#this wasn't meant to be a vent i'm so sorry

[lazylittledragon]

I've been loving ur mombin comics, but where is the other mom? what trans hottie is not paying her child support out here? (this is said with a lot of love and affection, im very curious abt how she got into that situation, if you have thoughts abt it <3)

ajsjhsdfh i wasn't going to answer this because it's explained in the next comic but kudos to you for being the only person to say 'who's the other mom' instead of 'WHO'S THE DAD'

also the way this is worded made me laugh for like 5 minutes thank you so much xx

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

'I just don't believe in/understand it!' well unfortunately for you I just don't stop existing as an agender person bc you don't believe in it. I'm not fucking tinkerbell.

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.

[daz4i]

anyone else just really really really frustrated, constantly, all the time

[vounoura]

.

[somelazyassartist]

.

[tsundereition]

man it's been... an awful week. if you know about the news of my country... well...

today i drew and edited some memes to destress, i'll try to upload them tomorrow.

btw the con that i went to was fine! i had fun but i was consciously ignoring reality to keep myself grounded. the day before and the day after i just cried endlessly and i've been feeling depressed in general all week.

[heartshapedcigaretteburns]

Ex!Gaz who's still in love with you:/

(Look at my handsome boy💞)

Ex bf! Gaz who never wanted the relationship to end in the first place but you just couldn't handle how little time you got to spend together. He fought tooth and nail to try and make you stay but it wasn't enough. When that doesn't work he tries convincing you to stay friends but you know deep down that wouldn't work out so you reject the idea. 

Ex bf! Gaz who low-key stalks you. I mean is it really stalking if he means well? He just wants to ensure you're doing okay so he keeps tabs on you. Initially, he maintains his distance by checking your social media, but gradually, he starts appearing in the places you frequent, coincidentally running into you at the grocery store or gym more often than usual.

Ex bf! Gaz who worms his way back into your life subtly. Getting more involved with your mutual friends so that they invite him along to outings he knows you'll be at. In every group setting he manages to stay at your side despite how hard you try to get rid of him.

Ex bf! Gaz who is ecstatic when you warm up to the idea of remaining friends but he doesn't stop there. He's desperate to make you see that you're meant to be with him. He firmly believes that he was destined to marry you and grow old with you and he just doesn't understand why you can't accept that. In his eyes, you are his fate, his ultimate destiny.

Ex bf! Gaz who can't cope when you start going on dates with other people. Nobody else is deserving of you. You're meant to be going on dates with him, holding his hand, smiling at him. In his mind, no one else can treat you the way he can.  Sooooo naturally he resorts to sabotaging your love life. He'll find a way to make every new potential partner suddenly change their mind about dating you. And when you get stood up for the third time, he's there to hold you and comfort you, offering solace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were convinced that this new guy actually felt something for you. Things were going great - you had been on a few dates and really hit it off. It wasn't anything like what you and Kyle had but it was a step in the right direction. 

However, everything changed when he stood you up at the restaurant, leaving you waiting for 40 minutes without responding to your numerous texts. Finally, he replies, but the message crushes you.

"Sorry, I'm not coming tonight. I don't think this is going to work out."

Your entire body crumbles inward and you shrink into the booth as you process those words. You desperately tried to text back and ask what went wrong, but he had already blocked you. What a dick.

You apologize to the staff for the inconvenience, collect your belongings, and start walking home. As you left the fancy establishment, hot tears streamed down your face. It didn't take long for a familiar car to slow down beside you. 

“Why are you walking alone so late, love? C’mon, hop in.” Kyle spoke with a caring tone that both comforted and hurt you.

As much as you wish he wasn't so comforting, you find solace in his presence. You felt disappointed, frustrated, humiliated, and above all, unlovable. It's only natural you fall into his reassuring company.

You allow yourself to get into his car and let him drive you home while you sob pathetically and pour your little heart out. You're not even certain he can understand you with the intense blubbering you're doing but he can, he always can. He listens to you vent to him, gently rubbing your exposed thigh until you get it all out.

“God am I just not desirable enough? It seems like nobody wants me." You cried softly, your voice hoarse. 

He pulls into the driveway of what used to be your shared house.

“You're incredibly desirable, lovie. Anyone would be lucky to have you, he's just an idiot. He doesn't deserve you anyways." Kyle reassures you as he guides you inside to show you just how desirable you truly are. 

Okay this idea I've been toying with in my brain a lot lately and I think I executed it pretty well but let me know what you guys think. Hope you enjoyed! Ignore spelling and grammar errors though 😽😽😽

[curlyfries967-blog]

Vamos A Bailar

Word Count 10.0+

WARNING NSFW THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SMUT.

FemaleReader, BreedingKink, BDSM, Shibari, RopePlay, Blindfolds, Edging, Facefucking, Primal Play, PraiseKink, Toys. If it's not your cup of tea then please find something else to read.

Plot: you haven't seen Miguel in a month and a half because he's been busy with work. But tonight is your date night together at a Salsa Social and he's going to make it up to you.

Light chatter and upbeat passionate music fills the air as you enter the large dance hall room. Your new heels gently click on the marble floor as you navigate about. Your black dress flowed with ease as it danced around your thighs just above your knees. Your kind gentle eyes search the crowded hall for your missing partner. The one who swore to you that he would be here on time tonight. You have not seen him in almost an entire month. Maybe you wouldn't see him tonight. A disappointed click escapes from your mouth and tongue, realizing that he wasn't here at all. Your shoulders slump disheartened looking down at your watch. Miguel was late to your date night. He gave his word that he would be there for you. 

The man was always late to everything. He never meant to be a disappointment, but he’s so focused on his work that sometimes he doesn’t even realize what time it is. 

He does always make it, though. He’s reliable that way. 

You see a familiar tall, muscular man with dark brown eyes and curly dark hair. His large figure made him stand out from the crowd around the two of you. He's wearing a black button up along with charcoal gray ripped jeans. When he spots you he smiles and walks up to you. His biceps bulge effortlessly as they hold up two glasses of wine in his possession. 

"I'm sorry I'm late," he apologized quickly, leaning in, placing a kiss on your cheek. He handed you a glass of wine. Making up for his lateness with some sweetness. 

"What happened to being on time?" You asked, feeling crossed with him. 

"Hobie happened," he groans in disdain, rubbing the bridge of his nose,  before taking a sip from his glass. 

"Oh?" You laughed while drinking from your glass. You knew the teenager enjoys giving Miguel a run for his money. But as long as you knew Hobie, he was always respectful and kind towards you. But whenever Miguel had his moments of ranting or venting about him. You could have sworn he was describing another person or talking about somebody else completely different from the Hobie you knew. 

"What did he do this time?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, placing a hand on your hip and turning towards him. 

"He messed up the inventory again," he replied, shaking his head and letting out a big sigh. "I swear that boy lacks basic skills." 

You couldn't help but laugh at his rant, knowing how much Hobie's actions bothered him. But despite his complaints, there was a warmth to his attitude towards his younger coworker, and you knew that the two of them had a special connection despite their differences.

"Work is like a daycare. It's like trying to manage a bunch of kids and it's damn near impossible." He's beginning to get worked up and catches himself before it ruins his evening.

He changes the topic not wanting to talk about the frustrating teenager nor his job, "You look absolutely stunning, Cariña," he successfully distracts you with a compliment and his rare mesmerizing smile. His dark brown eyes soak up your beauty. Your hair was in a braided bun, lips were ruby and enticing to look at. His eyes lingered longer looking at your welcoming full lips. 

Flustered by his kind words, you can't help but smile back. You had always been conscious of your looks but his attention made your confidence skyrocket like never before. You can't help but look around, seeing if anyone was watching, though a part of you didn't care. There was something in his eyes, in the way he was staring at your lips. Feeling your heartbeat accelerating, you took a drink of your wine, hoping to ease your nerves. As you swallow, you felt a pair of strong hands slide along your sides, causing butterflies in your tummy.

"You're not so bad yourself," you gestured to his clothes with your free hand. 

"I really didn't think ripped jeans would look good on me," he confessed, giving you a slow threesixty of his outfit that you had laid out for him on the bed, "You have good taste." Absolutely, the clothes you picked highlighted his assets. If you left it up to him; he would have dressed as comfortably as possible in sweats and a hoodie. Not that you had an issue with his outfit choices, but tonight was Salsa night and he promised you a romantic evening together. 

"You'd look good in anything," you said coyly. You had picked out a pair of clothes for him, and you were right: they did compliment his physique. His arms bulged as he waved around his glass of wine, causing him to flex his biceps. He even looked handsome in ripped jeans. What can't this man get away with? He was charming, kind, and incredibly sexy. How did you get so lucky?

"Why thank you, gorgeous," he responded, turning to you with a grin, his eyes twinkling from your compliment. His confident smirk was enough to make you want to bite that cocky bottom lip, but you didn't let yourself go out of control. As your gaze traveled down his body, you saw how those ripped jeans accentuated his muscular frame, making your heart sink a little. How was he so ripped and so attractive at the same time? He was the ultimate tease and you just couldn't get enough. 

Letting out a long breath, you took a sip from your wine, feeling your thoughts wander. This night was promising to be a good one and you were looking forward to a bit more than salsa.

A guitarist on stage played with passion, his fingers moving deftly over the strings as the singer's voice soared above the music. Emotion of the music washes over both your bodies. The couples that were there on the dance floor, spun and moved around each other. The sounds of trumpets filled the room, along with a cowbell, other chorus of instruments that the Banda played. He listens to the beautiful music as he then wraps his arm around your waist as he starts to move to the beat of the music.

You lean against him as he guides both of you towards the dance floor. As the music takes over you, feeling his body rhythmically rocking against yours, you feel yourself giving in to the passion of it all. Dancing like nobody's watching, you let yourself enjoy the moment, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist and your smile stretched across your face. You were in your element and you didn't care if people were staring. This was your night and you were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

You love it when Miguel dances with you. Not that he's a professional at it, but there's something about holding him close that makes you weak in the knees. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Tonight is perfect, and you feel a little better about Miguel being late. You're lucky to have a boyfriend like him.

