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#i wanted to see miled getting destroyed
kotofeden · 6 months
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They’re having fun :>
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red-flagging · 2 months
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offering "last of the late breakers" as a title to anyone writing an f1 surfing au in the near future, free of charge to a good home
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Mmmmmm thinking about Nine the fox walking around with his two bodyguards (Alpha Grim Sonic and Chaos Sonic) again
The fox and his most devoted halberds who are also possessive bitches
No but like but like I need you to understand
Chaos Sonic who was originally revived to take Sonic's place, to fill the hole in a frienship Nine came to believe as fake, and yet clearly held onto so dearly. Chaos Sonic, who was supposed to be the same as before, except made to be Nine's devoted best friend who would never betray him.
Alpha Grim Sonic who Nine reportedly modeled after the hedgehog he (foolishly) thought of as a friend. A robot copy of Sonic who would not talk back, who would not think, who was only made to serve and protect Nine.
Chaos Sonic, whose time spent with Nine turned programmed allegiance and care into some form of love (obsession and possessiveness)
Alpha Grim Sonic, who was not supposed to think and feel. And yet, with time spent serving Nine and opposing Shadow, he begins to feel and to think (a budding soul forming within his metal frame and existing beyond his programming). A robot created to protect and serve, whose feelings for his creator and master begin to grow over time.
When did his internal drive shift from playing the role of Nine's best friend? When did he begin to resent Sonic for what he did to Nine? When did he begin to want to see Nine happy and safe and accomplished (rather than just simply alive and able to complete his goals)? When did he begin to crave Nine's attention and to make him stop thinking about Sonic?
Wasn't he programmed to be no more than an unfeeling robot, a set of algorithms designed to allow him to fight, protect, serve, and strategize only as needed? Why does he want to hurt Shadow so much (is it really just out of the drive to protect Nine, or is it to make the hedgehog pay?)? He'd follow Nine's orders to the ends of the earth, but why does he worry about Nine when they’re separated? Why has he started to covet Nine's smiles and bouts of happiness? Why does he feel annoyance when Nine converses with Chaos Sonic like he's also not there? Why is he starting to understand why Chaos Sonic resents Sonic, beyond the fact that Chaos Sonic has always fancied replacing him? Alpha Grim Sonic has never wanted to replace the real thing, never understood why Chaos Sonic would, but he's starting to understand jealousy (in the way one begins to feel things they cannot put words to).
Chaos Sonic would tell you it's because he and Nine are best friends. Alpha Grim Sonic would tell you that it's because Nine is his master. Yet, deep down, the two have begun to want to be useful and important to Nine. They want to protect him and see his goals through past any loyalty programming. It does not matter whether such an outcome was inevitable or not (based upon their programming or the holes Nine made them fill in his life), only that they believe that they'd choose this even if Nine tried to let them go.
And Nine... Nine who creates distance between himself and the two robots almost instinctively, as if he's trying not to grow attached (ironic, given the roles he placed the two in, the holes in his life he made them fill after he believed that Sonic had backstabbed him). And yet, just as much as he insists that Alpha Grim Sonic is cold and unfeeling and programmed to serve or that Chaos Sonic is just like that (given the personality programmed into him and his similarities to Sonic) and was programmed to follow orders, he finds himself beginning to value the two as more. He should see them as tools, he tries to think of them as tools. And, yet, over time, the two become irreplaceable agents of his will. He can’t allow himself to believe they really care about them, but he wants them to know that he likes having them around, that no other robot can fill the roles he programmed them for, and no real mobian could be as effective as them (even if it's embarrassing to admit). They become...a comforting presence, especially when he's stuck in the Grim post canon, practically alone, closed off from being able to see Sonic again
Do you get me do you get me?
#sonic prime#sonic the hedgehog#miles nine prower#nine sonic prime#nine the fox#chaos sonic#alpha grim sonic#chanine#nine x alpha Grim sonic#alpha grim sonic x nine#nine x grim sonic#grim sonic x nine#chaos sonic x nine#nine x chaos sonic#crystalbondshipping#crystalbond#For now that's my on the spot Alpha Grim Sonic/Nine ship name#i just be ramblin#Gaaaaah I'm just lowkey obsessed with these relationships that only exist in my head#What's more delicious is that none of these three really know much about love (and Nine and Chaos Sonic barely have a leg up in having some#sort of understanding of best friendship)#So all three of them just have complicated feelings regarding each other. All the robots know is that they want Nine to be happy and healthy#and safe‚ all Nine knows is that he doesn’t want to see them destroyed#‚ and while Nine is coming to terms with wanting those two at his side always‚ the other two know they just want to be beside Nine as long#as they live#And by god the ways Alpha Grim Sonic and Chaos Sonic mirror and foil each other gets me‚ even down to their design differences and the way#Chaos Sonic was intended to be like Sonic‚ while Alpha Grim was intended to be without personality and feeling#Or even just the way that Chaos Sonic and Alpha Grim resent and have a thing for fighting Sonic and Shadow respectively#But just as much as there's fun in Nine embracing his devoted robots (power thruple)‚ there's inherent tragedy in those two being unable to#escape or surpass Nine's memory and feeling for Sonic the Hedgehog
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hannieehaee · 6 months
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TOO MUCH
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18+ / mdi
summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.
content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 7.9k
a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread
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support me through a one-time tip! <3
Your back was killing you.
It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.
Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.
Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.
He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.
"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.
You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.
You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.
You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.
However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.
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"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.
"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"
If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.
"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"
"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."
"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.
He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"
This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.
"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."
"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.
"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.
"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.
You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.
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You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.
You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.
"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.
Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.
You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.
"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.
"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.
"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').
To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.
"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.
"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."
"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"
"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.
"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"
To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.
~
Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.
"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"
"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..
The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.
The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.
His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.
You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.
The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.
You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.
"So, what did you think?"
"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."
"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.
You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.
Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.
"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.
He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.
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A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.
You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.
You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.
"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.
"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."
"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.
"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.
"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."
"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"
Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.
You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.
"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"
"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.
You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.
'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.
Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.
You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.
"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"
"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"
"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.
He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.
Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.
"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.
"Cheol ..." you whined.
"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."
You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.
"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.
He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.
"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."
The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.
Then he threw you yet another curveball.
He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."
You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.
He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.
"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"
He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.
He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.
"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"
You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.
You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.
Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.
"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.
"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.
You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.
"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"
You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.
"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.
He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.
All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.
"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.
"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.
You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.
He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.
He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.
He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.
"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.
"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.
Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.
Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.
He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"
"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.
With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.
"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.
"Cheollie!"
"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"
It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.
"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.
"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."
"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.
He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.
"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."
"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.
"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.
"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.
a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area 😭
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roseghoul26 · 1 month
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 
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You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 
Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 
Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 
The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 
You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 
You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.
It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 
It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 
He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 
How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 
You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.
You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 
You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.
You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 
Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 
You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 
Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 
Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 
The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 
Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.
The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 
The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 
The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.
However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 
Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 
If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 
Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 
Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 
You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.
The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.
Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 
With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 
The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 
So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”
You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.
“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”
Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 
Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 
“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 
You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.
“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”
He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.
“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”
He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”
It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 
The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.
Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.
Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 
“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 
You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”
One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 
You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”
Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.
“Can-”
“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.
Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 
You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 
“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 
His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”
“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 
“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 
But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.
“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.
“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 
“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.
“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 
“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 
You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.
If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 
You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 
As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 
When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 
He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”
You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 
“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 
You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 
Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 
“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 
It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 
But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.
“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 
He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 
He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 
You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 
“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.
His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 
He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 
You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”
Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 
Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 
As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 
Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.
You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”
This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.
With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 
“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.
It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.
Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 
When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 
You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.
Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 
“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.
You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 
Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”
Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 
He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.
They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 
He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 
Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 
So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 
“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 
You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”
His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 
Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.
With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 
You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.
 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 
You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.
He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 
You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.
With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.
When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 
He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 
“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 
It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.
A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 
He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.
Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.
He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 
“You,” you gasped out.
“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.
Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 
He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.
“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.
Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.
Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 
You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 
His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 
With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.
It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 
He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 
Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 
The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.
Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.
It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.
“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 
Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.
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bunny-lily · 2 months
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Satoru, who...
Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end
The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.
AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet
WC: 3k
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Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.
And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.
He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).
Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.
He has fallen for you bad.
Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.
One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.
Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.
Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.
Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 
It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).
Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.
Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 
He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.
Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.
When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.
Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.
Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 
He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.
Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.
Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 
He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.
Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.
He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.
Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.
Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.
Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.
Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.
Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.
Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 
But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.
Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.
Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 
You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 
A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.
Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 
Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 
On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.
He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.
Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 
Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.
Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.
Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.
Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.
Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.
—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-
Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading
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pix3lplays · 4 months
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While I can totally see the toxic side of a relationship with Aventurine, I'm so down bad and soft for him and in love with him that I want him endlessly happy so may I interest you in the healthy version of dating Aventurine...? 👀
I haven't seen anything of him past the conversation he has with Ratio in his hotel room but I HAVE had him spinning around in my head since his very first leaks so I have too many thoughts about him unfortunately.........
I feel like his main love language is physical touch. I can see him having all the love languages tbh but his main feels like physical touch. He just feels like such a physically affectionate person who'd wanna drape himself all over his partner or the other way around. But considering how shit his social life and life in general is, he most definitely hasn't had physical affection reciprocated like. Ever.
