, my favorite required high school reading or whatever, and I said it was A Separate Peace but then I realized it's been over a decade since I read the book and I had to go see if it still actually held up. and god, does it EVER. this is such a brutal and heartbreaking novel, beginning in the last carefree summer that best friends and roommates Gene and Finny will experience before their final year at their boys' private school and their seemingly inevitable draft into WW2. although Gene is seethingly jealous of Finny's seemingly effortless charisma, popularity, confidence, and athletic prowess, the two boys are also inseparable - until a tragic injury changes the course of Finny's life forever. this book is a mess of unspoken pain, from the looming end of innocence on a global scale to the intimate ache of loving your best friend so, so much and having no healthy way to express it because you're a repressed little rich boy in the 1940s.

Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea (Rita Chang-Eppig, 2023) - Chang-Eppig's debut novel follows the career of Chinese pirate Shek Yeung, also known as Zheng Yi Sao, immediately following the death of her husband, fearsome pirate Sheng Yi. you've probably seen a post or two about her floating around on this very hellsite, calling her a pirate queen and accompanied by this image:

Chang-Eppig isn't interested in portraying Shek Yeung as any kind of heroine or feminist icon; over and over again it's acknowledged that she's simply a woman who has survived massive hardships and will do whatever she needs to do to survive. manipulation? spying? extortion? torture? murder? you name it, she's done it, and she does not feel remorse. while the novel wasn't a knockout for me either in terms of plot or prose, it's nice to see an entry into the trend of "retelling" stories from history and mythology centered on women that isn't determined to justify every step a maligned woman ever made. Shek Yeung is what she is, and her story makes for a gritty, bloody adventure.

Victim (Andrew Boryga, 2024) - this book is pure sleazeball fun; if you've ever wondered what I consider a romp, this is it. Victim follows our manipulative king Javi Perez as he builds a writing career for himself by turning in one essay after another about racial discrimination that he never really experienced, inventing stories of hardship caused by racism and poverty from his college application essay to his school newspaper to the story that finally brings the whole lie crashing down when he stretches the truth too far. the novel is written like Javi's apology in the wake of getting #canceled, and while I do sometimes feel that this premise makes some of the writing seem a bit implausible (why would you admit that!!!) it's a fun setup for a scandal that would have been a bloodbath on the twitter of old. come get your mess!!!

Bad Girls (Camila Sosa Villada, trans. Kit Maude, 2022) - this is my first time reading Sosa Villada's work but OH BOY, do I need to seek out more. this is a skinty little novel following a dramatized account of the travesti (or transgender) women who live and sell sex in Córdoba, Argentina. the women build an unsteady but beautiful and magic-infused family under the protection of the ancient Auntie Encarna. the protagonist (who is named Camila Sosa Villada, no relation I'm sure) watches as her unconventional family grows, changes, and frays over time, struggling to find ways to stay afloat in a world that see them as disposable. Sosa Villada's turns of phrase are brilliant and searing, and she weaves fantastical elements so nimbly into her narrative that it's utterly believable to see women becoming animals and courting headless men in the streets of a modern city. strongly recommend for fans of Kai Cheng Thom's Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars.

Talkin' Up to the White Woman: Indigenous Women and Feminism (Aileen Morteon-Robinson, 2000) - this book serves as a scathing literature review indicting Australia's white women anthropologists and feminist scholars for the ways in which they've dehumanized and discredited Aboriginal women, stripping them of the right to be authorities of their own experiences and barring them from a white-centered feminist movement. Moreton-Robinson's account is excellent, contrasting the wok of white women academics with the accounts of Aboriginal women to reveal exactly how massive the disparities in understanding are. as a USAmerican previously aware of Australia's colonial history but unfamiliar with the specifics, it was jarring to discover exactly how similar the mechanism of colonial violence are between my country and Australia, with countless genocidal parallels to be drawn. one particular highlight of the book comes via my purchase of a 20th anniversary edition, which includes a new post-script by Moreton-Robinson in which she dissects and responds to various criticisms of the book at its time of release, taking several critics to task for the belittling tone they used to describe her work and the tools white feminists use to absolve themselves of blame in the face of critique from women of color. fascinating and thorough articulation of Moreton-Robinson's point, and deservedly blistering. I love when academics call each other out by name.