"I love the music here," He says as he then pulls you closer to his side while still moving to the beat of the music.

"I do too," you replied, turning slightly towards him and placing a kiss on his chiseled cheek. "It just screams romance, doesn't it?" You raised your glass in a toast, and he clinked his own against it, his fingers lingering in yours. "To a perfect night," you said, before taking another sip. 

Feeling his warm breath on your cheek, you couldn't help but smile. This was the kind of evening that made you feel alive inside. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company, it almost felt out of this world…

"Let's dance," he takes you out to further into the dance floor. 

"You lead, love," you say, allowing him to take charge. Miguel is much more of an extrovert than you are, and he loves being the center of attention. You have no problem letting him take the lead, and he happily obliges. He takes you out on to the dance floor, and soon you're swept up in his arms. You dance together for hours, losing track of time and the rest of the world. Your mind is only occupied by Miguel and the way he makes you feel.

You're his yang to his yin when you two danced together. He steps towards and you mirrored him opposite. And vice versa as you step towards him, smiling up at him. He held your right arm up with your left hand and gently made you twirl on the floor. He loves to show you off in front of jealous eyes. He tugs you towards his body. His large hand resting on the small of your bare back, his touch sent goosebumps running down your spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, giving you such a devilish sultry smile. A nervous giggle escapes your lips, "Miguel!"

"Tu querias a bailar." He snickers, drawing you closer. You were so close to him now that it was impossible not to blush at each touch. You were still a little nervous around Miguel; but he made you feel safe, and that's what mattered. You felt yourself relaxing in his care, and your smile grew. 

"I love you, Miguel," you said, looking into his eyes. You meant it, every word. You had never loved someone as much as you loved Miguel.

"I love you, too," he replied, pulling you in for a kiss. 

His large body towers over you and he ever so slowly kisses you. Your head felt fuzzy, you weren't sure if it's the wine or  if it was the effect he had on you. The kiss made you stumble in your sparkly high heels, causing you to accidentally roll awkwardly on your ankle and step on his toe. Mortified, you gasp. You were so embarrassed that you wanted to curl up and die. 

"Are you okay, Amor?' Miguel asked, he caught your arm just in time preventing you from falling. He kissed you on the forehead, and you could feel your cheeks glowing red from his affection. He made you feel comforted, even when you felt like a total fool.

"I'm sorry, Love" you mumbled looking down at your heels while the music came to a steady halt, "Did you still want to dance?" The back of your heel stung a bite but you ignored it, you're only focused on the man before you. 

"Always. Let's keep dancing," he replied, taking your hand into his and leading you back onto the dance floor. You were still embarrassed, but you knew that Miguel had already forgiven you and forgotten your clumsiness.

The music was at a lively tempo and the crowd on the dancefloor moved faster. Leads turned and twisted their followers to the rhythm of the beat. Miguel was experienced, he held both your small hands in both of his large ones. He guided you and spun you around. Loving the way you dance  and move about your body. There was nothing else like dancing with Miguel. It didn't matter what moves you did or how you did them; as long as you had his large hands as your guide, you knew you'd be okay. You trusted him above anyone else and knew he'd take care of you. He always did.You turned and twisted and twirled, following his lead. He was like a magnet, making you feel at home in his arms. This was where you belonged, and you were never going to let him go.

A tap on the shoulder from a gentleman on the floor catches Miguel off guard.

"Can I dance with her, next?" He inquired peering at you.

You weren't thrilled by this other guy tapping Miguel on the shoulder and asking to dance with you. Your boyfriend seemed a little taken aback by the man's question, too. In your opinion, Miguel was the only one allowed to touch you, let alone dance with you.

He shoots the man a look of annoyance, even though it wasn't the man's fault at all, but the simple fact that he has to share this woman with *someone* is enough to cause him some degree of annoyance, however brief it may be. 

"Sorry, she's taken," he says simply, almost sounding a little possessive. 

"Thanks anyway," he adds quickly as if to soften the blow, just so he doesn't give the poor man the wrong idea about them.

The man gives in and Miguel whisks you away to the sound of music. "My sweet," you said, "My feet are a little sore. Can I sit down for a bit?" You bat your long lashes at him. Truth be told, your new high heels are killing you. And to break them in on the dancefloor was a completely dumb choice on your part. 

"Of course, love," Miguel said, nodding. "Let's sit down and get some ice water or something." He led you off the dance floor and into the seating area, where he ordered drinks for the two of you. He sat you down in a chair, making sure you were comfortable, and then sat down next to you. He put his arm around your shoulders protectively, and you were safe in his embrace. 

"Are you alright?" He asked, worried. His brows furrowed scanning your face. You seemed in pain, and he was anxious to help you.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, "Yes, Love" A waiter dropped off your drinks at the table for the two of you. Miguel drinks a dark amber liquid from a short and stout glass. You had another tall glass of wine. You moved your feet to get a better look at your sore heel. You noticed a red, burning, sore forming right at the back of where your heel strap was touching. You figured it was from the constant friction of the strap digging into your skin. 

"Do you want me to take a look at your feet?" Miguel asked, putting down his glass. He looked concerned as he looked at your heel strap, his brow furrowing deeper. He seemed worried about you, and as always, you could feel his kindness radiating through you. Even if he acted indifferent around the others; he would always let his guard down around you. 

"No,no, " you waved it off trying to downplay the discomfort, "I'm going to take a small break from dancing." You didn't want him to worry about you.  You didn't want to ruin salsa night. However, your feet were killing you and aching terribly. 

"Are you sure?" Miguel asked, looking at you sympathetically with soft chocolate eyes. He didn't want you walking around with pain in your feet. If going home earlier meant you didn't have to deal with that, then it was worth it. He put down his glass of whiskey, and his hand was still on your shoulder. 

"I'll drive us home," he stated firmly, not wanting to hear you protest. There was no point in arguing with him once he's concerned about your well-being. 

You stand wobbling unsteadily on your feet. You were unsure if it was the wine or exhaustion overcoming you. "Miguel, would you please be a dear-" you wince from placing too much weight on one of your feet. "Ouch!" You cried softly. 

"Let me get you out of those shoes," Miguel said quickly, kneeling down and unstrapping your heels. As he took off your shoes, he carefully inspected the redness forming on your heels. "Dios mio," he sighed grimly. "You can hardly walk. Let me help you." 

He picked you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you out of the club.

Your face burns a bright beet red as onlookers watch him carry you out. "This is embarrassing," you mumbled, burying your face into the crook of his neck, refusing to look at any more people. His cologne was pleasant and soothing. You inhaled slowly through your nose and exhaled out, not aware that your breath brushed just under his earlobe. 

Miguel chuckled softly, but he didn't disagree with you. Your lover just kept walking. He didn't care if other people were watching him. All that mattered right now was that he made sure his girlfriend (you) were safe and comfortable. He brought you to his car and opened the door for you, helping you get inside before walking around the front. After climbing in himself, he started the car and carefully backed out of his parking space.

He looked into your eyes as he drove, smiling warmly. "Almost home, love," he comforted you.

You loved to watch him drive. His corded muscles showing off as he navigates the steering wheel. His brown eyes focused on the road.  His right hand rested on your thigh giving you reassuring strokes with his thumb. You squirm rubbing your thighs together. Goodness, you couldn't collect yourself to save your life. You felt a familiar ache form. A sense of neediness.

"M-Miggles-" you mumbled softly, "How much longer till we get home?"

You gripped both of your hands on top of his hand which rested on your thigh, squeezing in hopes that he would get the message. Your stomach slowly filled with butterflies as you imagined what else he could be doing with his hand. 

Miguel quickly glanced at you then returned his gaze on the road, and he could read your thoughts just by the look on your face. He knew exactly what you wanted him to do, so he gave you even more than what you were expecting. He squeezed your thigh in the way he knew you liked it, and his fingers brushed against your skin. You could feel a tingle running through you, and you grew hotter with every passing second. 

"Home's just five minutes down the road, Hermosa," he chuckled. He smelled your excitement. And knew you were getting hot and bothered. He shifted in his seat a little bit to relieve his forming hard-on. 

"Five minutes?" You grumbled pouting, "I don't think I can wait that long." You traced your fingers tantalizingly up and down his forearm. He was built. Absolutely strong. You admired his muscles.  Your fingers moving up and down and further up to his biceps. 

"I can make it two minutes, if you prefer," Miguel said playfully. You were teasing him by tracing your fingers over his arm, and he loved it. He felt his heart beating faster the more your fingers grazed over his muscles. He drove a little faster than usual, and it wasn't long before you got closer and closer to his house. 

When he pulled into the driveway, he turned to you. "We're here," he said.

Eagerly you wrapped your arms around his right arm and pulled him towards you. Your lips finally meet. It was hot, sincere, and needy. 

He pulled you close, loving how eagerly you kissed him. You were both in need of this, and it felt so good to finally be in each other's arms again after not being around each other a whole month.

"I love you so much, Cariña," he whispered into your ear. "I never want to go anywhere without you." There was a lot of truth in his words. You were his world, and he never wanted to be apart from you. He hated being away from you. 

When you broke apart, he rested his lips on your cheek. It was a soft kiss, filled with love and affection.

"I love you, more." You giggled as he pulled you closer. Your elbow accidently hit the volume button unmuting the radio. Loud music blared throughout the vehicle startling you both. A fit of laughter escapes from Miguel as he quickly turns off the radio. 

Miguel laughed with you, and soon the pair of you couldn't stop giggling. It was the little things that made you laugh with each other, and you both loved that. 

"Shall we go in?" The handsome man asks after a few more minutes of laughter. He looks at you, giving you a playful wink. Even through all the laughter, he still looks dashing, you thought to yourself. How was he so good-looking?