So a partner who initiates physical affection with him even prior to establishing a relationship would destroy him methinks. Thanking him for something and then you jump into his arms to hug him tightly... When's the last time he's been hugged? Especially in such an affectionate manner??? Never!!!!!! His brain would shut down, he wouldn't process that he should hug back and when he does it's too late, you've pulled back and he already misses the warmth.
A partner who holds his hand?? ESPECIALLY in public??? It's clear nobody likes him and his reputation precedes him and everybody is space racist to him, so a partner who's unafraid to show him off like he's the greatest prize they could have would also destroy him methinks. He'd definitely adore PDA, but again, single and sad lol. So if his partner is down for PDA, Aventurine is the happiest bc he gets to indulge in his partners affections 24/7 AND ALSO SHOW THEM OFF?? flex that even someone like him could be loved??? Absolutely!!! Your designated seat is always his lap and he always has an arm around your waist or your shoulders and he will always shamelessly kiss you anytime he wants and you return all of it back and make everyone within a 30k mile radius feel single as fuck.
I can imagine once he's entirely comfortable with his partner, he is SUCH a gentleman. Shoes untied? He's getting down on one knee to fix it for you, caressing your leg softly and planting a kiss near your knee before standing back up. No he doesn't care if he gets his precious white pants dirty. No he doesn't care if any camera caught that and there'll be an article with his name in bold next day. Tired?? Will carry you bridal style. Out shopping?? (and he'd definitely love taking you out on shopping sprees) will carry all your bags. Anything!!
He slowly finds himself turning into husband material even if he has not been an ideal husband type ever. He'll find himself wanting to cook a nice meal at home for the two of you, likes having you sitting on the counter looking all pretty while he works and giving him kisses as thanks every now and then, or likes surprising you with it when you come home.
Starts memorizing your orders at restaurants or cafes, will always automatically just go and order your favorites.
Begins to refer to most plans with 'we'. It just comes out naturally. "This is a difficult mission to manage, but we can find a way around it". We. Even if you're not involved in his work in the slightest. You two are intertwined entirely to him.
He never officially asks you to move in. All he knows is one night you slept over and then slowly it became a regular and his house is becoming filled with more and more of your items, starting with your toothbrush then your towels then some spare clothes and now you practically live there. And he's so happy at how natural and comfortable and not awkward it feels. Nothing forced.
Speaking of spending the night, the first time you two shared a bed was insane to him. Being held so tenderly, with so much love and care and warmth.. All things he's so unfamiliar with. He almost couldn't handle it. His favorite sleeping position is either burying his face in your back while spooning you or having his face buried in your chest. He likes your warmth, your heartbeat, your hands stroking his hair and the other wrapped around him, he doesn't care how much of a baby these positions make him look like. He's comfortable and he deserves it.
Showering together was something he wasn't keen about until one time it happened and you washed his hair and he almost cried. Gentle hands rubbing his scalp and stroking his hair and lathering the soap so calmly, he could have died right then and there. Then washing his body with equal amounts of care. He'd never been taken care of that way. He started wanting you there for every single shower, throwing excuses like "I can't reach my back I need you to wash me!" or "my hair felt softer when you did it I don't know how so you have to do it!"
His future is uncertain. But he finds himself looking at your ring finger and wondering what wedding ring cut would look the best on it. Sees you with kids and thinks it'd be nice to have that. But it's a step he's far too afraid to consider taking, with how dangerous his work is and how the rug could get pulled from under him at any second. He'd never want endanger you or a child. Those are things for an incredibly far future, but the thought of possibly dying and not ever having it saddens him.
As for his gambling, as predictable as it is... You're his lucky charm!!!!!! But also his self-control. You pull him out of it when he starts betting a little TOO much, and you switch his drink with water when he starts getting too drunk too. You manage him without suffocating or restricting him, he'd appreciate it.
If you ever visit him during work hours at the IPC, he'd be the happiest. Just an IPC secretary coming to tell him he has a visitor who claims to be his partner and he's almost flying out of his chair like "let them in let them in!!!". Poor anyone around, because you will not be spared from Aventurine's kisses. He doesn't care who's there. In fact, if Topaz or Dr. Ratio are there, it's even better. He'd like to silently rub it in. And If you made him lunch and had come to drop it off???? He may actually just ask to marry you,, being taken care of is something he loves. Something he could get used to.
His job requires things to get dirty often. He's told you the details but you still stay. He sometimes wonders if you'll eventually snap out of this daze and realize what you've gotten yourself into. See his true colors and hate him and leave him. He thinks the day he came back home covered in blood that wasn't his own would be the final straw. But it somehow wasn't. He came fully expecting you to scream, yell, get angry, get upset, break up with him and leave. But you didn't. You just gave him a sympathetic look before dragging him to the bathroom. You tended to any injury with love, took his clothes off with care. Put what can be washed in the washing machine and threw what couldn't be to the side. Got him in the shower and helped clean him up. Dried his hair afterwards and got him in bed. Told him he should rest, he must be tired. Why do you still love him?? He's no good. He took someone's life today and you're worried about whether or not he's tired??? He won't ever understand what you see in him. But he's so grateful, he'd want to keep repaying you for your love.
And his birthdays.... If you throw him a surprise party, he'll cry. For sure. Does this guy look like anybody remembers or celebrates his birthday? He probably spends them getting wasted in some bar after blowing a couple of millions on a gambling table. A cake, decorations, gifts... You'd make that day special. Like a birthday should be.
He'd feel more and more like a human with you. Not like an object that can be used and discarded when no longer useful. A person. With feelings.
He'd get jealous. Cry in your arms. Say "tell me I'm yours". Begging for reassurance.
"You don't belong to anyone. I love you" you'd answer. And he'd break.
He doesn't know what it's like to not be owned. A slave. He doesn't know what it's like to be loved. Unconditionally.
He thinks you deserve better. But he can't let anyone else have you. So he becomes better.
Sorry this is soooo incredibly long and self-indulgent but I've been so obsessed for MONTHS this is so much pent up thoughts.... I'm so Normal about him <3
Yes you may absolutely interest me in a healthy relationship with Aventurine and I think every Aventurine fan needs to read this immediately-
The part about him coming home after a ‘work related incident’ had me SCREAMING oh my gosh
Like yeah coming to terms with the fact that Aventurine hurts people would be REALLY hard but you love him enough to trust him???
He definitely strikes me as the type who literally cannot imagine receiving anything without giving so to have someone just openly show him so much kindness without expecting something in return is literally shaking his world??
And yes physical touch Aventurine is so real- I have another ask proposing touch-starved Aventurine and that. Yeah that makes sense. Him counteracting that by being So physically affectionate just makes sense to me haha. He’s very in denial that he’s touch-starved haha…
Thank you for the food, I ENJOYED IT A LOT💕💕
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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months
Text
Not That Kind of Guy
Part One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts, he just really wants to make sure your silly little girl brain doesn’t get in the way of your safety, you have a cat, Anakin is a bartender [diary entries from Ani’s perspective] MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: May 2nd
The Cerulean was filled with loud music, flashing lights, and the stench of sweaty guys and spilt beer. Over-kill perfume on the girls who so desperately wanted my attention, writing their numbers on their drink coasters after finishing their stupid little cocktail. The occasional ‘break it up guys, c’mon’ yelled out at a pair of ‘roided up college boys. Peanut shells stuck to my sneakers at the end of the night, going home and washing off the stickiness from working behind the bar.
All things I was used to.
But you… not you. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight it was like the first time all over again.
Pink, skirt, sneakers, crop top. Such a cute little outfit; it made you easy to spot, easy to track, easy to watch over.
I have your drink order memorized. I so hoped you’d come back for another so I could hear your voice, to see your pretty little lips move just for me again. But you didn’t. Because you’re a smart girl. You knew that without a man around to look out for you, you’d be pretty hopeless if you got too tipsy. It only made me want to protect you more. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent to worry about the big nasty world around you.
That’s my job now.
I’ll always keep you safe, but I also want to keep you happy. You deserve the world and more, and I’ll give it to you.
I’d destroy the earth to build it up again in your design. I’d live for you, serve you, die for you, at any moment you might ask. Just say the word and I will. I promise I will.
Note: Motion sensors
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Date:
May 23rd
Anakin walked a safe distance behind you, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his hood up and head down. It was dark out, the only light was from the street lamps.
Sometimes when he walked you home he just wanted to run up and grab you by the shoulders and shake you; ask you to please for once just pay attention to your surroundings.
You walked around with your headphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. Yeah it was a straight shot to your apartment from the bar. Only having to cross the road once during the mile long journey down the sidewalk. But a mile was a good stretch of space and there were plenty of people who passed you. A handful of creepy, unlit alleyways you could be dragged into.
You were practically asking for it.
He just had to remind himself that this was just another reason you were so lucky to have him. He’d watch over you, so you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about nothin’.
Anakin stood by the corner store dumpster and watched as you trotted up the steps and tapped the door code into the keypad of your apartment building. After the door shut behind you and he saw the keypad flash red, he knew you were safely locked inside.