The End of Love: Racism, Sexism, and the Death of Romance (Sabrina Strings, 2024) - so the thing about this book is that there are really good PARTS. Strings is still an excellent historical writer, and I found a lot to appreciate in, for instance, the segments on the history of Black American pimp culture and the analysis of Playboy and Helen Gurley Brown's Sex and the Single Girl. the more personal segments, where Strings contorts herself to fit her own failed relationships into the narrative she's building, are decidedly less consistent in their quality, with some feeling like they would have been better off staying between Strings and her therapist. there's a long and convoluted digression about Sex and the City, and a strange anecdote towards the end in which String recounts a phone call with a friend's college-aged son who, String believes, was masturbating during the call. a yucky experience, to be certain, but I'm not sure it justifies Strings filing a police report against the youth and his mother, who she accuses of having groomed her on the son's behalf. she also casually drops in the same chapter that she considers herself pansexual because she's attracted to trans men in addition to cis men? idk man!!! this book was so uneven that I found myself genuinely questioning whether Strings' first book, Fearing the Black Body, is actually as excellent as I remember it being. I'm pretty sure it is, but god it sucks to get shaken so hard that you have to wonder!

The Diary of a Teenage Girl: An Account in Words and Pictures (Phoebe Gloeckner, 2002) - another book that I had to read for class, years ago! I read Diary of a Teenage Girl in one of my gender and women's studies classes in my undergrad, for a class with a title along the lines of Girlhood Stories in Fiction and Film. Gloeckner's novel (though heavily informed by her own life, she insists that it's a work of fiction) sees its young protagonist, Minnie, navigating a great deal of sex, alcohol, drugs in 1970s San Francisco. I started thinking about the book because I was listening to a trio of episodes of You're Wrong About in which Carmen Maria Machado guests to talk about the pervasive sham that is Go Ask Alice (great series, check it out) and I started thinking about Diary, which is so much less preachy and didactic and is, you know, actually drawn from a real teenage girl's diary, unlike Go Ask Alice, and lacking Alice's preachy didacticism. as a diary based on a real diary this book is largely lacking in any particular plot (the most consistent through line is Minnie's ongoing and tumultuous sexual relationship with her mother's 35 year old boyfriend), but if that's not a turn off then you'll find yourself rooting for Minnie to find her way all the way to the uncertain but ultimately optimistic conclusion.

One and Done (Frederick Smith, 2024) - okay, so. this is a romance novel that I picked up because I saw a review talking about how it's an incredibly realistic depiction of working at a university. now that's obviously an insane thing to look for in a romance novel, but I like romances, ESPECIALLY gay romances, and I work at a university, so I figured sure, I'll bite. spoiler alert: it's not great. I posted some examples of the prose here, and even if the two protagonists talked like actual human beings it wouldn't make up for the stale-ass plot or devastating lack of chemistry they have going for them. more like One and Glad to Be Done With This Book That Isn't Very Good, am I right, ladies?

Seduced (Virginia Henley, 1994) - guys, I'm gonna be so fucking real with you. this is the most batshit novel I've ever read, period, let alone the most batshit romance novel. this book was the winner of a poll I ran on patreon last month in which my wicked patreonites got to nominate romance novels of their choosing for my next reading project and voted amongst themselves to crown a winner, and against all odds and my own light attempts to sway the voters, Seduced won it all. this book has everything: a historical setting, a bold young lady disguising herself as her own brother, wildly unchecked orientalism, a murderous cousin, high society scandal, and some of the most torturous sex scenes I've ever encountered in my life. truly this write-up cannot do justice to what I have experienced; I've already promised by patreonites that I'll have to do a little youtube live in order to fully express the extent of my dissatisfaction.

and that was the month of August, babey!!!