"Only if you take me to bed," you quipped playfully. You couldn't take your eyes off him only because everything felt like a dream. You didn't want to take your eyes off him. If you blinked you were scared he would disappear. 

"I'll take you in bed while I'm at it," Miguel teased, his eyebrows raising suggestively. Your eyes were already glued to him, and his question only amplified your attraction to him. He laughed at your reaction to his words, and you could hear a little excitement in his voice. He knew that those words would get a reaction from you, and he wanted you to say yes.

"Absolutely, my sweet," you chimed. He gets out of the car and makes his way over to your side of the door. The tall Hispanic mixed man opens it, taking your hand and pulling you up to him. In a blink of an eye he throws you over his shoulder. You squeal, laughing dangling over him. His hands securely warped behind your thighs; careful to make sure you don't slip from his grip. It's some miracle he's not out of breath. He made you feel weightless. It was a strange feeling, but it was also exhilarating. And with his hands wrapped around your thighs, you knew you were safe in his arms.

"Miguel, you're so strong," you said with admiration thinking about how easily he could spin you around on the dancefloor or carry you anywhere he wanted. Impulsively you smack his bottom as you face his back upside down. It's only fair if he could carry you like that. You had the privilege to smack his toned glutes. So firm. You burst into another fit of laughter as you felt the blood flow to your head. 

"Did you just smack my ass?" He was perplexed and annoyed by your sudden impulsivity. The muscular guy was still able to walk and navigate the walkway to his driveway, but he was laughing so hard at your reaction that his face was a bright red. The keys jingle in his hand as he unlocks the door. 

"It was right in my face," you lilt. "Again those gray jeans do you so much Justice." He shrugs his broad shoulders and nods agreeing with you. He guided you to the bedroom. 

You're a little dizzy as he led you to the master bedroom where it was far more intimate. He gently closed the door behind the two of you. You could feel that he wanted you, and you wanted him just as badly.

"Ready for tonight?" He throws you over on the mattress. 

"Oof-" you plop on the Bedding and he manages to dishevel your hair from throwing you there. 

Smiling and teasing you move away from him by crawling off the bed, "What's gonna happen tonight?" You played dumb.

You waltz to the other side of the bedroom, away from your loving partner, undressing yourself without a care in the world. Your dress dropped pooling around your feet. Your hands reach up into your hair and unleash the braided bun it was in. You were bare. You felt his eyes follow your every move.

He swallows thickly "Oh, you already know..." He grinned at your teasing tone of voice, finding himself becoming more and more excited as you undressed in front of him. He could clearly see how much effort you had put into your hair, and he loved it. 

"Are you trying to get a raise out of me?" Miguel said softly, a lilt in his voice. "Because it's working."

His eyes were locked onto you, and he hadn't looked away since you began to take off your dress.

"Is it working?" you quizzically pondered, You exposed yourself to him, just for a moment in panties and all. Making sure your back was arched just right.

"Oh, definitely." Miguel's voice was husky and low. "It's definitely working. I don't think I've ever seen you look so beautiful," he continued. 

And you looked absolutely stunning. Everything about you was perfect, and this was the first time in a while Miguel had seen you like this. He was always cooped up at work, working with the other spider people.  He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and his hands were shaking with anticipation. He had never felt so excited before.

"Hmm…" you drawled amused, "I wonder if I should just go to sleep, already? It is past our bedtime."

"In your underwear?" Miguel replied with a smirk. "I think you know that's a bad idea." He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorway, grinning cheekily at you.

"What do you suggest I should do, sir?"

He loved the way you addressed him. He felt something tingle inside of him. He slowly licked his bottom lip, his tan fingers raked through his dark curly hair. His brown ravenous eyes carefully regarding you. He knows the woman before him is pushing for a chase; a little game of cat and mouse. He might give in just a little bit.

"I suggest you undress all the way and come back," Miguel said with a satisfied grin. "Or I could just come over there and make you do what I want."

He was teasing again, but it wasn't without a little bit of truth to it. Miguel was more than happy to make you do what he wanted; he just wanted to know whether or not your intentions were to play hard to get, or if you really were going to get changed before sleeping. 

That's Exactly what you wanted to hear, "Make me then,"  you  challenged him. Miguel was only too happy to oblige. Before you could even blink, he had caught you in a firm grasp. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, while his other hand gently caressed your neck. His forehead gently touched yours as he looked into your eyes; they were like the sun, warm and radiant.

"You really wanna play hard to get?" Miguel said, a smirk spread across his lips. His voice was low and raspy, and you could see that he couldn't wait to play along with you.

"Absolutely..." You said squirming away from his laxed grip. You managed to escape from his hold, and dart across the bedroom attempting to get away from the superhuman you have as a boyfriend.

"Are you really doing this?" Miguel said annoyed as he caught up to you.

This time, he pinned you against the wall as he leaned into you. "You have nowhere to go," he whispered into your ear. His tone was suggestive but not too revealing, and his hand still caressed your neck as he leaned in to you.

"I guess not, huh?" Your eyes flutter relishing in the fact that you felt his full weight pressed against you. His chest pressed up against your bare soft mounds. You reached out and cupped his jawline ever so tenderly admiring him. You loved to touch his stubbles. His full lips were just centimeters away from yours. You felt his hot breath brush over your cheeks, nose, and lips. Miguel didn't let you speak. When you reached up to his face, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips pressed against yours, and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. It was deep and soft, yet there was a spark behind it that let you know how eager Miguel was.

Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist, and he pulled you in even closer to him. One of his hands went to the small of your back, and you felt a tingle run down your spine. His kiss became firmer as the moment went on, and he became more and more eager.He leans down, pressing his warm lips against yours again. His tongue slips past your teeth, exploring the wetness of your mouth. He tastes your sweet nectar, savouring the flavor. He moaned into the kiss, his hands moving to your hips as they grind together. You push your hands into his hair, holding him close as you press your bodies together. You could feel your nipples hardening, and you could practically taste the need between both of you. Your dainty arms snake around his big shoulders and neck.

"I want you," you  breathlessly murmured against his now bruised lips, "Please, please, please…"

"What do you want me to do, Cariña?" Miguel asked as he broke away from you for a moment and stared into your eyes.

His eyes were full of love, longing, desire, and passion as he stared into you. When he kissed you again, there was so much longing that it was overwhelming. You had never been kissed with this kind of love, and it felt incredible. 

Miguel was experienced in rigging up ties. It came along with his superhero responsibilities since he developed spinnerets in his arms. He sat back a little bit rubbing his fingers along his stubbles lost in thought. And wondered what kind of ties would suit the woman before him. Knowing you well now he knows you loved to be chased and tied down. You loved surrendering yourself to him. Granting him permission to anything to your body, as long as you were safe and comfortable with it.

"What are you waiting fo-" you blurt out loud pulling Miguel out from his train of thoughts. He stuck his fingers in your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. Dark brown eyes were looking down at you, "How are you so pretty and impatient?" His gaze darkens admiring how well you suck his fingers down.  He chuckled at the way you looked at him in disbelief when your sentences were interrupted.

"I'm just thinking," Miguel said with a smug smirk and paused for a moment before adding, "I have an idea for us now."

Your boyfriend is right. You were a gorgeous woman, but sometimes you could get a little impatient. You couldn't help it though it's because you missed him terribly. You couldn't help but blush as he complimented you about your beauty and your impatience. It felt as though you were always impatient when it came to him; he simply ignited a primal drive in you that you could never ignore.

He withdraws his fingers reluctantly from your mouth. "Oh, yeah?" you said with a grin. "What exactly were you thinking about? You definitely have me curious." You had an inkling of suspicion you knew what he had in mind; you could see it in his eyes.

"Stay." He orders you.

And you happily obliged laying back in bed stretching out your body as he shifted his weight off of you. He stalks towards the toy box that was at the foot of the bed. And retrieves some special toys in his possession. You stayed where you were, looking up at him as he retrieved the toys. You were curious as to what he was planning, but you couldn't help but keep your eyes on him as he walked to the toy box. His strong body was on full display, and no matter how many times you saw him, there was always something about his body that you couldn't help but stare at.

"Should I be scared?" You teased with a grin.

Miguel couldn't help but start chuckling as he looked at you. He looked down at you, amused by your comment. "Only a little," he chuckled, looking down at you with a grin. "Or maybe a lot." He gave you a kiss on the forehead, and he looked down at you as he gently grabbed your shoulders.

"I'm only kidding," he said with a smirk. "I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to." He was always trying to take care of you, and he always wanted you to feel safe and protected.

You couldn't help but laugh at this. "Am I allowed to move now? Or do I have to be a good girl and stay put?" You teased, your eyebrows raising. You could see something in his eyes, and he definitely had something planned for you. You hadn't had this much fun in a while, and you couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

"Ven aquí," he motioned you to move to the edge of the bed with a finger curling in his direction. You bite your bottom lip sitting up immediately and scoot to him. Your bare legs dangling off the bed as you stay up looking up at his big clothed body with Doe eyes. "Good Girl," he praised. In his possession he had a black silk blind fold. Your heart pounding loudly against your ribcage, as you watched him lazily roll up his sleeves. You watched a sin unfold before you. He could hear it. The anticipation and discomfort he was causing poor little you. With his super hearing he smirked at the increased heart rate he caused you. He reached over your shoulders, his breath deliciously near your ear you squirmed, rubbing your legs together. He inhaled slowly through his nose, your scent tainting his senses. The man standing before has you absolutely riled up.

"We're going with the Traffic Light system," he promoted you, "Green means?" 

"Good," You chimed in a little too quickly, "Yellow means easy. And Red is Stop." You blurted out the rest ready to get to the best part- him fucking you.

His chest rumbles as he chuckles, "Good Girl." He ties the fabric over your eyes, taking away your vision. You had to rely and solely depend on him. 