It took approximately one minute and 14 seconds for you to jog up the steps to your door, depending on how tired you were he could add a few seconds and not worry. But anything over 20 seconds had him sweating in a panic.
Tonight though you were right on time, his phone pinged with an alert that your door had been opened, and successfully shut behind you. Now he could breathe a sigh of relief and make his way back to work.
His boss was kind enough to never question why he skipped out for about 20 minutes a night or two a week. Anakin smoked, it wasn’t unlikely to assume he just got a little distracted scrolling on his phone during his smoke break or maybe just needed a few minutes of peace.
Now all he had to do was suffer through three more hours of monotonous work and try not get a head start on his hearing loss from the shitty music.
Then he could go home to you.
The cloak of stress he wore when you were out of sight vanished quickly when he perched on the fire escape and peered into your living room. Poor thing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again.
Not that he minded. It made his night that much better when he could sit closer to you. It was a pain to climb the ladder of the building next door and sit on the rooftop so he could see into your bedroom window. Very inconvenient, but worth it everytime.
He sat quietly, observing you and the way your lips twitched while you slept, as though you were having a conversation with someone in your dreams. Probably him, he thought.
“Oh, your blanket… you’re gonna be cold if you keep squirming around like that, your blanket is gonna end up in the floor.”
His fingers itched to pry open the window and tuck you back in, but he didn’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. No breaking and entering.
He decided it was time to head back to his own home after that, he couldn’t stay much longer without: a) falling asleep b) forcing his way into your apartment for the sake of keeping you warm.
So he trekked to the sidewalk, wiping off the rust stains on his palms from the old metal fire escape. Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket after blowing you a goodnight kiss.
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Diary Entry: June 6th
You owe me big time young lady.
You left your door unlocked and your window cracked open. It is 3:00am, what if someone snuck in? Then what would I do?
Die probably. I’d probably die if something happened to you.
Therefore, I bit the bullet and helped you out. I’m lucky you’re a heavy sleeper and I’m not easy to startle or else we both would’ve had a big scare tonight.
I cracked open your window, slipped in quietly, lowered it behind me, locked it. Double checked it and then triple checked it just in case.
When I turned around- christ that fucking cat. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. Guard dog? Who needs a guard dog when you’ve got that monster running around?
A quick blur of orange and a loud *reeeareow* was the only warning before it- sorry, Boogie, climbed up my leg with her little pitchfork claws. I handled it well, you’d be proud. I picked her up by the scruff and gave her a light bop on the noggin’ just like you do when she’s in trouble; except I didn’t kiss it better afterwards, I think she would’ve eaten me if I tried that.
Any-who, I carried her with me to the kitchen and got her a little treat from the cutesy kitten jar on the countertop. Then she decided we could be friends or well… maybe or maybe not I don’t really know, I guess we’ll see.
I plucked your spare key from the top of the fridge and quietly left your apartment. I locked the door and checked it several times, just in case.
As I walked down the steps I saw that the super was kind enough to leave a reminder that the keypad code had been changed, how nice of him! You are awfully forgetful sometimes. No worries princess I took a picture for safe keeping.
I need to change the batteries on or door sensors soon anyway, those little button batteries don’t last very long you know.
It was only when I got home that I realized I still had your spare key… tsk tsk Anakin. Ah well, that just means it won’t fall into the hands of someone it shouldn’t. I’ll keep it safe.
I love you 🖤
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Diary Entry: June 7th
You know, come to think of it. Now that I have a key I should get a few new items for your apartment, that way I can keep an eye on things for you while you’re away.
Note: Hd1080p microcam x4
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There will be a bot to go along with this series! This is really short compared to my usual posts: I just wanted to give all my little lovelies a snippet of what’s to come.
Part Two
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141
Let me know if you wanna be added/removed
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littyhoney · 1 year
Text
Right Person,Wrong Time (part 4)
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(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)
BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!
Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader
Summary: Seeing a familiar face but different person. A person you once loved.
Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, slight angst
P.s: I don't know how to feel about this chapter,im sorry that the update is slow but i believe in quality over quantity <3 enjoy spiders!
Today have been moving so fast,first you found out how Gwen got here as you follow Miles after he left the party to catch up on Gwen. The only reason you follow him was because you promised mama Rio.
(Flashback)
You watch as Miles walk away from the party down to the fire escape stairs standing beside mama Rio. You can sense her restless and worry feeling for her own son as you remembered how much Miles wanted to leave from here,to see somewhere new,spread his wings.
“It’s okay mama Rio,you know how Miles is, he'll be alright”You hold her hand try to reassure her. mama Rio sigh turning her head looking at you with a worry expression.
“I know he is but…I’m scared of him wanting to grow up so fast, you both are just teens my dear”She held both of your shoulder turning you to face her,firm grasp on your shoulders she says “Promise me dear…when me and Jeff are not around…promise me you keep him safe,look out for him”
You put your hand on one of her palm and nod your head “Promise,mama”
(End flashback)
How much are you willing to protect him? Your best friend? Currently you held a strong grip on his arm as you watch this Spider-man…with a name Miguel O'Hara is threatening to keep Miles him here in this spider club house thing. Because he is an anomaly…and Miguel also want to keep you here because you’re supposed…to die.
“Because of you Miles,she was supposed to die!”You were destined to die at the collider…when you’re trying to help your mentor,Peter Parker. At the hand of the Prowler,uncle Aaron.  The canon event for your mentor is to lose his uncle Ben…to lose you,his pupil.  
To know you’re supposed to die is like a punch in the guts… you feel sick in the stomach to know you’re not supposed to survive or even breath another day.
Currently you held Miles behind you shielding him from Miguel as he try to destroy the barrier that have been made from the big spider machine that transport any anomaly back to their original dimension. You stare wide eyes at Miguel who is trying his best to stop you both,to see this man trying to tear apart the barrier. Fear grips around you. Suddenly the machine finish its job making both of you float and transported back to your home…or so you though.  
“Aaahhh!!” you  screamed as you are transported into the portal moving so fast it spit out both spiders out on top of a rooftop,the rain pouring down makes everything slippery as you and Miles rolled and slide through the concrete. You and Miles are slightly injured after getting kicked,slammed and thrown around like a rag doll by other spiders. You prop yourself up on your elbow shaking your head slightly, your ears ringing your visions are double as you try to locate where Miles is. “M-miles…?”your visions focus to see him his mask off breathing heavily trying to slow down his heart as he lean back to the wall,hundreds of thoughts running through his head before he stands up “I need to get back home!”He runs and jump from the rooftop swing himself away.
“Miles! Wait!”You stand up try to catch up to him but the pain on your left leg makes you limping before swing your web following him. Miles keep on swinging as fast as he can to his house,to find his dad,his mom. You follow behind him trying to get his attention from doing anything irrational.
Miles stick outside of the wall of his room opening the window and went inside, his heart racing as he take in deep breaths. You swing towards the window and you yelped as you landed on your injured leg holding yourself up on the wall, just as you climb in you heard the knob to the door turn you reach for anything nearby to cover your suit,a sweater. You grip the sweater together tightly trying your best to cover your suit.
The door to the room open slightly follow by a voice, “Miles?”
 You and Miles look at the door, to see his mom holding a laundry basket in her other hand,she look at her son.Rio look confuse to see her son but Miles desperate voice make her even worried.
“Mom..there is something coming for us,somethin terrible”Miles says
“Miles you’re talking crazy whats going on?”Rio walk closer to her son her eyes keep darting towards you.
Miles continue “His name is Spot…he is our nemesis, and we gonna stop him. I know you know…we been lying to you,it’s because that I knew…you won’t love me the same. You won’t look at (N/N) the same way too. Then I went out there and..now im not afraid of anything”
“What do you wanna tell me?”Rio ask her son.
“You gotta promise nothing’s gonna change mom”
“Papa I will always love you”
“You gotta promise”Miles desperately says
“Always,I don’t care what you said,Tu me tiendes?”Rio walks closer to him and hold one of his hand trying to reasure her son.
Miles pull away from her before he turn to the side readying himself to do this, he sigh “Mom” and pull the zip down turning to his mom. “I'm spider-man”he pull his jacket apart showing his mom his spider suit. “A-and (Y/N) is also the spider-man/spider-woman”
Rio just look at her son in confusion before she ask “W-Who’s Spider-man?”
You frown slightly as you are witnessing everything unfold,surely everyone in Brooklyn knows who you guys are. Every news and thousands of video on YouTube telling the world about the spider duo shoving the information to every.single.person.
“And who is (Y/N)?”she ask again tilting her head slightly looking at her son.
The moment she ask that you are stun,your eyes widened again looking through the window,are you hearing this right?. You blink a few times before, keeping your eyes at the familiar woman in front of you yet something in your gut is telling you she is not the same woman who would give you hug and kiss your forehead.
she let out a chuckle before giving his son a small smile “Miles you been keeping a secret of having a partner from me hm?”she turns to walk out of the room with the laundry basket in her hand.
Your spider sense goes off as you watch this woman who look exactly like your mama Rio,your brows knitted together watching Miles run out of his room following his ‘mom’ to the living room trying his best to explain.
You stuck at your spot,with your thoughts run haywire at what is happening,why she doesn’t remember you?, why she acts like you never met?, why does her aura feel different?