#bookblr

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shadesslut · 1 year

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Idk if I’m doing this right but can u do a Chad Meeks Martin smut where she’s dating either Ethan or wes but her and chad have a secret enemies with benefits and she goes underwear shopping and Chad is there and there’s loads of flirting and stuff

I LOVED THIS REQUEST

little secret

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, cheating, slight voyeurism)

Masterlist

✮

Chad and Y/N’s relationship was…interesting to say the least. He had met her through Ethan, his roommate, and the moment he connected eyes with her all he wanted to do was rip off her clothes. His wish came true that night they met, and once he got a taste of her, he couldn’t get enough. There was one slight problem, she was dating Ethan. Neither of them were necessarily proud of what their little secret was, and it caused tension between the two around the others. To the others, they looked at their relationship full of hate. Oh how they were wrong.

Chad was having a bad day. It was Saturday, a guy like Chad was supposed to be having a good day full of drinking and hanging out with his friends. But, here he sat, alone in his kitchen. Ethan had left a few hours ago, with her, to go shopping. They invited Chad, well, Ethan invited Chad, but Chad didn’t want to be a third wheel once again. He also didn’t wanna have to stare at Y/N’s ass be groped by Ethan all day.

He groaned, once checking his phone again for any new messages. He pressed on Snapchat, instantly going to his private album. He scrolled through the photos of Y/N, her bare body starting to arouse Chad. He reached into his sweatpants, starting to stroke himself. He softly whined, and his thumb accidently swiped on the screen, pulling up the map. He immediately stopped stroking as he saw Ethan and Y/N’s bitmoji pop up right next to each other.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, taking his hand out of his pants.

He was starting to get heated, and he huffed as he shot Ethan a text.

Chad

Changed my mind omw

2:36 pm

–

Ethan waved at Chad from a little table in the food court. Chad nodded as he walked over, dapping Ethan up.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.” Ethan said smiling, offering Chad some of his fries. Chad only smiled, taking a fry.

“Where’s Y/N?” Chad asked.

“She’s um-looking for underwear,” Ethan quickly said, coughing.

Chad laughed, but his cheeks grew warm. “Didn't wanna help her?” He asked teasingly. Ethan shook his head rapidly. Chad knew that the two had never slept together, so Ethan’s shyness was expected.

Ethan’s phone buzzed, and he flipped his phone over, face going pale as he read the message. “Shit,” He cursed, immediately standing to grab his stuff.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I forgot I work a shift at three, shit. Can you-“ Ethan stammered, shortly being interrupted by Chad.

“I’ll drive Y/N home.” Chad assured him.

Ethan let out a relief of sigh, and quickly thanked Chad before leaving. Chad was suddenly thanking himself for coming here.

He looked around awkwardly for Y/N in the lingerie store. It was mostly full of women, some dragging their poor boyfriends along behind them. Chad’s eyes stopped on a mannequin, which was clad in a black lace set. The bra had a little pink rose on the center gore, and it had two black bows on the straps. The lace was see through, and Chad imagined Y/N wearing it, being able to see her nipples.

His eyes wandered down to the panties, which also had a pink rose on it. The panties were connected to a garter, which connected to thigh highs. Chad drooled at the set, only picturing Y/N wearing it.

“Can I help you, sir?” He heard a woman ask. He immediately spun around to the voice, embarrassed. He sighed as he saw Y/N.

“Yes actually, I was thinking about getting this for a special lady.” He joked, slightly smirking.

She snorted. “As if you have a special lady.”

Chad smiled seductively, checking their surroundings to make sure no one was in the same area as them, before grabbing at her hips. “I think I do,” he whispered, his head tilting.