He pointed his spinnerets at you and craftily tied you up in his crimson red web. You felt constricted and secured. The red web wrapped around your shoulders and bare chest, forming a star. And along and between your thighs he weaved and wrapped the silk web several times, where it stopped up just above your belly button and wrapped around the small of your back. You felt the web gently tug into your skin as you wiggled. "The more you move the tighter it gets" he reminds you, "Behave yourself." The rope also becomes loose if he tugs and twists it a certain way. 

He tied you up so effortlessly, just like Spider-Man would do with his foes. You sat there, all tied up, your blindfold on, unable to see what he was doing. It was a rather unique experience; all you could do was sit there and let him do whatever he had planned for you.

"I'll be a good girl," you said as he finished tying you up. You were happy to play along with this little game, and you couldn't wait to see what he would do to you next.

"Excelente," he mused regarding his masterpiece with half hooded lust filled eyes. You felt him shove you back by the shoulders, and you flop back, your hair cascading around you on the linens. A nervous giggle escapes from your lips. 

Miguel was so good at this. He used his powers to tie you up, and now you were completely vulnerable. You were still so attracted to him, even after all the times he had wrapped you up like this.

"You enjoy tying me up don't you?" You couldn't help but chuckle. You loved it when he dominated you in many different ways,  and you wanted him to keep going. You looked forward to whatever he had planned next, and you would happily let him have the reigns.

"You look beautiful," you heard him say.

Your boyfriend had a way with his words. "Oh, thank you..." you said softly as you heard him give you that compliment. It always meant a lot coming from him, and you could tell he meant it when he said it. You both knew how much he meant it when he complimented you, and you loved him for being so genuine about it.

You could already feel those lustful feelings boiling over, and you knew he had something special in mind.

He reached over and grabbed a large white Wand. He kept it out of sight from you purposely when he received the blindfold. You hear an audible click followed by a buzz coming to life. 

You could feel goosebumps slowly rise up on your skin as you heard the click and the buzz, and you weren't quite sure what exactly was going on. You couldn't help but notice a little bit of fear mingling within your excitement. What was he going to do to you? You couldn't wait to find out; you were eager to see what he had planned.

He tactfully places the vibrating wand on the outside of your thigh. You jerked from the sensation. "Gah!" You gasp wiggling away feeling the web grow snugger on your skin. You were quick to stop the movement, stilling yourself. 

Miguel laughed at your quick reaction as you were distracted by the wand. He was surprised by how quickly you caught on to what he was doing, and he was impressed at your ability to follow his direction. You were definitely doing well so far.

"I'm very impressed," he said, smirking a little bit as he saw how well you were able to do as he directed. "You seem to be handling everything very well."

Lazily he glides the wand up and over your perky mounds. The web tied around your torso made them look more pronounced. You breath hitches and a small delicious whimper escapes your lips. 

"Oh?" Miguel was surprised by the sound you made as he dragged the wand all over your body. He continued to drag it around, making the webbing tight every time he did. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable, and you could feel every inch of your skin feeling it.

"How are you doing?" he asked, smirking at the sound you made. It wasn't a good sign, but he enjoyed your reaction as he tormented you.

"I'm great," you huffed trying to resist the urge to pull your bud away from his torturous touch. 

"Oh," he said playfully. "I doubt that you mean it." He knew you were enjoying his torment, of course, and he was happy to be able to have this much power over you. He couldn't help but smile with a chuckle as he continued his little torture session, loving every second of it.

It accidentally drifted over your core. Miguel watched amused.

Miguel laughed. "Where did it move off to?" He was trying to tease you. He had been teasing you all along, but this was the first time he had teased you in a way that could be interpreted as a threat. He was glad that he had found this new way to torment you, and he was looking forward to watching your reaction.

Miguel was trying to make you break, but would you finally have the strength to do it? Or would you give into the pleasure?He managed to elicit several pretty noises from your mouth. The wand rested near your slit. "Miguel-" you plead desperately, withering away. Your face contorted in pleasure 

Miguel leaned into you. He couldn't help but chuckle at you as he looked at you as you pleaded with him. He leaned in even closer and whispered into your ear, "What is it, Amor? Is something wrong?" He looked at your quivering body.

"I'm going to cum" you cried out to him, "Can't do this." 

Miguel's eyes lit up, and he felt an air of excitement building within him. "Oh, are you sure?" he whispered. "It looks like you were having so much fun..." He smirked, giving you one last taunt. He was so close to finally getting a reaction from you.

You heard a loud click just between your legs. And all hell broke loose. The buzz grew louder and was stronger. Much stronger. Your back arched up feeling the web press tighter into your skin. 

Miguel smirked as he watched your reaction. "Having fun, yet?" He watched you fight through the pain and the pleasure, and he loved seeing you react this way. He couldn't help but laugh as the tension between you two built and built. 

"I think you should just give in," he said softly.

"But you're going to punish me," you wailed, breathing harder with every moment that passed. You don't have to see him to know he had a condescending shit eating grin on his face. You could hear it in his voice as he coaxed you to give in. It was a trap and you knew better. Your body kept tensing up, you carefully try to move your body in a way that didn't trigger the webs to constrict you. Miguel noticed and pressed just a little bit harder on to your core.

Miguel couldn't help but smirk; he was loving the way you were reacting to his little punishment. He enjoyed tormenting you, and he could tell that you were getting a kick out of it. Even if it hurt a little, you were clearly having fun.

"Oh?" he said, taunting you. "Are you scared now?" he laughed. "I can be much worse if I wanted to. Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes, please" 

Miguel smirked. "Oh, is that so?" he asked. He continued to drag the wand all over, enjoying the reaction he was getting from you. Every time you squirmed, he knew he had found something that worked. He would give you a little more of it, enjoying your reaction as the web tightened around you and the wand continued to tease you.

"Is this better?" he asked. "Or should I give you a little more?"

Your tears pricked the corner of your eyes darkening your blindfold. You felt a small lump form in the back of your throat feeling it get tight. Maybe you shouldn't have begged for more. The handsome devil who taunts you watched in amusement. Miguel knew if you didn't want this you would have said a color by now. He leaned over your tied up beautiful body. His dark chocolate eyes devour the carnal sight. The web tightens in just the right spots. You didn't hear it but you definitely felt it. The wand abruptly stops its little sadistic ministrations gone.  His calloused rough palms caresses your quivering body, his fingers tracing along the web. He made sure it didn't cut off your blood circulation. You jumped at his sudden tender touch. 

"Better?" he asked. "How are you feeling?" Miguel was getting some sort of pleasure out of watching your reaction, and he couldn't help but smile at you once he stopped. He continued to run his hands over you, his fingers moving softly along the web. He leaned in, as his lips brushed against your ear and he whispered into it, "I love watching you struggle."

Miguel was happy that he had managed to push you this far; you were so easy to torment. He loved having this much power over you, and he loved using it to test every limit you had. He knew that he had pushed you to your limit, and he was curious to see whether or not you would reach it.

Your body trembled slightly as he touched you, and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a few moans. You weren't quite sure why you were reacting this way, but you knew that you were enjoying it. You were happy to play whatever games Miguel wanted you to, and you could already feel yourself getting wetter.

"I want to make you feel good," you confessed, feeling guilty that he was tending to your desires. You hadn't done anything to show him your love and appreciation. You strained your ears to hear him, the echoes of the wand still lingered in your eardrums. "Hermosa," His rough fingers curled around your chin holding you in place. Even though your vision was robbed from you; you certainly felt his gaze on you. And you were right Miguel's breath brushed over your lips his eyes fixated on 

"I love it when you call me that," you admitted, your voice breaking a little bit. He could tell you were trying to stay strong, but he could also tell that you were close to breaking. Was that his goal this whole time? To push you just close enough to break you? You would definitely learn a lot about yourself if your boyfriend managed to get you to scream for mercy again.

As Miguel held onto your chin, you could hear his voice come close to your ears. "What do you think you deserve, my love?" he whispered.

"I deserve you." You whisper back so quietly you were unsure if he heard you. Your body shook in waves sending small tremors to your hands and feet. 

"Oh, do you now?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement as he held your chin. "Do you think you truly deserve me?" Miguel was going to make you earn his affection, and he was looking forward to the challenge. He was certain that you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together much longer.

He couldn't help but smile as he spoke, knowing exactly what it meant to you. He enjoyed knowing how much power he had over you. "How would you prove it?" he whispered.

"I want you in my mouth," you sobbed tears begin to stain the blindfold, "I want you to feel good too, Miguel."  

Miguel smirked. It was clear that you were close to breaking, and he couldn't help but continue to push you further. He was enjoying himself, and he couldn't help it. It was almost as if he couldn't help himself from tormenting you in this way. Miguel was loving every second of this.

You begged for him, and he laughed in excitement. He looked forward to punishing you in more ways to get you to beg for him. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, his smugness obvious.

"I guess it can't be helped," he sighed. You felt the bed shift and he was no longer near you. The sound of jingling metal could be heard. The bronze being slowly removed his belt and along with his jeans. His package stood up loud and proud, clearly triggered by your pleas. He then rid himself of the black button up by tossing it away. He stalked back to you a little disappointed you couldn't admire his body but that was fine. He tossed his brown locks back with his fingers and crawled back to you. His tawny lips trailed from your toe to your heels. Apologetically kissing the sore that formed from dancing earlier tonight. He worked his way up to your ankle and shin reaching your knee. He nipped at your plump thighs, careful not to puncture you with his fangs. You felt blissful. 

As Miguel leaned in, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure. His touch was so delicate, and he seemed so concerned with you. You could feel every part of yourself begin to relax, and you could feel every inch of yourself come alive with pleasure. It was a stark contrast to the pain you had felt just a moment ago. You were so happy that he was touching you.

Miguel was surprised that you were already falling for him again, but he didn't hold it against you. He continued to move up your body, taking his time and being as careful as possible. 