You shake your head,you need to focus. You keep watching as Miles is talking to his ‘mom’ before both of your attention drawn to the sound of a door knob unlocking at the main entrance of the house.
You press yourself closer peeking through the window still confuse while Miles seems to figure out what is happening looking scared at the door.
The door open to reveal, Aaron Davis. Miles supposedly dead uncle “U-uncle Aaron?” Miles mumble looking at the familiar figure walking through the door. Your eyes widen seeing the familiar figure walk infront of the open door, Uncle Aaron?. Your eyes darted to Miles,he look like he is seeing a ghost from the past then it all click in your head. You are in a different place, a place with no Spider-man to protect, a completely different dimension…you’re in a dimension of where the spider that bit Miles originally came from. Earth-42.
“Oh my god…”you mumble to yourself pressing yourself to the wall looking up at the sky mumbling “Shit…shit,shit”
You gulp as the anxious feeling and fear grip your throat like a choke hold. How in the hell you and Miles are going to get out of this? You see Uncle Aaron push Miles away slightly making a comment about him taking out his braids?
Miles turning his head making eye contact,you can see It in his eyes. He is scared. He turn his head to his uncle following him out of the house climbing up the stairs.
You crawl up the wall following them as in your head is screaming something is wrong,everything is. Both of you are in danger. You pull yourself up hiding behind the many scraps and metal on top of the rooftop keeping an eyes on Miles. As you walk further to the front your eyes looking around the place before you discover something even more heart breaking…on the wall Is a graffiti Of Jefferson Davis with a writing of ‘Rest in Power’.
Your heart starting to beat faster fear grips you fully, your head snap towards Miles just to see him got knocked out falling straight to the floor.
“Miles!”you jumped out from where you hide swinging your web to his body to pull him to you, to run. But your web got cut by a flashing purple,whatever it is that thing is fast. You ready yourself shooting out both of your web at it but the thing catches it pulling you to it before your head is punch with something metal. Your body flew back but you got yourself on your knee shaking your head to get rid of the ringing in your ears. You push forward charging at where its standing over Miles but suddenly something stinging comes from the back of your neck you hiss reaching your hand to pull whatever it is. It’s a fucking sleeping dart, shit you though to yourself but you try to walk to Miles body but you starting to see double and everything is swaying from side to side. You fall to your hand and knees fighting the urge to pass out.
The figure came closer to you kneeling down to your level lifting your head by gripping your chin to look at the purple Mask before a distorted voice says “duerme, arañita”your head slips from his hand landing on the floor pass out.
Uncle Aaron walk towards the two limp body before saying “A fierce one ay?”picking up Miles body and moves to the other one.
“No,I’ll take this one”the figure says before move to pick the limp body slinging it over his shoulder and walk towards the hideout. Aaron shrug and follows them inside.
(Timeskip a few hours later)
You blink as you slowly gaining conscious, you try to move your hands but it stop by a chain that is hanging you up on the ceiling making your feet hover a few inches off the ground. You struggle in your bind hopping it to lose or break but of course,it didn’t. You try to press on to your web shooter but to find nothing is on your wrist, shit they take your web shooter.  
“Dont even try, little spider”You snap your head to the figure who is wearing a neon mask that illuminates in the darkness. The figure walks closer to you,he walks slowly around you taking in the details of what you are. You are the same as the other one,a spider.
“What did you do to Miles”you hiss out through your teeth trying to look intimidating at the figure,the figure let out a whistle as he stands infront of you. “Calm down,heh it’s not that you can do anything without your web no?”He reply with a clear smug.
“I can take you down just fine with or without the web”you glare at the mask,the stupid neon mask that is mocking you. “Maybe you open that stupid mask of yours so I can fuck your face up like a pulp”
The guy chuckle before saying “You first little spider”he reaches his hand on top of your head gripping your mask. You try to move away your head but its useless as the figure rip your mask off revealing your face glaring at him.
Him on the other hand,didn’t expect to see such face staring back at him. The fire in your eyes staring right into his soul, it sparks something in him. He take a good look of how your lips are shaped,how your hair framing your face. He is stunned,shame that you,re with ‘him’.
“Open yours,what you’re scared now?”you taunting him when you see him just staring at you. The guy chuckle before he open his mask looking at you with a smirk on his lips.
“Miles…?”
(To be continued…)
yall can come and start a riot on me
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vulnonapix1234 · 11 months
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I adore the idea of Miles putting the fear of God into the spidersociety by training more of his lightning and camouflage skills.
Because the power of lightning is terrifying, especially since they aren't common under the spiders.
I also imagine that he has extreme silicone valley vibes. Both for the other spiders and those from his universe.
Be it the fact that he smells like rain (even in the hottest of summers), that his eyes shimmer a blue when there is a storm brewing or how some of the electrucal machinery just stops working whenever he is in a "mood".
(This doesn't mean that others dislike or get out of his way. Miles is a social butterfly, even if he accidentaly shocks you)
But to get back to him terrifying others.
Miles is really smart, even if most people underestimate him for being a child.
He figured out how to charge a phone without destroying it to get a better control over his powers.
Because he doesn't want to kill anyone with them.
It escalates after that.
He builds up his stamina by going bigger and bigger till he was able to manipulate big machinery with them.
(Margo and Penny where a big help with that)
He was even able to manipulate his lighting into "webs". It takes work because he has to place small metal rods around his victims, before the can actually use his lightning as a trap.
Then he trained in controlling electricity that doesn't come from him, by going into dimensions with lightningstorms to get hit with it.
It is as insane as it sounds, but it turned into a great way to get his emotions out. Its like screaming into a pillow for him and he finds a lot of joy in it.
(The poor souls that saw him train believed him to be a crypit. The society was even called a few times, but they never catched him in the act. )
(Pav on the other hand did and it awoke a lot in him. Especially since je wasn't aware that this was Miles, as he never really got to see his face. Him and Gayatri kinda searched for the "boy that commended lightning".)
Miles actually dtarted to fuck with the weather after that, creating his own lightningstorms by letting his own lightning heat up the atmosphere enough.
Its really draining for him though so only its only successful 2/10 times and he actually faints 5/10 if he doesn't get striked by lightning.
But if he is successful in creating a lighting storm he is actually able to cast a Kirin like Sasuke. Even if his doesn't look like a dragon.
(He doesn't do it alone due to the fear of fainting. The only person he trusts with this is Hobie. Hobie himself isn't sure if he should be amazed that Miles can manipulate the weather or if he should fear for his friend. )
(It ping pongs depending if miles is successful and happy in his small lighting storm or if he is resting inside of his arms)
He does all of this training away from the eyes of the spidersociety.
Miles is a forgive but not forget type, so hed like to have a few cards up his sleeve.
(There are moments where he has to ise them through. Battles that could escalate if he didn't give his all. But the shocked faces afterwards are the best)
(People that are aware of his entire training: Hobie, 42, Penny, Margo and Noir. Hobie is more of an emotional support, whilst Margo and Penny really help him with the manipulating of machinery and his own discharge if he gets the zoomies. 42 keeps on making miles go over his boundaries to see what he could do. Noir is their trusted adult who actually keeps Miles in check if he is about to go to far)
(People that kind of know: Pav, Gwen and Spiderham. Its not that Miles doesn't trust him. He just doesn't want to involve them in his insanity. Especially Spiderham, who had just lost Meows Morales and would do foolish things in his grief. Miles also just wants to impress pav, especially after he told him about "the boy that could tame lighting". Neither are aware.
(People that don't know: Peter, the spider society and his parents.)
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jongseongsnudes · 5 months
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twenty nine.
warning; ✨smut✨ 2.1k words. masterlist.
“so how did you do it?”
“does it matter?”
the man’s nonchalant answer makes you turn to him, a frown on your face while it’s the complete opposite on his.
“i’m serious sunghoon, i want to know.”
he smirks and enters the lift that had just arrived, leaving you to hurry and follow blindly behind.
“shareholders. as long as they favoured me, i could do anything. me dating han sooji helped a lot with that, so when the annual company meeting rolled around, i had most of them on my side to kick my father off,” he shrugs, unbothered, “technically he still holds the highest position but i make all the choices.”
“you must’ve had a hard time because of me,” you sigh, hands naturally reaching for his arm, “i’m sorry...”
“i don’t want to talk about work, i’ve done enough of that today,” sunghoon also sighs before turning his entire attention onto you, his body now moving closer towards you, “i want to do something else.”
“what-”
his lips were on yours before you could say anything else, kissing you with so much force that your body slams back into the wall behind. you’re now cornered in with sunghoon’s body pressed harshly against yours, his hands already grasping onto your waist to hold you down.
it’s suddenly so hot inside the lift, the air ridiculously thick and heavy. your entire body feels as though it’s about to burst, your heart beating at a mile a minute. and that's just from sunghoon kissing you.
you’ve missed him, a lot. his kisses, his touches, his smirk, hell even his shitty personality. you’ve missed everything about the man, so much that apart of you is beginning to think this was an illusion. that you’re just going crazy.
his cold hand suddenly grasping the back of your neck brings you out of your delusional thoughts, a soft whimper emitting from your lips at how harsh he was being.