Her eyes widened. “Chad, Ethan-“

“He left. Had a shift.” He interrupted. She let out a sigh of relief, and she pushed him away. Chad peeked at her shopping basket, looking at the sets of lingerie she threw in. “Can I see you wear them?”

“No, I told you yesterday.” She said sternly.

Chad remembered. The night before Y/N had called him, and she told him that their little ‘friends with benefits’ was over.

“I know you told me yesterday, but you see, I didn’t agree to it.” Chad sarcastically said.

She rolled her eyes at him, walking to the next section. Chad quickly grabbed the black set before following her.

“It’s not up to you, I can’t keep doing this to Ethan.” She told him, looking through pairs of thongs.

“Let me change your mind.”

“No.” She spat, grabbing the set out of his hands. She walked into the fitting room. Chad wanted to follow her in but didn’t want to seem like a creep, so he waited.

He scrolled aimlessly on his phone, watching a girl leave the fitting room. He heard shuffling, and a loud sigh. “Chad?” Y/N shouted from her room.

“Hm?”

“Can you,” another sigh. “Can you help me?”

He chuckled before standing up and knocking on her door. She opened it a tad, letting him in. “Alright babe, I’m here to assist-“

Chad’s mouth, figuratively speaking, was on the ground. She was wearing the set he had admired previously, but the garter was clipped on. His eyes immediately went to her breasts, and he practically drooled at the sight.

“Can you help me with the garter?” She asked, huffing as she tried to clip it on.

He nodded quickly, his hands instantly reaching to her thighs. He stuck his tongue out as he focused on clipping it on, but failed to do so. She let out a groan and slumped in the chair. Her hips slid towards his face, and her legs spread open. Chad’s eyes flicked up in between, and he felt himself get hard again.

“So, I know you said things were over, but, your vagina is quite literally in my face.” Chad said, looking up at her. She let out a slight laugh.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

Oh.

Now that set off Chad.

His eyes turned dark, and he grabbed at her waist, causing her to yelp. He shushed her by smashing his lips on hers, and he practically ripped the panties off. She gasped at the cold air, and Chad grinded his hips into hers.

He picked her up in his arms, holding her ass with his hands.

“Chad-We can’t, We can’t do this here. Someone will hear,” she whispered, panting.

He only kissed her neck sloppily, and slowly pulled down his sweats and boxers. “Then I guess you’re gonna have to keep your mouth shut.”

Chad shoved his dick inside of her, instantly moaning at her warm feeling. He rocked his hips up into hers, and he squeezed her ass. Her hand flew to cover over her mouth, muffling her moans.

He thrusted his hips into her at a quick pace, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“Fuck you always hug me so tight,” he whimpered.

She only moaned in response, wrapping her legs around his wait. His chest bounced as he moved, and he started to play with her tits. At this point, they were shameless, moaning and whining each other’s name, having no care in the world to who heard them.

“Chad,” she said, breathlessly.

He looked at her, still sliding his dick in and out of her smoothly.

“I’m gonna cum,”

Chad only chucked dryly, his ego boosted. “Already baby? What, poor thing isn’t used to this kind of treatment from her sweet boyfriend?” Chad mocked.

“Don’t talk about him while you’re- Ah! Fuck, while you’re inside me,” she protested.

“I bet he wishes he could fuck you like this. Hell, fuck you at all!” She started clenching around him even harder. “I bet he thinks about you when he touches himself, huh?” He whispered, teasingly.

Her eyes started to water at the spot the tip of his dick hit perfectly, repeatedly.

“I bet you think about my cock when you two make out. Do you baby? Do you think of your little secret’s cock?”

She nodded rapidly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he continued to pound into her.

“Are you gonna let me cum inside you baby? Like the good girl you are?” He whispered, his mouth pressed up to her ear. Again, she nodded desperately.

He grunted, rolling his hips into her a few more times before cumming inside of her, her finishing along with him. Chad looked down in between them as sweat dripped down his forehead. He half-smirked at the sight of his white liquid spilling onto the pair of panties. It was alright though, he had planned to buy them for her anyways.