Ever so slowly he worked his way up to your breasts. Admiring how you melted under him. He kissed your puffy sensitive mounds. His full lips tantalizingly traced up from your collarbone to the crease of your neck. He fingers tweak at your peaks earning more pretty noises from you.

"Hermosa, a donde mi quieres?" He huskily groaned in your ear.

"M-my mouth," you meekly answer.

Pleased and satisfied with your answer, he crawled up your body, both knees rested on both sides of your head caging you in. He placed your arms above your head and shifted enough to pin them down with his knees. He grabbed his gifted package with its crimson, angry, big tip. He traced it around your lips. Precum coating your mouth like lipgloss.

"Are you going to suck me off like a good cumslut?" He coos cruelly to you. 

"Yes, Sir," you part your lips, your tongue out desperately waiting for him to stuff your mouth full.

A low groan escapes from him. "Open your fucking throat," he hissed. He forced his heavy cock all the way to the back of your hot warm mouth. "Mierda, is this what you wanted?" he was going to remold your throat to his size once again. He hated having to do this to you, but he did work a lot and now he was going to make up for the loss of time. His hips rock steadily, finding a rhythm suitable for both of you. 

You happily obliged, gagging down and slurping him up. Miguel chuckled. Was this really it? It was what you wanted, but he was expecting you to keep going. He was expecting it to get louder. He was expecting to be able to hear you scream just a little more, but he could tell that you were already broken. Miguel growled deep in his throat as you opened your mouth wider, allowing him to slide deeper. You loved the feeling of having him fill your entire mouth, and you did your best to swallow every inch of him. You felt his girth stretching your cheeks, and you loved the sensation. It made you feel powerful and sexy, and you didn't mind one bit.

"Maybe we should move on to something else," he said.

Desperately you lapped at his thick cock, you had already memorized where his veins were warped decoratively. In hopes that he would keep cock there for you to enjoy just a little bit longer. Drool and precum ran down your chin. 

Miguel chuckled. He stopped thrusting into your mouth. You were so eager to please him. He couldn't help but be amused by you as you continued work on his cock, enjoying the pleasure. He enjoyed seeing you beg for him, and he was happy to have power over you.

He wanted to push you beyond your limits, and he was going to do it. "Do you really want my cock in here?" he asked. "Or do you want something more?"Your mouth was stuffed full with him. 

At this point you didn't even care anymore. He had your arms pinned above your head. Your head is trapped between his muscular thighs. You just wanted him and whatever he gave you you would gladly accept it.

"Answer me." He withdraws his cock.

But you moved your head up stubbornly trying to take him back into your mouth. Oh no, he wasn't having that. He wrapped his entire hand around your pretty neck and forced you down, choking you. 

"Ahora," he growled. 

Miguel couldn't help but laugh. Your response was expected, but he had been hoping for an answer that would lead him down a different route. He couldn't get over how easily you were willing to bow down to him. It was like he was the king, and you had to bow down to him. He enjoyed feeling that way, and he was certainly going to utilize it more.

Miguel leaned in close to your ear, and he whispered to you, "I want to make you feel good. How can I do that?" he asked softly a stark contrast of how he handled you. 

"Do whatever you want, Love, please" you cried "I just want you." And with that a sinister light bulb went off in his head. He retrieved the white wand while turning slightly and placing it on your puffy clit. He aimed a spinneret at your thigh causing the wand to stick there. Miguel couldn't help but smirk. You were an easy woman to please. He continued to enjoy pushing you, and he liked testing your patience. He got an air of smugness about him, and he couldn't wait for the next step.

The man leaned back slightly. He got an excited look in his eye as he realized what the wand would allow him to do. He couldn't help but smirk, looking forward to seeing your reaction. Miguel loved watching your reaction as he turned on the wand, but he did feel a little guilty. He didn't like to see you in pain, but he loved seeing you struggle. The wand was just the right mixture of the two, and he had gotten you right where he wanted you. You were trapped, unable to escape, but you could still feel all the pleasure the wand was giving you. 

Miguel watched you continue to squirm and moan, and he smiled. He loved that he was able to do that to you. It only made him want to torture and pleasure you more. 

You felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. " I'm gonna cum." You sobbed, "'nna cum. Just fuck me."

"Oh, are you?" he asked softly, looking down at you in amusement. He had been hoping for a reaction, but he didn't expect this. He smiled at how easily you had taken to his plan. Miguel loved that he could turn you on so much. His smirk grew, but he didn't say anything back, just kept on looking down at you. 

He knew exactly what you meant, and he had the power to give it to you. He loved the way he would keep you on your toes; it made him feel powerful and in control. 

You squeezed your eyes closed. The vibrator was the end of you. Your body slowly arched up on its own even with him pinning you down with his weight. Miguel quickly caught on and slipped his large swollen cock his back into your mouth. He thrusted it down your throat along with your air. And the coil in your belly finally snapped. A heady,  broken moan wraps around his dick struggling to move past your stuffed mouth. Your eyes rolling back as you trashed from the fierce orgasm ripping through you. 

"Take it, take it," he growled, pounding balls deep against your chin.

The way your throat tightened around him sent them over the edge. He dumped his cum all in the back of your poor throat. That's all you could do just take his length as you convulsed in pure pleasure. His cock was halfway out and his hand moved around it to pump more out.

"Keep that mouth open and Don't fucking swallow it." He spat warning you fangs on full display. The shiver that went down your spine from the way he barked his order was surreal.

Your mouth was filled with his white creamy relief. And you weren't allowed to consume a single drop. He was mesmerized admiring his handy work.

"Swallow it, Hermosa."

You did.

"Don't waste it or I'll fuck it back into your throat." Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, feeling his cock rest against your wet cheek.

"Show me." He ordered. Your mouth parts wide open showing him what a good girl you are for him. You swallow every last drop he gave you. Miguel smirked to himself, very content . You were such a good girl for him, and he couldn't find anyone else that would suit him like you did. You were the perfect girl for him, and he would treat you the way you deserved. He turned off the wand strapped to your thigh and pressed up against your pussy. 

"You're such a good girl, my little Hermosa," Miguel purrs, pleased with you. "I'm so proud of you." 

"You are?" 

"Of course I am," he smiled. "There isn't anyone else I'd want but you." Miguel's smirk grew. You were amazing, and he could barely hold back his grin. "You're everything I've ever wanted."

Miguel loved you so much. He would do anything you ever asked. But now wasn't the time to talk about his love for you, as he was going to keep pushing you. He was still hard and ready to go.

Miguel rolled you over on all fours, putting you in a vulnerable position. You couldn't escape now, no matter how hard you tried. He had the power, strength, and he was going to use it. This was a different kind of pleasure, and he was going to enjoy it. Miguel looked forward to seeing just how far he could push you.

"I haven't even fucked all your holes yet," he snickers. Miguel grabbed hold of you by the red web and pulled you towards him. Your bottom up in the air, and your arms holding you up. He flipped on the wand that was still attached to your leg. "Ah-" your arms gave out. Your breasts fall to the bed making a deep arch for him. 

"I can't take it," you wailed from the overstimulation on your poor swollen clit. You huffed anxiously unsure if you were ready to do this. Maybe you're in over your head. You should have just changed into your pajamas and gone to bed.

He coos tenderly, "Shh..." He pulled you out from your unfocused and chaotic cluster of thoughts with his deep voice. You feel his rough calloused palms caress your rear in soothing circles.

"Cálmate, you're doing so well for me." He pressed a kiss on your plump ass cheek. As soon as you settled down some more he gave you another reassuring kiss on your cheek. He lined up his large hefty package with your drooling entrance. "Take a deep breath for me," he coached. He plunges into your vibrating slit. "You feel so fucking good, Hermosa." Miguel groans. 

He felt his self control slowly drift away. You winced at the sting in your lower belly hurting as he sheathed himself all the way inside. The tip of his enormous length kissing your cervix greedily. He peppered kisses on your shoulder blade to distract you from the pain. Your folds clenched him tightly, sucking him in deeper.

"Fuck Miguel-"

"I know, I know. You can handle it. This is why I don't like being away from you," he says, "Cause now I have to stretch you out all over again " He told lies.

He loved the way you felt. His favorite part was retraining your body to take him again. He pulled out gritting his teeth as your walls desperately clung to him.

"You're sucking me back in," he hissed, withdrawing his dick.

He thrusts back harder into you starting a rough pace for you to take. He repeatedly pulled your ass by the red web back to meet his hips. Your blind fold loosens  from his fervent movement and friction from your cheek rubbing the bed under you, finally slipping off your eyes. Tears fall out the corner of your eyes landing on the sheets. Your vision was absolutely blurry; you could see nothing but stars flooding your space. Your fists gripped the cover for dear life while your lover indulged himself. 

He made you cum for the Umpteeth time. "Que Rica estas," he growled pounding away at your vibrating pussy.  Skin on skin echoes throughout the bedroom. The large white wand is still buzzing away at your poor throbbing cunt.   You lie there a moaning mess with broken sobs. Drool pools out your mouth soaking the sheet. Miguel's crimson red eyes lock fixated on where you two were connected. He was mesmerized by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. He loves the white frothing ring you created on his slick covered cock. He adored your fucked out expression as his heavy balls pat aggressivly against your pussy's lips.

"Dame una mas," he grunts, snaking an arm around your waist to get between your legs, feeling for your clit. He starts spelling his name on your clit, as if to remind your body who it belongs to. Him. Your lower belly feels full, a knot forming as Miguel summons another oragasm with his cock and fingers. He grabs a fist full of your hair forcing you to look at him. "Look at me," 

You looked at the feral sex god who fucked you from behind. His hair was a mess. Strands of his dark curls were sticking to his forehead. His sun kissed body glistening in sticky sweat. His fangs were visible and holy hell his eyes were red. This is the other version of him that you also loved and cherished dearly as well. His primal and animalistic side that he tried so hard to hide around you. When he was caught in the heat of the moment this version of him would come out. Miguel felt an overwhelming sense of pride. He had you right where he wanted you - a shivering mess on the bed, broken yet wanting more. He couldn't stop leering as he watched your tear stained face twist in pleasure, and he laughed. This was his element, and he was going to enjoy it as much as he could.