“w- we’re almost there sunghoon…” as much as you wanted him, you were very aware of the cameras and having this somehow leaked was not on your current to do list.
the man stops but doesn’t pull away entirely, his hands resting at your waist. he smiles down at you, something your very weak heart wasn’t ready or even expecting to see. this sight of him was something you’ve come to love so much, an image engraved forever into your mind.
a happy sunghoon.
“it better be me you’re thinking of inside that small head of yours or else you shouldn’t be smiling like that.”
of course the man was an expert at destroying good moments, always has been with that big mouth of his.
“the only head associated with your name is headache.”
“wow. funny,” he says with his signature smug grin, his grip on your neck tightening. it immediately sends a shiver throughout your body, not only because of how cold his touch was but also because of how rough he suddenly was. a complete switch up from the sunghoon a minute before.
he holds you there, your eyes unable to be anywhere but on him.
“i can think of another head associated with me and it starts with you getting on your knees princess.”
gulp.
shit.
“oh? my baby so shy all of a sudden?”
it’s crazy how one specific word could affect you so much, your clenching core being the very proof of that.
luckily for him, you and your panties, his floor was quickly approaching, something sunghoon also caught notice of. he reaches for your hand when the doors open up, pulling you inside the one place you never thought you’d see again. his apartment.
not even two steps inside the home and you’re pushed up against his wall, his body pressed on yours, his hands grabbing at every one of your curves. he kisses you immediately, giving you no time to register what was even going on.
*ring ring ring*
you let your phone be inside your clutch, too busy with sunghoon’s lips to care but it rings yet again, and again. curiosity eventually gets the better of you, your hands pushing sunghoon back a little but the man only pushes forward instead.
“sunghoon let me see who it is-”
“you are so annoying,” the man rolls his eyes a little too dramatically before fishing for your phone himself. the face he makes is unreadable, the raised brows and smirk that follows tells you it must’ve been someone unexpected. “of course fucking choi would be the one to interrupt.”
“wait-” you were quick to grab his arm, stopping sunghoon just as he was about to throw your poor phone, “you already broke my phone once, remember!”
a smile appears on his face as he continues watching you, tauntingly. he doesn’t throw it, instead holding it up to your face, waving it about.
but then he does it anyway, throwing your phone across the hallway floor like trash.
“park sunghoon!”
“forget it, i’ll buy you a whole phone store if you want,” he says it so casually, brows furrowed over as he leans back into you, “now shut up and let me fucking kiss you-”
“no! you don’t get to be a dick then still get what you want.”
despite your yelling, the man begins laughing instead, only annoying you further. the audacity in this man always surprised you but then again... did it really?
pushing him off, you storm away like an angry child, only for him to pick you up just two seconds later. the man has one arm around your waist, easily holding you up as he walks over to the couch where he throws you onto it. like he did to your phone a moment before.
“i’m park sunghoon baby, i always get what i want.”
your next complaint is caught in your throat when he begins to undo his tie, throwing it aside like his suit jacket and white button up that followed soon after. now you’re too stunned to even speak, with your mouth hung opened at the new sight of a topless sunghoon.
he smirks at your reaction, that stupid smirk that you can’t for the life of you explain why you find so attractive. only park sunghoon could ever.
“you’re thinking of me now aren’t you?” he steps closer, one leg kneeling on the couch as he pushes your body into a lying position. the man hovers over you, his face barely an inch away but it’s definitely close enough to drive you insane.
“n- no.”
“you just love to annoy me,” he chuckles but it’s his gaze that catches you off guard. the way he looks at your face all over, with heavy lidded eyes, ones some may label as bedroom eyes. “this face. all the shit i’ve had to do for this stupid pretty face.”
“are you... insulting me or complimenting me?”
“take it however you want because stupid or not, doesn’t change the fact that you’re pretty.”
“hey-”
sunghoon leans right in, closing the small gap, kissing you yet again. his lips feel so unbelievably soft, so smooth moving against yours. you’d kiss him forever if you could.
you’re so lost in the moment to realise sunghoon had undressed himself, the man having done it so fast. he’s now lying on top of you naked, with one hand already grasping your upper thigh, thanks to how high the slit of your gown was.
“you look so good in this... i’m going to fuck you in it.”
and true to his words, his hand is immediately in between your legs, eagerly kneading you through your evidently wet panties. the coldness of his fingers against your core evokes something from you, a different side of you that only park sunghoon could ever bring out. a horny, desperate you.
“sunghoon... please.”
you really needed him and you needed him now.
“please what?” the man grips your jaw as he asks, holding your face still so he could look directly into your eyes, “tell me.”
“sung- sunghoon please- i need you.”
as if a switch went off in his brain the moment you said those words, his gaze instantly going from playful to serious all in two seconds. silence overtakes the room, the only sound being the deep breath he takes as his lips press together tightly.
“you...” he leans down to you, lips just hovering above your ear as he positions himself at your entrance, his tip rubbing you just a little, “you drive me insane.”
the noise that leaves your throat is one you didn’t even know you could possibly make, one so breathy, so sinful. every part of you begins to fall apart when he enters you at a record breaking slow pace.
you know he’s just toying with you, he always does, but god did he always manage to make you feel good. even through frustration.
his name is the only thing you manage to mutter, your voice so embarrassingly whiny as he thrusts right back into you. hard and fast this time. white washes over your eyes at the new sensation, each one of his thrusts filling you more and more.
“you’re- it’s so big...”
you don’t mean to boost his ego but he is big, your pussy never seemingly ready for him ever. you could always feel yourself stretching around him, your walls clenching so desperately to feel more of him, something you knew for a fact he loved.
“but you take me so well,” he says breathlessly against your skin, the ends of his lips immediately curving from the way your body reacts to every one of his words, “baby you were made for me.”
there’s nothing left on your mind, your body completely on overdrive with every one of his thrusts. words are no longer a thing for you both, replaced by moans, groans and the sound of him pounding into you resonating throughout the entire apartment.
it’s so hot, sweat forming in all possible places but you don’t care. hell, you wanted to be as humanly close to this man as possible.
“sung- sunghoon-”
a familiar knot in the pit of your core tells you that you’re almost there but not quite. you needed that last push and thankfully for you, sunghoon knew exactly how to get you there and could so with such ease. like every other time.
your eyes roll to the back of your head when he suddenly angles himself better, hitting you in one specific spot, over and over, edging you closer and closer to your high. you haven’t been with sunghoon many times but the man knew your body so well, even more so than yourself.
“my baby.”
and that did it for you.
you claw at his shoulders, eyes now shut tightly as everything becomes too much. your body shudders beneath him as you finally reach that cloud nine high, your mind completely blank, unlike your heart that’s currently beating like crazy.
it’s not long before the man also comes crashing down with profanity and the low calls of your name on his own lips. he fills you, full to the brim with his load. so much so that you could feel bits of it already leaking out onto your gown and the couch.
seeing him rest his head into the crook of your neck, you naturally begin to thread your fingers through his hair, hoping it’d help in some way. instead of complaining like you fully expected him to do, you feel his heavy breathes on your skin, his lips leaving behind a soft trail of kisses.
“stay here with me,” his voice is so soft, barely audible but you can hear every single one of his words so clearly, “be with me.”
it was no doubt now how much this man meant to you, how much you wanted him to be in your life. but the possibility of that happening now seemed even more out of reach than before.
as much as you wanted to tell him everything, that what you felt towards him now was much more than a simple crush... you just couldn’t find it in you to say it.
and you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to say it at this point.
end.
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dreddedwheat · 1 year
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Spiderverse Spoilers: My thoughts on The Spot
Okay so, Across the Spiderverse had fucking great characters - Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk), Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) and of course, Pavitr Prabhakar (Spider-Man India). All are absolute stand-outs, they're all fucking sick, there's no other way of putting it.
This film is an easy 10/10. But I was really impressed with what they did with The Spot.
I'm a big critic of 'silly' villains from comic-books being reduced to one note comedy characters in favour of edgier but much blander villains.
The Spot is a perfect example of how you can have a villain be silly, and remain that way, and still have him be intimidating as all hell.
Spoilers below, reader beware
So first of all, The Spot doesn't actually change that much as a character throughout the film. True we don't see much of him aside from the first fight with Miles and his appearance in Mumbattan, but every time we do he's pretty much the same...in terms of personality.
He's a great subversion of expectations, and I really didn't expect him to be THE villain of the whole film (aside from Miguel ofc). He gets much stronger naturally, and yet he remains this rather relaxed, awkward and aloof person.
He seems completely detached and obsessed with Spider-Man. Not in a teeth-gnashing, Green Goblin-like manner though. He holds a grudge, and wants to see it through to the point he doesn't even flinch at the idea of destroying the universe to do so.
And I love how they use his body-language to convey this. At first he's hunched and awkward, with a paunch and generally pathetic in motion. But the more powerful becomes, the more relaxed he is, slinking about and being almost graceful but with the exact same physique.
He doesn't get more confident, he always was, because he's self-centred (literally if you remember that one scene). I mean he fucking robs a guy, and spends the whole time basically complaining and whining that this is a 'bad experience' for him because someone's standing up to him.
For The Spot, he simply is Spider-Man's nemesis and that means he's totally justified in doing whatever it takes to destroy his life. It's the "Welp, guess I'm evil" approach but done much better.