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks imagine #chad meeks smut #mason gooding #jack champion

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runa-falls · 1 year

Text

step on me

pairing: mean!miguel o'hara x naive!reader

summary: you have a peculiar 'relationship' with miguel -- basically, you'll take what you can get.

warning: explicit 18+, smut, unprotected sex, man-handling, no after-care, power imbalance, toxic relationship, very one-sided, fwb, little bit of angst, kinda sad rly.

w/c: 2.4k

a/n: ik i have two series i should be writing for but-- actually i have no excuse. i've been listening to step on me for hours now so that's why this is this...maybe one more part after this ? idk yet --

masterlist

---

You have an interesting relationship with Miguel, if you can call it that. You’ve been fucking for weeks now, shoving each other against closet walls, over desks, or atop bathroom counters with no regard for anyone else around.

But you’re not friends. You’re barely even friendly colleagues.

It happened so fast the first time.

There wasn’t any growing tension that led to the snap of a rubber band. He just kissed you out of the blue. Grabbed you, quite eagerly by the neck, completely cutting off what you were saying, then pulled you in, lips pressing hot against yours.

You had trouble wrapping your mind around what was happening so you went still, arms hanging timidly at your sides, eyes wide with surprise.

His hand grasped your jaw, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

The shock in your body dissipated slowly as he started to lick into your mouth. Your eyes closed at the feel of his soft tongue against yours. You leaned into him, body melting at his touch.

It was the last thing you were expecting from him at the end of your debriefing.

It happened after the rest of the crew left. They were dismissed by Miguel and anxious to get home or to pick up a bite to eat, but you stayed behind, wanting to pitch another one of your ideas to him.

Like always.

It started off with the usual routine:

He barely looks at you when he flatly asks why you were still there. He’s a very impatient man, always in a hurry to go from point A to point B.

You don’t mind his question because he already knows the answer.

You jumped right into blabbing about the newest technological upgrades that you think could be beneficial for the group while he full-heartedly ignored you, gloved fingers swiping around on his holographic monitor.

The occasional Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. Ok. Was all you were getting from him. But you continue, hoping to spark his interest, if only for a second.

You’re so lost in your own explanations that you don’t notice he’s actually looking at you now. And walking closer. Much closer than he has ever been before.

Now that you’re thinking back on it, he was pretty tense that day. Makes sense why the bruises on your waist are still in the late stage of healing, despite your spider-woman-enhanced abilities.

—

You have always looked up to Miguel as a mentor as much as your boss. He has a lot of experience as a Spider, far more than your mere year-and-a-half as Spider-Girl (you prefer Spider-Woman, but your New York refused to budge on the name).

You’ve been trying for months to get his attention if only for him to look over your work as an engineer because, as much power as he has in Spider-Society, he’s also quite brilliant in his own right.

So when he kissed you, you finally felt seen by him. Because now, you’re not just another Spider on the wall. He wants you. Now you have a chance to be a bigger part of Spider-Society.

Well, you soon found out that him wanting you, involved very little conversation.

None — if it were his choice.

“So what do you think?” You wait eagerly for his feedback, but he doesn’t respond, his lips just continue to brush against your throat, away from the bruise he just sucked into your skin. “...Miguel?”

“Hm?” The sharp edge of his fang runs over your collarbone. You shiver at the feeling.

“The stabilizers.” He bites down, gently enough not to break skin.

“What about them…?”

“I–” A hand makes its way under your shorts, cupping your center as he continues to litter your skin with more bites. “N-nevermind. We can talk about it later.”

He barely nods, head resting on your shoulder, “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

The thing is, there never was a later with him. If you weren’t behind closed doors, it’s like nothing’s changed.

These days, he is always busy after debriefs. Except when he wants you.

But by then, your mouth is already webbed closed with his fiery red silk, so you can’t even bring it up if you wanted to.