Miguel looked down at you in amusement, his smile growing even larger, he rubbed against your vibrating clit. He felt your walls around him squeeze tighter and tighter with every thrust. "Look at me when you fucking cum." He sent you over the edge once again, muscles spasming uncontrollably around his length. Your eyes rolled back, as more tears ran down your face. He loved your cock drunk face. It was that expression alone that sent him over the edge with you. He slams his pelvis into your ass with a wet audible smack. His chest sinks into your back pressing you further into the mattress. His low groan fills your ears with filthy Spanish profanities. He painted your cunt white and filled it up more. You felt a steady stream of liquid squirt out from you and run down your thigh. Every orgasm you have will be associated with him. The man knew how to condition your cunt. He sloppily kissed your tears as you cried out squirming under him.

"No more. I can't take it anymore." You wailed to him. 

Miguel kissed your tears away as you squirmed. He couldn't stop himself now; he had to push further. He wouldn't stop until you broke, and this was just another step he was going to take. He would put you back together again after you broke as he has done many times before.  He smiled down at you as you cried, taking satisfaction in his work. Miguel sighed slightly. He wasn't ready for you to give up yet. He wanted to push you, and you just gave in so easily. Miguel wanted more. He wanted to make you beg for him, and now you were just giving up. Miguel sighed again and shook his head as he flipped onto your back.

Miguel sat up. "Are you sure?" he asked. A smile grew on his face. "Are you sure you're done with this?" His voice was soft and sweet, but his eyes had that intense fire behind them, ready to push you further. He huffed and shook his head down at you as he laid you on your back under him.

"If you want me to stop then use your safe words." He challenged you. He knew you. If you really wanted him to stop you would have already called out a color. Miguel called you out on your bullshit. He leans down burying his face in the crook of your neck gently sucking at your sensitive skin.

"Say a color." He coaxed into your neck.  You bit your bottom lip. Miguel's voice was so close to your skin. He couldn't help but smirk as he leaned into you more, his teeth just barely touching the soft skin of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, and it felt so good. Miguel enjoyed himself as he took in the aroma of your body. His eyes closed, and he loved what he had done to you. 

Miguel pulled away, and smiled at you. "You still want me to stop?" he repeats. "Use your safe word if you really want me to."

You felt your face heat up once again. "Green." You moaned as he returned to nip on your breasts now.

"That's what I thought." He  replied smuggly. 

Miguel continued to look up at you with a mocking smile, knowing what you wanted him to do.

"So what do you want me to do?" he asked innocently.

Miguel knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to be specific. You had said the word, but he wanted to hear you ask him. Miguel loved making you beg.

"Keep going," you snapped at him, obviously annoyed with Miguel, your patience now gone, feeling too worked up.

"Hey, are you giving me attitude?" His brows furrowed and eyes narrowed down on you.

Your heart skipped a beat in fear of dealing with more intense treatment from your lover.

"Please, please, please," you punctuated with kisses on his lips desperately trying to convey your wishes to him, "Keep going, please. I need you." Your dignity and pride was nowhere in sight.

"That's my Good Girl," Miguel praised you. Miguel watched you, and he felt a wave of satisfaction run through him. You looked so cute right now. Your hair is a mess, your lips bruised , and your neck pink and purple with hickies. He enjoyed seeing you beg for his attention. Miguel had you exactly where he wanted you, and he would never let you go. Once you begged him, there was no taking it back. He felt powerful, and he enjoyed every second of it. He ripped off the wand from your thigh and flipped it off. 

Miguel's smile only grew as he watched you try to appease him. You really wanted him to keep going, and he was going to give it to you. He kisses each of your knees as he places them over his broad shoulders. Miguel's heart was racing. He enjoyed this so much. He wasn't going to be satisfied until he had you completely ruined and it would happen eventually. But for now? He would enjoy this moment. Miguel couldn't stop smiling down at you as he continued to press kisses into your knee. You looked so beautiful under him. Your legs parted nice and wide for his eyes only. Your juices mixed with his slowly pour out your sore cunt. "So wasteful" he mutters, stuffing the liquid back inside with his thumb. Miguel kept grinning while watching you writhe and squirm. There was no stopping him now. He had control over you, and he wasn't about to let go. He plunges back into your warm depths. Reaching deeper than before. A heavenly sigh parts from his lips, his half-hooded eyes lock on to yours.

You whimpered pathetically under him, "You're going to be the death of me..."

And soon he begins to move as one with you. Miguel's smile grew broader. He was in control, and he enjoyed every second of it. You would always be his. He didn't want anything besides that. He didn't want to let you go, and he didn't deserve to let you go. Miguel just kept pounding away.

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

He kisses you as hard just he fucks. Both of your teeth messily clack against each other. 

Miguel felt alive as he kissed you again. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have someone like you. No one else could compare. Miguel's eyes closed, and he kissed you with everything he had. He wanted to feel as close to you as he could; he was finally in the heaven that he deserved. Miguel knew this was what he wanted, and he would never let it go. Your pussy was soaking wet accepting everything he gave you with ease.  He had you almost folded in half knees touching your breasts. You're a sight for him to cherish and ruin.

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up," He growls at a quickening pace. He heavy balls scrunch up with each harsh rut.

"Tómalo, tómalo, toma todo lo que te doy." He's slurring up his words in a heated frenzy state.

His cock burst filling you up even more. He curls in forcing his sperm further up your cervix. Miguel swallows your cries messily with his hungry mouth. Your legs trembling over his shoulders, your eyes glassy with new tears. He gently removed your legs from up his shoulder down to his waist.

He refused to remove his cock from your full pussy.

"I want you to be mine," he urged, "All mine. I'm gonna knock you up," He leaned down and kissed your forehead. Images of you with a large swollen belly flash through his head. He could have you waddling around his workplace letting everyone know you were off limits. Breasts spilling out as you breast fed his baby.The one you both created together. But the idea of one child isn't enough for him, maybe two or four little ones running around the house. He could have his own kids and rub it in Peter B Parker's face. 

You could tell that Miguel had been thinking about what your future together might look like, and you were happy to hear that he wanted you to be a part of it.

" I'm yours," you answered softly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and adoration. You wanted your life to be tied to his in every way. You wanted nothing more than to be the woman who gave him children and made him happy. The thought of having his babies filled you with joy, and you wanted to do anything and everything to make that happen.You had never felt this way about anyone before. You couldn't imagine a life without him, and the thought of starting a family together was intoxicating. You wanted to give yourself to him entirely, and you were ready to surrender to the passion and emotion that you shared. You wanted to be his perfect partner and the thought of having his child was an incredible concept. You were willing to do anything for him, and you wanted him to know that.He finally softened and removed his cock from you. He ripped the red web off from your body effortlessly like tissue paper. 

You had been through a lot with Miguel, and now it was time for some after care. After all, you had both pushed yourselves to the limit and it was important to take some time to relax and enjoy the pleasure you had just shared. He cradled you in his arms, gently kissing your head and face. He stroked your hair and held you close, wanting to provide comfort and reassurance. You could feel his heart beating, and you felt safe and secure in his embrace. You knew that he would take care of you and protect you, and that made you feel even more loved.

"Amor don't fall asleep," he murmured into your locks. "I'll get the bath started." He gets out of bed and stalks to the bath. The water roars to life filling up the tub. Steam could be seen escaping from under the door frame. He came back into the bedroom and lifted you up in his arms. He carried you to the bathroom and placed you in the bathtub. He held you close, supporting you in the steamy, warm water. You were still feeling the effects of everything that had just happened, and you were glad to be held and taken care of. You felt safe and secure, and you appreciated the love that Miguel was showing you. You felt like you would never want to leave that bath tub, and you hoped to always be kept in a bubble of safety and comfort.

"Hermosa, how do you feel?" He asked carefully massaging soothing circles into your shoulders. His fingers work their way along your body. You felt the tension start to leave you as Miguel's hands began to rub your shoulders, working away the stress and muscle soreness. The hot bath had helped ease your sore muscles, and you finally began to feel calm after everything that had happened. Miguel was there for you, holding you close and comforting you, and you were grateful for his presence.

"I'm fine," you choked back fighting tears. 

"No,no, sweetie give me more," he pauses as he wraps up you with his arms pulling you back into his chest. "What's on your mind?" He sensed something was troubling you, but he wasn't sure if it was the sub drop from the intense session you two had together. 

"You want to have kids with me?" You quietly questioned him. 

Your question made Miguel startle, but he didn't hesitate to give you an honest answer. "Of course," he said. "I love you and I want to be with you forever. I want us to start a family together, and I want us to build a life together. I want us to have everything that we could ever dream of." His words brought a smile to your face, and you felt a weight being lifted from your shoulders. You felt hopeful and optimistic, and you were glad to have such a loving and supportive partner by your side.

Part two is out!

[morthra]

meanie | g.s

pairing : gojo satoru x reader

warnings : mean gojo, crybaby reader, reader is a sorcerer, a bit of angst (just a tiny bit)

contents : reader is gender neutral. lots of cuddling. non canon related events. not proofread :3

it's friday, you went inside your apartment with an exaggerated sigh feeling relieved only to find your boyfriend on the couch clicking his teeth. you took off your shoes and walked up to him, brows furrowed–confused.