It takes a character so easily dismissed and makes him a much more grounded and effective villain in every conceivable way.
I'm sure we'll get more insight into his backstory, and probably have more serious grounding with his motivation. But for now the utterly casual nature of him is what makes him so much fun to watch, and almost scary in a way.
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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redstarwriting · 1 year
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the clash | viii. love you to death
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 4.2k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, venom hating hobie, anxious and sad hobie, panic attacks, fight scene, injuries, lots of injuries, angst with fluff and then some more angst and then fluff again, mentions of blood, broken bones
a/n: y’all.... this one was so fun HAHA i’ve been seeing scenes from this part play out in my head ever since i thought of the plot so it was so so SO fun putting it into actual words. we’re getting closer to the end now, and i am so grateful for everyone who decided they wanted to read this lil story i thought up 🖤 i hope you enjoy!
previous chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated
now reading: viii. love you to death
next chapter: ix. last caress
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“Uh, Hobie… the hell is happening right now,” Miles asks, but Hobie stays silent. He’s trying so hard not to freak out. It’s taking everything in him to not give in to his emotions. He clenches his fists. “Let ‘em go,” he demands, and Venom laughs. “I don’t think so. I like this body more than I expected to. Looks like we’re in the same boat there, aren’t we?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, an all too familiar anger stirring in him. “Awww, are you going to kill me like you did yourself?” Venom giggles, and he glares at it. “Just fuckin’ might, mate,” he says through gritted teeth, and Gwen pipes up. “What? Hobie, what are they talking about?”
“Piss off, Gwen. That’s not them,” he snaps, and she frowns underneath her mask. “We’re here to help you Hobie,” she says, and he clenches his jaw. “I don’t need no help.”
“On the contrary, I think you need all the help you can get. You mess up everything when you don’t have it, no?” Venom says, amused. Hobie knows it’s just trying to antagonize him. He knows that. But he can’t help but get angry. It’s using your body.
But he also knows that he does need help. He just can’t say his plan in front of this freakshow. “Go back to Spider Society, Gwen,” he touches his guitar, “tell Miguel I got it under control. Just gonna amp up this space slime a bit.” He hopes that was a clear indication of what he needs Gwen to do.
“Are you sure?” she asks slowly, and he smirks. She got it. “Positive.” With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pav disappear. If Hobie gets as many amps as possible, he can repeat what he did with Osborn and save you. Of course, the act of destroying this Venom might require more than just noise and be a little harder, but he’s willing to do anything to save you.
Anything.
Venom laughs. “That was a dumb move, what you just did,” it says, and he shrugs. “Yeah well, I’m full of those lately,” he responds, trying to think of his next move. He doesn’t want to destroy your flat, but he doesn’t want to cause too much damage to the city as a whole. “Are you going to do something, or do you prefer I kill you just standing there?” Venom asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Kill me? You’re a cheeky alien, you are,” he says, and he leaps off of the balcony. Venom follows him. He begins webbing through the city, expertly. Honestly, it’s a good thing he’s been here to see you so many times. But Venom keeps up with him, occasionally shooting out some symbiote webs at him. Luckily, he’s able to see it and dodge them with no problem.
He sees a giant arena and decides that’s a good place to fight Venom. Especially as it was all dark and he saw a sign talking about a celebration there for tomorrow, which means everything was most likely set up already and he didn’t have to worry about anyone being there since the event wasn’t until tomorrow.
He webs into it, landing in the nose bleeds and disappearing into the shadows. He hears Venom land where he was with a chuckle. “You can’t outrun me, Spider-Punk,” it says, and Hobie quietly webs down a few levels and ducks into a closed clothing store in the arena. He calls Gwen, who picks up almost immediately. “Shh,” Hobie says before she can say anything. “Bring the amps to the Mortician Square Garden Arena, line ‘em across the top, I’ll keep Venom distracted til you finish,” he whispers, and Gwen nods. “And one more thing. Get as much as you can out of (Y/n)’s flat, okay? Get Shadow out, take him to Miguel, and all the vinyls, their aunt’s skull, as much as you can,” he whispers, and she gives him a confused look. “Why?” she asks, and he sighs. “Their world isn’t gonna make it,” he says, and Gwen’s eyes widen. She mumbles a quick ‘got it,’ before hanging up.
He sits in the silence, confused as to why he doesn’t feel any presence. Suddenly, an inky tendril shoots out at him, and grabs him, pinning his arms to his sides. He mutters expletives, trying to get out of Venom’s grasp, but to no avail. He comes face to face with the grinning monster. “Found you.”
“Fuck you, mate,” he grunts, and thrashes around. “I thought you would be more difficult to catch. Looks like I was wrong,” it says and Hobie rolls his eyes. “Woulda been harder, bu–”
“But your little sense trick doesn’t work on me. That’s how I caught (Y/n), too,” says Venom as they pull Hobie’s mask off. Hobie glares at them and tries to get out of its grip again. “They’re right… you are handsome,” Venom says, and he delivers a successful kick to the symbiote. “Get out of their head,” he growls, and it giggles. “That tickled.”
Venom throws him across the room with force. He flies through a wall and groans as he stands up. Venom shoots out a tendril to catch him again, but he successfully dodges it. “If only you could hear their pleas for me to leave you alone,” Venom says, and it makes Hobie angrier. “I said get out of their head!” He yells, throwing a giant chunk of concrete at Venom only to have it shatter when it comes into contact with it. It only slightly falters, but that enough time for Hobie to quickly web away. He just needs to keep Venom preoccupied while Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr set up the first part of the plan.
He hears Venom following him, taunting him, and consistently trying to grab at him. As long as he keeps Venom from seeing outside, everything should go off just fine. He just hopes Miles, Gwen, and Pav can let him know when to go outside with Venom close behind. Ah well. Improvising is what spiders do best, anyways. Hobie is swinging past a food booth when Venom hits him into it. He winces as he crashes through the wall separating the front from the kitchen and straight into the knobs on the giant grill. Of course, it turns the electric grill on, but that’s the least of Hobie’s worries as Venom then uses one of its “webs” to pin him down on the ground. He grabs the web and tries to get it off of him, but it doesn’t work. Venom sprouts tendrils that make it literally look like a spider, with “legs” coming out of its back.
Luckily, Venom places one of these legs on top of the already hot grill, causing it to scream out in pain and freak out just enough for Hobie to get out of the “web’s” grasp. He quickly runs off, shooting out a web to disappear out of Venom’s sight. He sneaks around to the outside and sees Pav pushing an amp in place. It looks like they’re about halfway done, and Hobie nods. He can keep that thing distracted for that much longer.
He sneaks back into the indoor part of the stadium. He thinks about it, but ultimately decides he’s had enough with the stealth method. It obviously isn’t helping him in this instance, like it ever helped him before. “HEY VENOM! COME GET ME YA FUCKIN’ TOSSER!” he yells, and to his expectation, Venom burst through a wall and screams at him. Hobie shoots a web upwards and leaps up to the next story. Venom bursts through the floor, and Hobie quickly fires a web at a pillar, wrapping around it a few times and then firing another one to another pillar and tying them together tightly before taking off and doing it again to the next set of pillars, and then repeating it again. He made sure the first trap would land in the middle of Venom’s body, the second more of a tripwire, and the third at clothesline level. And it worked.
Venom ran directly into the first trap, which slowed it down, and then the second made it stumble and the third snapped its head back at a gross angle. It groans, and Hobie waves at it. “You should really watch where ya goin’,” he says, and Venom growls. “They feel everything.”
“What?” Hobie falters. “Your little partner. They feel it all.” Hobie frowns. Is that true? Did he just hurt you? Venom senses his distraction, and grabs him, pushing him down through the floor. He grunts, and Venom laughs. “It’s too easy,” it says, and Hobie glares at it. He’s trying to pretend like he isn’t completely battered and bruised by Venom, but damn. This alien can fight. He grunts as Venom picks him up off the ground and pushes him forcefully against the wall. “Aww, did that hurt?” Venom giggles, and he spits on it. He ignores that there was blood mixed in with the spit. That’s… probably not good, though. Venom smiles at him. “I don’t think I am going to kill you,” it hisses, cocking its head to the side. “I think I’ll keep you in case this body breaks.”
“Piss off, I’d never let you do that to me.”
“Even if it meant I would let (Y/n) go?” it asks, and Hobie clenches his jaw. Venom giggles. “Say I let them go, they could run free without the influence of me. Would you do it then?” Hobie clenches his fists, staying quiet. “You’d just make me kill them.”
“Clever boy,” it says, and Hobie yelps as Venom tightens its grip on him. “But you’re right. This body will do just fine, and I can easily find a new host if I need to,” Venom says, smirking at Hobie, “I’ll be kind to you before I kill you,” Venom says, and suddenly Venom’s creepy and unsettling grin melts away, and Hobie sees your face. You’ve been crying, and that sight alone breaks his heart. And your heart breaks at the sight of his bloodied lip, black eye and cut forehead. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to each other at the same time, but before any more words can be said, Venom takes over again.