—

“Alright, good work everyone.” The Spiders around you start to shuffle out of their chairs as Miguel closes up, “Team 470B will be on call for the next one, so go home and get some rest.” Casual chatter starts to bloom around you and all professionalism goes out the door as the meeting is adjourned.

You push back on your rolling chair and stand up, satisfied by the day of work. You stretch, body stiff from sitting for so long, and nearly lose your footing from how far you were reaching. You are planning to go straight home and take a long bath before bed, knowing by now that Miguel wouldn’t have time to see you before he’s off to his next thing.

Just as you’re about to walk out with the rest, you hear him call out, “Not you, Spider-Girl.” You’re the only one that looks back (as you’re the only one with that terribly degrading name), but you point at yourself anyway. He looks at you with an unamused look, as if to say “Who the fuck else?”

You get the memo and follow him.

You silently walk a few paces behind him as you travel through the ravine that’s Spider-HQ. You hear a few, “What’s up, Spider-Girl?” and “Good Evening, O’Hara”s, as you pass the halls full of familiar (and unfamiliar) Spiders. You wave politely, sending smiles to your co-workers and friends, but Miguel barely acknowledges them.

Once you get to his office, you’re pushed against the wall. Claws dig into your wrists as they’re held above you. It’s a bit higher than you can reach so you’re forced to stand on your tip-toes to stay comfortable. The positioning forces your back to arch slightly and your chest brushes against his.

Your face heats in embarrassment as you lose your footing for a second, almost falling against him. Looking up, you watch as his gaze darkens rapidly with syrupy desire. He’s clearly enjoying the stumbling doe under him.

As he leans down to capture your lips, his hands lower with yours, giving you a bit of reprieve to stand back on your heels. You sigh against his lips as your strained muscles have a chance to relax.

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “Gotta make this quick, I’m needed in 2997 in an hour.”

It’s always quick. Over before you’re ready. Before you can really sink into the feeling of his touch, of his lips against yours, of the hand-shaped bruises getting pressed into your outer thighs.

“Ok.”

His hands drift from yours and trace over your suited figure before wrapping around your waist. You’re hoisted up easily by his strong arms and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips.

He brings you over to a couch at the corner of the room, one that’s there for decoration rather than comfort.

You’re gently laid on your back, hair spread out under you, watching as Miguel’s eyes pour over your rapidly rising chest and puffy lips. He’s straddling your legs, body hunched over you.

His fingers lightly brush over your chest before pinching at the stretchy fabric of your suit, “Let’s get this off.”

You press the subtle release button that sits under the spider logo of your suit and it instantly pools around you. His hands quickly make work to take it off, pulling it down and off of you with one swift tug. You sigh at the sensation of your skin meeting the cool air.

You hear him discard the suit to the side, then he’s back on you.

He palms over your tits, flicking your sensitive nipples with his thumb leisurely, taking time to pull gasps and moans from your lips. You throw your head back when he pinches you, moaning loudly at the pleasurable pain. He takes one bud into his mouth, sucking and laving at your skin until your body starts to physically tremble from the stimulation. Then his touch is gone.

You watch as he sits up and starts to remove his own suit from the neck to his waist, revealing his heavily muscled torso, warm skin speckled with the occasional mole. He lets you feel him under your small palm, muscles rippling as you drag your fingers downward. You’re tunnel vision as you watch them brush over the dark hair of his happy trail and pull the bottom half of his suit down.

He’s already hard for you, precum dribbling slowly from the blush pink tip. Your hand wraps around his silken cock and he pulses at your touch, eagerly anticipating your next move. You meet his half-lidded gaze, watching his soft lips part as you squeeze around him experimentally.

“I need to be inside of you.” He guides your hand off of him and lets it rest on his chest as he bends over you once again. Calloused fingers trail down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and over your dripping heat. Your breath stutters when he slides his middle finger against your slippery folds and pushes in easily, making sure you’re ready enough to take him.