"what?" you tiredly asked. gojo chuckled bitterly and shook his head "it's the middle of the day, what's got you so tired huh?" he said with an annoyed expression. you rolled your eyes at him, previously wanted to vent at him about how tiring this week was for you and how you needed a break from the continuous work of killing curses. which has physically and mentally drained you.

you went to your shared room instead, gojo chuckled as he saw your figure walking up the stairs still not noticing about your condition.

hours later, you were woken up by the feeling of someone shaking your shoulders. you lazily opened your eyes to see gojo, all dressed up. you sat up on the bed and rubbed your blurry eyes. "i thought we agreed to have a date tonight?" gojo said, his tone clearly tell that he was mad.

your mind suddenly wandered to what happened this morning, when you and gojo were talking after eating breakfast together. you remembered him planning a date for today, you mentally slapped yourself for being forgetful.

"toru, i'm sorry i-" your voice were cut off by gojo. "i'm sorry toru, is that all you wanna say?" he said, mocking you. your throat felt tight and you can't help but to let the tears fall, bringing up your hands to brush off the tears.

you kept saying i'm sorry to him like a spell. gojo was stunned at your reaction, did he crossed a line he wasn't meant to? are you overreacting? are you in your monthly mood swings? thoughts ran through his head as he cradle you on his arms.

you leaned in closer and continued to let your emotions out. "baby, tell me, what happened?" gojo softly said, he regretted deeply for his antics earlier this day. soft pats on the back and kisses on top of your head was what gojo could do to calm you down.

you took a deep breath as he swiped the tears on your cheek, looking at you in concern. "i'm sorry toru.." you said weakly. you always hated when you cried over something small like this, it happened quite a lot these days and you were afraid it's annoying your boyfriend. you overthink of the possibilities of him leaving you, as you have so many weaknesses instead of something to be proud of.

"i know baby, i know" gojo caressed your cheek with his thumb. he leaned in closer and planted a soft peck to your lips. "you wanna take some time off? I'll call Yaga later, yeah?" gojo softly said, you nodded and hugged him closer to you. "i'm sorry for being mean at you earlier, work been stressing me out. I shouldn't take it out on you like that" gojo apologized. he nestled to your neck, inhaling your scent that calmed him off.

"let's take a break together, toru" you replied. he pulled away and smiled at you, caressing your cheeks. "yeah, let's do that." gojo said, smiling. you both chuckled and decided to cuddle together, forgetting about the date.

[jasmineiros]

I wasn't going to post this here due to the somewhat sensitive subject of idolization of celebrities and I actually already vented on Instagram stories, but once the dam breaks out it's useless to even try to contain it. And the only thing that is flooding my mind now is rage.

I already hated millionaires, but after Taylor Swift came to Brazil to that freaking circus people called a concert, I hated them even more.

In case you're not aware, Brazil is dealing incredibly badly with the climate crisis. In Rio they hit the temperature of 60°C (100F, but the sensation was of 140F). It was the highest temperature registered SO FAR. A mix of this unbearable heat and the fact that the staff managing the production of concert used certain materials such as god-damned metal to cover certain structures made several people to get severe burns and 23-year-old die of a heart attack.

Now, that's where the irony comes.

After hearing the news, the best Taylor could ever do was posting a stories saying "how sorry she was and she was so young and she was so beautiful and blablabla" but also very vehemently reinforcing that "due to her grief she wasn't going to say anything about it during the show". I mean, a person who technically loved her, had to get donations to travel across the country and literally died because of this god-damned concert and you can't even make a tiny, small tribute for her. She didn't even mention her name in the stories, which was Ana Clara, btw.

She or the staff never reached out to the family to ask if they needed anything, even though they absolutely had the means to do it. Several years ago, when a Rihanna fan was murdered, she personally paid for the expenses of the funeral, because the family couldn't afford it.

And it gets worse.

She cancelled her next performances due to the climate issues. Being herself is the biggest celebrity CO2e polluter of this year so far. And she got back to the US. In a fucking private jet.

I mean, this combo couldn't be more unbelievable. She not only completely dehumanized an incredibly painful and serious situation, as she, with the 1% of magnates that literally rule this planet, is simply the root cause of the imminent destruction of this planet but it doesn't matter, as long as she still has money being shoved into that white ass of hers.

Or maybe I'm being naive, maybe it's our fault, after all, monkeys are meant to the zoo, not to be in the presence of an untouchable, perfect and almighty nature force such as she, since apparently she can't even breathe the same air we do by just using a freaking common airplane, like a sensitive and sane person would.

The fact that she will just run out and make other concerts with that same innocent angel aura, even though she displays a borderline psychopath behavior, like she still was the 16-year-old girl writing songs about her break ups is absolutely unbelievable to me.

This is just so similar to when that cryptofascist piece of trash of Aurora decided it would be just a good idea to make a shallow and generic discourse about love and acceptance and how everyone is being cancelled nowadays when a member of her band posted and gestured dog whistle supremacy symbols on more than one occasion.

Honestly I wish I could feel anything else right now, but the only thing I can still manage to internalize and express is pure hate.

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬

ᶻ 𝗓ᵎ How would they react to hearing you vent about how much the life they chose to have hurts you?

₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ H e a d c a n o n s!

⏤͟͟͞͞★ 𝑭𝒕. Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Sanzu Haruchiyo

𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Ran had already noticed something wrong, but he preferred to wait for you to say what you were feeling, he honestly didn't know very well how to deal with your feelings, no matter how much he worried and tried to understand you.

"What is wrong?" He questioned, somewhat apprehensive about your answer, when you finally told him how much you suffered for his gang work, almost like an outburst those words just flowed while Ran listened to you patiently, stroking your hair while you cried in his lap.

"I know this shit is selfish on my part, but I'm not going to give up this life anytime soon, you understand? I don't want you to live this... It's better for me to stay away from you." Ran would say, trying to be as brief as possible, he knew you didn't like his involvement in gangs, despite that, Ran wouldn't leave his "work" aside.

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

"Are you crying again?" He would question you as soon as he saw you crying, worried, Rindou would ask the reason for such insistent crying, when you told him how affected you were feeling because of your involvement in gangs, he would just hug you, trying to comfort you.

"...What do you want me to do? This is my life." Rindou would speak while watching you, he didn't want to move away from you, but he never wanted to make you suffer, despite that, quitting his gang work was not an option.

"If it hurts you so much, we better go our separate ways, I always knew this shit wasn't for you." It would be Rindou's final speech on the subject.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

It wasn't news to Izana how much his troubled life affected you, despite that, he tried to keep you out of it, but he also knew that it would make you increasingly sad.

"I would like to change, for you, for us, but I-I can't." Izana would say as you finished venting on his lap, he would wipe your tears and remain there, trying to keep you comfortable, Izana wouldn't give up the life he leads, if it meant sacrificing the love he feels for you, he would do it without thinking twice .

"If you want to stay here, you're going to have to get used to it, this is my destiny and I simply can't change it on a whim." It would be Izana's last speech on the subject, he would feel bad for saying such empty words, but he really didn't want to hurt you anymore or even give you hope.

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Kakucho would hide from himself the fact that you really suffered because of his gang work, the taller one always knew that the life he led was not the kind of life he wanted to give you, making him at various times think about giving up everything, despite this, he simply couldn't.

"Baby... I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry..." As you said how much it hurt you, all Kakucho could do was ask you to forgive him, seeing you in that state made him as sad as you, but he preferred to just hide all those feelings.

"I can't, I swear, I can't, please understand this." Caressing your face gently, he said, wiping your tears and giving you a small kiss on your forehead.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨

Haruchiyo wouldn't know how to deal with that whole situation, at the same time he wants to be with you, he knows that his involvement in gangs could end up affecting you.

As soon as he heard you talk about how much it was hurting you, Sanzu remained looking at you in silence, he was disappointed in himself, since he couldn't give up everything for you.

"I can't do this for you, this is the life I chose and I can't go back on my own choices." He would say, confirming that he wouldn't quit his gang work, despite saying it with uncertainty, it was simply something stronger than Sanzu could handle.

After a few days, Haruchiyo would become even colder and more distant, he couldn't walk away from your life, so he simply waited for you to do it for him.

[drdemonprince]

Do you worry about being so open about your sex life under the same name you use professionally? How did you settle on your current approach to talking about kink/fetishism publicly?

That's my question. Below is some background but feel free to ignore it.

I'm asking because, like many people, my kinks are integral to my sense of self and engaging in BDSM has been significant for my psychological wellbeing. I don't like keeping these important aspects of myself separate from the rest of my life and I'm jealous of the people I meet at munches who share openly kinky stuff on their regular Instagrams. But I also have relatives on all of my socials, including a few adult family members who take any opportunity to create drama or get on their high horses, and teenage cousins who obviously shouldn't be given information about my sex life.

I like using social media to connect with people, and it feels harder to do that when big parts of me are walled off. I'm so worried about sharing anything 'inappropriate' that I'm only presenting this bland, watered down version of myself and it makes me feel alienated. Making side accounts is one option, but it feels like compartmentalising and involves more 'personal brand' management than I care to juggle.

That's without even touching on in-person disclosures. How do I embrace these aspects of myself without acting like they're shameful, but also without being obnoxious or unfair on other people who might not want to know?

I know "authenticity" can be an unattainable ideal, especially on social media platforms that necessitate curation, but I do want to stop tying myself in so many knots over this (in the figurative, unsexy way).

Sorry for venting in your askbox.

Yeah, I have a lot of thoughts on this.