Hobie tries to get out of its grasp again, but it's not happening. “Interesting choice for your last words,” Venom forms a fist, ready to strike Hobie, but before it can, it’s arm gets pulled backward by another web. “Those will not be his last words,” he hears Pavitr say. “Yeah, his last words will probably be ‘I DON’T AGREE WITH PEACEFUL PROTESTS’ or some shit,” Miles chimes in, webbing the arm holding Hobie against the wall and yanking it away from him. “I was thinking more like ‘I won’t let you hurt them!’ because I mean wow look at how unhinged he is right now! Imagine when they’re actually together,” Pav says. “Not the time, Pav,” Miles shakes his head, yanking Venom’s arm, even more, to make it parallel to the arm Pavitr’s holding back.
Pavitr and Miles hold Venom’s arms back as it shrieks and Hobie leaps away from it. “Good timin’, lads,” he says, wiping some of the blood off his face. “Don’t mention it,” Miles grunts and Hobie dodges some attacks thrown by Venom’s tendrils. “Miles! It’s sensitive to heat!” Hobie yells, and Miles smirks. “Ahhhh, I gotcha,” he says and uses his venom electricity strike. Venom yelps and falls backward. Pav and Miles let go of its arms, and the three of them crouch down. “Where’s Gwen?”
“She’s outside getting all the chords connected so all the amps play at once,” Miles says after electrocuting Venom again, meaning it didn’t hear what Miles just said. “Amazin’,” Hobie mumbles, dodging some more of Venom’s attacks. “I’m gonna get up there, stall it woulda?” Hobie says, webbing away.
He knows Venom is going to try and follow him, so he heads out to the open field. When he gets out there, he sees rows and rows of fireworks. What the hell were they celebrating that they needed this much fire power? He hears Venom’s yell and decides it’s not important, but it’s good that all of it is there. They can use that. He climbs and webs his way up to the top of the stadium, running over to Gwen who hands him the chord. “Thank you,” he says, plugging his guitar in, and she nods. “Don’t mention it.”
“Did you get everything out of their flat?”
“As much as we could. How do you know it’s the end?” she asks, and he frowns. “Cause I caused it.” He looks down, clenching his jaw and clearing his throat.
“It’s bout to get real loud. Tell Miles and Pav to lure it out,” Hobie says, and Gwen nods, about to web off. “Wait! Gwen, throw all the fireworks in a big pile,” he says, pointing to all of the fireworks. “What? Why?”
“Venom is sensitive to heat. Let’s blow it up.”
“But (Y/n) is–”
“They won’t be bonded when it happens, go!” Hobie says, and Gwen hurries to help the boys lure Venom out into the open. Hobie watches and waits, when he hears police sirens going off. Oh great. Piggies are coming to play. Maybe Venom will eat some of them. That would be the only time he ever supported Venom doing something. His attention gets pulled back to the field when he hears Venom’s shrieks. He sees Pav and Gwen web out, starting to throw the fireworks into a pile, and then Venom stumbles out, screaming from Miles electrocuting it once again. Hobie pulls out his pick, placing his fingers to form the beginning chord to one of his favorite songs. He hesitates and places his fingers to form a different chord. This time, it’s one of your favorite songs. He knows all of them by heart, anyways.
“When did you learn this song?” you ask him, as he lazily strums along to one of the songs playing on your vinyl player. He shrugs. “I hear it so much when I come over here, the real question would be when didn’t I learn this song,” he says, and you roll your eyes. He smiles slightly when he sees you swaying back and forth and humming along to the music.
The song ends, and without a beat, Hobie starts strumming along to the next one. “I must listen to this vinyl way too much,” you comment, and he shrugs. “At least it isn’t a shit album.”
Watching you vibe with his playing made him make a promise to himself, he would always learn your favorite songs just so he could see your reaction to him playing them.
How didn’t he realize his feelings before?
Venom spots him, and screams up at him, ready to rush up the seats of the stadium and take him down. He takes a deep breath.
“Come back to me, love.”
He strums, and the sound causes Venom to stumble, holding its ears while it screams. He can see Gwen, Pav, and Miles wince slightly from the noise as they finish bringing all the fireworks into a pile in the middle of the stadium. They web up to where Hobie is and turn to see what happens. Hobie doesn’t acknowledge them, his main focus is on you. Venom’s skin starts bubbling around you, and it seems to literally be melting. He sees flashes of you, the pain affecting you in the same way as Venom. It nearly makes him stop playing seeing the distress on your face. But he remembers it’s the symbiote causing you the pain, and he needs to get it off of you as soon as possible. The position Venom is in, trying desperately to cover its ears suddenly breaks as you finally regain control of your own body. You rip some of the symbiote off, your face breaking through. Hobie keeps playing, fixated on you as you crawl away from the inky black alien. It looks straight out of a horror movie, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re gonna think you looked so cool. He’ll still give you some playful shit about how you looked though. It wouldn’t be the same if he didn’t.
He nearly tears up when he sees you completely separate from Venom. You look up, seeing him and the others, and immediately web up to him. You’re in your suit, but your mask isn’t on, and Hobie stops playing seeing that you’re next to him. You immediately wrap your arms around him, hugging him like your life depended on it. He hugs back, somehow tighter than you are. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and he shakes his head. “No, love, you’re okay. You don’t have to apologize for nothin’,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. If the two of you could choose, you would stay like this forever. But the two of you are spiders. And it never works out like that for spiders.
“HOBIE LOOK OUT!”
Hobie hears Gwen shout just a second too late, and one of Venom’s “webs” attaches itself to his back, pulling him off the edge of the stadium. You reach your hand out to prevent it, and Hobie reaches out his, but you just weren’t fast enough. Your fingertips brush each other, but before you can grab his hand, he’s out of reach. You watch as he gets pulled down to the bottom of the stadium.
For the second time, you weren’t fast enough.
You get flashbacks to your second canon event, and a single tear escapes your eye.
Hobie, on the other hand, can feel Venom overtake him, no matter how hard he tries to fight it off. He starts to panic, hearing Miguel’s voice in his mind.
“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”
Now the tears are falling freely down his face. This can’t be happening. He can’t let this happen. Why is this happening?
Once the shock of what happened passes, you find yourself pissed off. You just got back to Hobie, and now this alien thinks it can take him away? Fuck that. You scream out of frustration, webbing down and punching Venom’s newly formed face, full force. Well, as full force as your exhausted body will let you. You feel your hand break from your own strength coming into contact with something equally as strong, but Venom falls backward, so you don’t really care. You ignore the pain, noticing the pile of fireworks. You understand the assignment immediately. Unfortunately for you, Venom bounces back faster than you thought and punches you in the stomach. You grunt, coughing up blood, as you fly backward and hit the side of the stadium wall, hard. You glare at Venom, who laughs. “So weak,” you hear it say, and you glare at it. “Maybe if I should have drained more of your life force. Then you wouldn’t have even been able to punch me like that. Though, I know it took up more energy than you would have liked to do so,” Venom roars at you, beginning to charge at you.
You web to the other side of the stadium as Miles jumps down. “I got it,” he says, electrocuting Venom once more to slow it down. It screams and swats him out of the way. He hits the wall, and shakes his head, webbing up to Gwen and Pav, who immediately assesses the damage he got from Venom’s hit. They notice you’re up here, too now. “You are just so fast,” Pav says, impressed. “Oh my god, (Y/n), your hand,” she says, seeing it already turning black and blue, and blood pouring from it. “Not important right now,” you growl, picking up Hobie’s guitar. Luckily, your strumming hand is the hand that broke, so you form your fingers to a specific chord and strum. You play Hobie’s favorite song, the one he taught you to try and show you ‘real music’ so long ago.
“Ugh, can’t we listen to something other than your moody goth music?” Hobie asks, lazily turning his head towards you as he laid on his couch. Gwen, Pav, and Miles left like 30 minutes ago, but Shadow was too comfortable on Hobie’s chest for him to leave. “No, actually, we can’t. And don’t act like this song isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard.”
“Listen just cause it’s your favorite doesn’t mean it has to be mine, love,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “You’re such an asshole, Hobart.”
“It’s part of my charm,” he says and you fake gag. At the sound, Shadow hops off Hobie and makes his way to you, making sure you’re okay. “Alright, you can leave now. Yayy, Shadow! Wooo!” you say, petting your cat and pretending like you want Hobie to leave. He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I’m not goin’ nowhere. Come here,” he says pulling his guitar from behind the couch and into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“I’m showing you real music. So, sit down, shut up, and soak up the jams.”
You play through the pain, doing the exact thing he did when he first showed you. Albeit not as good as him. But it works, he breaks away from Venom, running, climbing, and webbing as fast as he can to get to you. And seeing the sight of you playing the guitar like that? Especially his favorite song? He could have fainted if he wasn’t worried you’d die immediately after he did. He sees your hand and frowns. “Give me the guitar, love,” he says, taking it out of your hands gently, and picking up where you left off. Except he quickly fades into one of your songs. You smile slightly and look at him. He gives you a small smile back. “Hobie, you have your lighter?” you ask, and he nods. “I’m gonna go down there and convince it to come to the fireworks pile. When I say, throw me your lighter,” you say. “Kick its fuckin’ ass, (Y/n),” he says, as you leap off the top of the stadium.