You always are.

His breathing labors as he works another finger into you, slick sounds growing louder as he increases the speed. You clench around his fingers unintentionally at the thought of your body affecting him like that, and it makes him groan.

Your legs abruptly start to close around his arm as he pushes in deeper, angling his fingers at just the right positioning to nudge against your g-spot. He pushes them apart with his other hand, holding you down against the couch as you quickly reach the edge. You cry out as electricity fizzes through your nerves and leaves you completely boneless. White is all you see as heat travels through your body and out.

Your heart beats harshly when you finally come down and your legs still twitch from the residual stimulation that’s slowly evaporating off your body. When you open your eyes, you see Miguel staring back at you.

“You good?”

“Mhm…”

He draws his hands away from you, “Okay,” He’s practically cooing at you. “Open up for me, sweetheart.” You lazily spread your legs for him, allowing him to slot himself in between them.

He slides himself against your heat, coating himself in your sweet slick, and grinds against you for a minute, letting his cock nudge ever so slightly against your sensitive clit just to see you squirm.

“Miguel, please.” Your voice is hoarse as you beg.

“I got you, honey.” Your hands hold onto his biceps when he starts to push into you and you squeeze at his arms as you get used to the feeling of your body slowly stretching around him, inch by inch. You both moan when he bottoms out and have to stop to get used to the feeling.

Then he starts moving. Hard.

His arms hold him up next to your head as he fucks you into the couch, hips ramming against yours without care. Any semblance of softness he has shown you before is gone.

The feeling of being filled up so harshly is overwhelming and all you can do is hold on to him, nails digging into his skin, grasping in desperation.

Miguel takes one of his arms and uses it to prop his leg higher to give him more space. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to push in deeper. As deep as he can. There it is again, that euphoric spot inside of you. Pressure pools in your stomach, igniting a feeling of limitless pleasure. Your eyebrows furrow as your body begins to tense again, already building up to another orgasm.

He can feel your walls start to flutter around him, clenching and sucking him in closer. He has to hold himself back from cumming right there as you grow impossibly tighter. “Cum for me again, baby.” His strained words pull you closer to the edge and your legs begin to shake.

You’re practically writhing under him as white-hot pleasure finally shoots through your system for the second time. Warmth radiates from your center and your entire body is assaulted with intense bliss, all your senses numbed.

“Fuck –” He can’t help but swear as you cum around him, pushing him infinitely closer to his climax. He’s still rutting into you, pushing your body into the couch cushions with every thrust, but his pace is becoming inconsistent as he holds himself back from finishing inside of you.

He pulls out at the last moment, letting out a choked groan as he spurts over your stomach, hand fisting his cock as he completely empties himself.

He takes a few deep breaths above you to calm down before leaning back on his knees and reaching behind him. You didn’t notice that there was already a towel hanging on one of the couch’s arms until he grabs it and gently wipes himself off.

You’re still recovering, breathlessly laying on your back in exhaustion, barely able to move from all the energy you exerted. Your body aches wonderfully when you shift to the side, and you’re sure you’ll feel it more tomorrow.

“Clean yourself up, sweetheart.” He passes you the towel, already getting up off the couch. The small hand-towel plops on your stomach covering the white ropes he left on your skin. “I’m gonna need the office back as soon as I finish my mission, so you’ll have a few hours.” Your body curls into itself, a bit cold as his body heat leaves you. You look up and he’s already back in his suit, brushing his hair back into place. “I’ll, uh, see you later, sometime?”

You nod, sending him a small smile. “Ok.”

With that, he leaves the room.

He’s always in a hurry, but you suppose that’s just how things are when you’re trying to single-handedly hold the multiverse together.

You appreciate the little time you get with him, knowing how busy he is and all, but sometimes you wish you could have him for a little bit longer, if just to talk to him.

For now, though, you’ll take what you can get.

#mean!miguel #spider man 2099 #atsv fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader

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