The four spiders up top suddenly hear a police bullhorn. “We have you surrounded. Hands up or we will resort to using force!”
Hobie turns his guitar up louder.
You web down, purposely aiming to kick Venom closer to the fireworks pile. You hit the ground and roll, landing in a crouch before standing and sprinting to the pile. You scream Hobie’s name, and he throws you his lighter. He stops playing, seeing that it needs to be able to actually move to get to the pile. You web up a story, catching it before rolling back down on the ground. Venom shrieks in its symbiote form, and comes rushing toward you, but you quickly ignite the lighter, throwing it on the pile of fireworks. You leap on top of it, ensuring that Venom will be in the line of fire, and when the first one begins going off as Venom tries desperately to climb it and get to you, you web off it as fast as you can. Hobie watches as you get halfway up before all of the fireworks go off at once.
He hears Venom’s screams, but all he can focus on is watching you as the explosion breaks your web and propels you way higher than you should have gone. He quickly uses his left hand to web a building close by and his right hand to another one and slingshots himself up to you. He catches you in midair, cradling you to his body and webbing to another building. Luckily, Mortician Square Garden was close to the Ember Stake Building, your favorite spot in all of the city. He lands, crouching down and holding you in his arms in a way that your legs are resting on the building. You lean your head against his chest, and he gently places a hand on the side of your face. “Alright, love?” he mumbles, and you give him a small, weak smile. “’m tired, Hobie.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he says, running his thumb back and forth across your cheek. “Bet I looked cool just then, though,” you say, and Hobie chuckles. “Dunno. Think you need to work on your form,” he says, and you laugh softly. “You played my favorite,” you mumble, and he nods. “You played mine.”
“Not very well.”
“I would listen to that every day of my life, love.” You turn your head slightly to see the amount of fireworks lighting up the night sky. Hobie stays looking at you. “Looks pretty,” you mutter, and he grins. “Yeah. Sure does,” he says, ignoring the fireworks completely. “Reckon I get you somewhere safe to rest?” he says, and you nod softly. “I’d like that,” you mumble, turning your head back to him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, not saying anything. He looks up, standing and helping you stand as well. He gently turns you to see your city, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I gotta admit. I do like it here,” he whispers in your ear. You smile softly, looking out at the city from your favorite spot. After getting a good look, you feel your legs about to give out as your eyes flutter closed. He catches you before you fall and is grateful you stopped looking when you did because he starts to see the nothingness begin to claim your world. You hear Hobie very quietly say, “I’ve got you, my love.”
Then everything fades to black.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year
Note
Could you do a Miguel O’Hara x wife!spider reader, when he lost his daughter he lost her too until they meet during the start of spider society, and he’s smitten with her and they have a baby who’s friends with mayday and she calms down Miguel when he starts to get anger at miles and guides miles. Also to see he’s smitten with her and their baby who is Gabriella.
I don’t know if this is what you meant but hopefully it is (:
My Spanish is prolly shitty because I don’t remember junk from Spanish class but I tried 😭 correct me if anything’s wrong cause I only speak fluent English and Hindi
His two sweet girls
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He tried to find an answer for years on how you survived but Gabriella didn’t, coming up with nothing. He was happy you were alive, of course he was. But he wished Gabriella was with you both.
“Miggie, I think we should have another child.”
“What..? What if I can’t protect them? What if they die just like Gabriella?” He said, voice shaking slightly.
You flinched at his voice, trying to calm him down.
“It’ll be good for us. I love and miss her too. Every single day. And don’t you remember how she said she always wanted a baby sister or brother? You can protect them, because it’s not your fault she died.”
He stayed silent for a while. After a lot more talking and thinking, he agreed.
And that was last year, your baby now a year old, and your marriage stronger than ever.
Your daughter was also friends with Peter B Parker’s baby, Mayday. She played with her a lot, and had spider like powers. She liked to climb walls and ceilings with mayday, making it a chore to watch them both.
One day, Miguel started yelling and getting pissed off while you were trying to put the baby to sleep.
“Miggie.” You said, everyone turning to you. Miles looked in confusion.
“Ay, Vuelve al apartamento, mi amor.”
(Go back in the apartment, my love.)
“Es ese el niño de 1610?”
(Is that the kid from 1610?)
“Sí, por favor solo entra. Estaré callado.” He grew aggravated.
(Yes, please just go inside. I’ll be quiet.)
You sighed, walking towards him. He cocked an eyebrow.
“What are you doing?”
“Quit being so hard on him. He’s a kid.” You handed him your guy’s daughter and he sighed as your baby climbed up on his shoulder, then climbed down and went over to Hobie. Hobie picked her up and started playing with her, which made you laugh quietly.
“Look, Miles, you don’t get it. You can destroy your world if you do this.” He continued.
“You just expect me to let my dad die?”
“I lost my dad. And my daughter. We’ve all lost something, but it makes us who we are. Time heals all wounds.” You said.
He stayed silent for a moment.
“You might feel guilt, but you have to understand that that’s just the sacrifice of being who we are. We all lose somebody, and that’s okay. And you may never get over it, but if you save him, your whole world collapses. Your dad dies, your mom, your friends, the people you care about. They all die because you decided to save him.” You continued, and Miguel silently listened to the whole thing.
“Just.. stay here for two days, kid. Then we’ll let you go.” Miguel said.
He stared at the baby hobie was currently throwing in the air and talking to with admiration and love. He loved his two girls, his two sweet girls, and he wasn’t going to lose them again.
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roses-r-rosie3 · 1 year
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Hey soo angst right?
So Miguel x male reader where they have a fight because of miles and miguel just gets really angry and says and or does something that hurts the reader. The reader isn't a spider person but is still important to tge universe. Because of the fight the reader decides to leave because he does want to deal with miguel anymore, and he dicise to just help miles and all
You can end it with fluff or angst, whatever you want :)
Put It Straight
Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader
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[Part 2]
Warnings: angst and swearing
Quote: “This is none of your business! So just go home!”
✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Y/n was one the few non-spider people working at the spider society. He worked as Miguel’s right hand man because Miguel couldn’t stand leaving y/n alone by himself and because they were dating.
It was a “normal” day in the beginning, but Miguel went off to a meeting, while y/n was on his break. But all of a sudden an alarm went off and everyone got an alert to go after Miles. Y/n knew about the kid, Gwen talked about him all the time. Y/n would occasionally tease her about it.
There were hundreds of different variants of Spider-Man chasing Miles, but one stood out from the rest, Miguel. Miguel seemed ruthless, like he wanted to kill the kid, and y/n was concerned. But what made y/n snap was when Miguel sent Gwen back to her universe.
When Miguel turned around, he saw a fuming y/n.
“Miguel what the fuck was that!” Yelled y/n.
Y/n was one of the only people who could yell at Miguel like that. If anyone else dared to talk to Miguel that way, they were bound to either be dead or in the Er.
“Baby, Not now” Miguel Said.
He was clearly frustrated but didn’t want to yell at y/n.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Not now? You just sent the kid home, where her own father is trying to arrest her! And you see nothing wrong with that!” Y/n yelled.
“Y/n you don’t get it” Miguel said.
“I don’t get it!? First you chased Miles throughout the whole city! And now you sent Gwen home where she could possibly be in danger!” Y/n said.
“He wasn’t supposed to even be here! Because of him, the universe could be destroyed! He found out that his dad was going to die! So he tried to prevent that! He could have destroyed the universe! And for Gwen, she is the whole reason why he is even here to begin with! There! You happy?!” Miguel snapped in anger.
“So you’re saying that he is trying to prevent his dad from dying and you’re trying to stop him?!” Y/n yelled with just as much anger.
“It has happened to all of us! And it’s the consequences of his actions! If he hadn’t followed Gwen then all of this wouldn’t have happened!” Miguel yelled.
“So you’re just going to let the kid’s dad die?! Hasn’t he been through enough, he had to watch his uncle die and now you want him to watch his dad die too?!” Y/n said.
“This is none of your business! So just go home!” Miguel said.
“Weren’t you the one begging for me to come here to work with you? And now it’s none of my business!” Y/n said.
“Y/n- watch who you’re talking to like that, don’t think for one second that I won’t-”
“You won’t what Miguel O’Hara?! I tried, I really tried to understand why you acted like this! I’m sorry, but I’m leaving to go help the kid” Y/n said as he walked away.
“And how exactly do you plan on traveling other universes? You don’t even have a watch!” Miguel said.
“With this” y/n held out a watch while still walking.
Miguel immediately looked at his wrist and noticed that his watch was gone, and started to look y/n and realized y/n took his watch as y/n opened a portal.
“Y/n don’t! You could get killed!” Miguel yelled.
Y/n turned to look back at Miguel one last time with tears in his eyes.
“I love you Miguel” y/n said as he walked inside of the portal.
✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Edit]: I'm considering making a part 2 if there is a lot of demand for it
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steddielations · 6 months
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Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.
There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”
One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back. 
Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.
Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.
He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.
Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.
“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”
Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.
“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”
Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.” 
“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. 
“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”
Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too. 
“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.” 
Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.
“Eddie…” 
“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.” 
With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.
“Hey, It’s okay.” 
“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.
Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”
That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort. 
He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.
“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.” 
“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
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The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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