I don't worry about the potential of my speaking openly about my sex life ruining my professional life because I hate my professional life and professionalism in nearly all forms. I have nothing but contempt for the academy, social psychology, my employer, the publishing industry, 99% of the organizations that hire me to provide workshops, and a decent-sized subset of my readers who are of the more liberal end of things. Alienating myself from these institutions and people and making myself incompatible with their viewpoints feels as necessary to me as breathing air.

when I was very young I was concerned with making myself palatable to academia and shucking off everything that was unprofessional and hillbillyish and childish and weird about me, but then I learned what success within the academy really entailed. I heard faculty members shrug and say they "didn't really care" about the topics they were studying (topics like racism, sexism, transphobia, etc) and were just publishing work on these subjects to further their own careers. I was trained to use questionable research protocols that generated false positives and specious results. Nearly all the research that I worked on for three years of undergrad and five years of graduate school would eventually be discredited due to failure to replicate. And I realized that I was being taken advantage of all the while, mined for cheap labor on meaningless projects that meant nothing scientifically, making $14k a year in a field where there were no future job prospects.

by the time i finished my PhD I knew that I wanted to be nothing like the people that had trained me and taken advantage of me, and that I had useless skills in a dying field. I was plenty happy to cut the shit by then and be real about who I was, what I believed, and what was and wasn't a virtuous use of my time. This only became more pronounced after I was screwed over by even more employers as a part-time instructor, and then finally hired full-time in a department that was doing good work, but which was constantly getting undercut by those in higher up administrative positions.

My entire career I have essentially been daring people to fire me and they never seem to do it. No matter how much shit I talk about the university and my profession and no matter how much I bear about myself, I just keep getting rewarded for it and allowed to float along relatively unbothered. There's a power in having a lot of audacity. I am not ashamed of who I am and I don't worry about how my employer and colleagues see me because as a whole I have zero respect for any of them or their opinions. (I have some individual coworkers who are great! but they dont represent Psychology or Academia as a whole or its values. my coworker friends are supportive of my freaky trans kinky self).

It's much the same dynamic in my family. I have no respect for the majority of people in my family and I don't concern myself with how they might react to the things I have to say. When I first started writing openly about Autism some relatives found it deeply offensive and talked a lot of shit about me behind my back, saying that I was embarassing all of them by associating us with a disability they found shameful, but my mom communicated to those relatives in no uncertain terms that I was gonna just keep doing whatever the fuck I wanted and they'd have to find some way to deal with it.

My mom had already learned that about me firsthand. I complain about her sometimes but I do have immense gratitude to her for just accepting who I am, even if there are elements of it she can't understand and probably does not feel good about. She learned a long long time ago that I was on my own separate planet and that there was nothing she could do to stop me from running my mouth and living my life, and I'm thankful to her for that. My actions have set the tone with my family pretty clearly: i came out as trans publicly before I told them, I started hormones and changed my name/gender marker without consulting them and then told them it was a fact already and they'd need to get in line. I approach most things about myself that others might take issue with in the same way: it's a fact, it's fucking happening, and you can't tell me shit about it that is going to keep me from doing it. and if you're too much of a dick about it I might end up writing about you in a book or essay so watch out, I guess.

That sounds more vindicitive than how I actually feel most of the time, of course. I just don't think about the opinions of people I don't respect. I care about what my friends think of me, and the people I look up to, and I try to rise to a level that is worthy of them. And of course I do experience fear of ostacism and failure in those respects and have not always coped with it in a confident, principled way. But with my aunts and uncles or my boss? Fuck them. I have no desire to win their approval because I've seen what they approve of and it sucks.

All of this is possible because I am not financially reliant upon my family, of course, and because if I lose my job I would have a back-up plan. I've always done freelancing and side writing gigs, even back when I was a part-timer with really insecure teaching jobs, and so the loss of any one position has never felt that catastrophic to me. I was already released by my PhD program into economically shaky ground and I never had a prayer of having a successful tenure track academic "career", so I'm not afraid of losing that. that's already gone. I feel generally pretty confident in my ability to scratch by making a living doing this or that even if somebody fires me, and I won't have to ask relatives for money so it really does not matter if I alienate any of them. that is an IMMENSE PRIVILEGE and someone not in that position shouldn't compare themselves to me or expect themselves to have that same degree of confidence. sometimes you have to just keep your head down to survive and there's no shame in that either.

as for the question about "authenticity" as an idealized end state and how to reconcile it with social media, here are some of my thoughts: it's not authenticity if it is focused on how other people interpret you. authenticity is letting go of trying to manage what other people think about you. that means you dont ever have to broadcast everything about yourself to the public or on social media, you dont ever have to share something that you dont want to, the pursuit of being perfectly understood is one that will never be fulfilled and there is no need to make oneself unnecessarily vulnerable just for the sake of appealing to people who might not ever understand and accept you anyway. authenticity is more about an energy than about revealment. it's an energy of self acceptance, not necessarily self love, and it's not something that one broadcasts, it's something one cultivates by developing secure, supportive relationships, improving one's self knowledge, and by working through one's baggage.

[wooahaes]

step forward, steps back

pairing: non-idol!joshua & gn!reader [platonic]

genre: hurt/comfort. writer's vent fic.

word count: 1.2k~

warnings: food (hot chocolate) mention. discussions of past abuse & mentions to sex within that relationship. discussions of current dating and potentially not being ready for it yet. platonic skinship between shua & reader (kisses on the top of the head, a little cuddling, etc). mentions of a trauma response in pattern recognition as an attempt to protect the self. writer is working through feelings rn. reader crying. no proofreading.

daisy's notes: i debated turning off reblogs or not putting this in the tags but if anyone else needs to hear this kind of thing... then i hope it helps. it's okay to not be ready after abuse. i'll struggle with accepting it, but that doesn't mean it's not true.

Joshua's fingers were warm around your own cold ones as he passed you your cup of hot chocolate. He'd known you so, so long now, and still he never seemed surprised that your hands were always a bit cold: you constantly forgot to wear gloves in colder weather, and other times you just seemed to bundle up in other ways when you were chilly. His hands lingered there a bit longer, though, just to make sure the porcelain wasn't about to slip. The look on your face said it all: you needed your best friend right now.

"I added a little bit of cinnamon into it," he settled into the spot next to you, watching the numb way you traced one of your thumbs against the smooth, shiny blue porcelain. This was your mug, always tucked safely away in the back of his cabinets. No one else's. "Sorry there's no whipped cream. I meant to get more, but--"

"I'm really scared."

Something flipped within him immediately, and he shifted. "Did he touch you?" A shake of your head. "Did... Did he say something? Because if he said something--"

"He reminds me of him, Josh." You didn't meet his eyes, still staring down at the mug in your hands instead. It was always easier to not look at Joshua in moments like these. He didn't mind: whatever you needed, you could do. It was his job to listen and support now. "Like... Not in the bad ways. At least, I don't think that's it. But... I don't want to tell him everything because it's early, he doesn't need to know the intricate bullshit of that abuse." With a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumped. "But I can't set boundaries without saying 'hey, this reminds me of that abusive guy I mentioned before,' because it's his personality."

He furrowed his brows. "But..."

"It's kinda fucked up," you shifted, and set down the mug on his coffee table without taking a sip. It'd be there when you were done, and Joshua would warm it back up if he needed to. You tucked your legs underneath you, pulling the blanket he'd draped over your shoulders even closer to you. "But... When I think of that guy... I don't think of all the bad. I mean--He was a manipulative piece of shit, Josh, but that's not all he was. Like..."

"That's how abusers get their victims," he said outright, just so you wouldn't have to. "I know."

Another sigh, followed by you shifting a bit more on his couch. "Right. It's like... It's pattern recognition, I think. It's not something I want, but it's like my brain keeps waving these flags like... Hey, remember the last guy? You felt warm and fuzzy with him, too. He heard me say that no one's called me pretty or beautiful before and he started laying it on thick, too." You shut your eyes. "I know this isn't going in the same direction, because we already had this talk--I don't have to worry about it all just being for sex."

Joshua moved in a little more, arm wrapping around you. His thumb traced down your arm, and he felt you shift closer to him. "Okay. So...?"

"So I know it's all irrational. But... What if... It's all this big sign that I'm not ready to date?"

You stiffened in his arms. It was different saying it out loud, wasn't it? Joshua knew you, he knew the way you would think about things. You'd thought the same thing so, so many times--even when you weren't dating. What if you weren't ready? What if you would never be ready? Therapy wasn't something you could do yet, not without some sort of adjustment to your finances and time and everything that held you back from it all. It was always a one day kind of deal, and it'd never panned out. Life kept getting in the way.

"Then you aren't ready," Joshua said, taking your hands in his own. "And that's okay. You were really hurt by everything, you know. You're allowed to not be ready."

"We weren't even together that long."

"Okay?" Joshua squeezed your hands gently. "And? He still hurt you."

"It was... Mainly just sexual, though."

You were doing it again. Joshua slid a little closer to you, knee pressing against your thigh. "It wasn't and you know that. He listened to you a lot, he made you laugh, he complimented you..." Just so he could keep you in his grasp. He'd heard the story before and committed the details to memory so you wouldn't have to say them again. "Like you just said... It's not all bad because then no one would agree to a relationship with them."

Your breath hitched, and already Joshua was pulling you into his arms as the tears began to flow. He could feel your warm skin against the crook of his neck as you broke into sobs, fingers curling hard around the soft t-shirt he'd donned while lazing around his apartment.

"But I really like him, Shua."

"I know." He rubbed circled onto your back.

You held on tighter. "I'm just so fucking scared."

"I know." He pressed a kiss onto the side of your hair. "Maybe it's not the right time."

"Then when will it be?!" You pulled away just to see his face, tears racing down your cheeks. "When--When will it be the right fucking time?!"

He said nothing, and you broke down yet again before diving into his arms. It's been years was what you wanted to say. He shut his eyes, holding you tighter.

"I know it's not what you want to hear," he said, still rubbing circles onto your back in a slow, soothing motion. "But you should talk to him about it soon. Tell him that you might not be as ready as you thought you were. Okay?"

A quiet nod, and you held onto him tighter. "I don't wanna lose him."

"If he's the kind of guy I think he is..." Joshua's heard so much by now. "... Then he meant it when he said he was okay if this didn't go anywhere. Just..." He nudged you away, taking your face in his hands. "Just don't forget that, okay? It's okay if you try to keep this going and it turns out you're better as friends right now. Just don't shut him out."

You wiped roughly at your face with your sleeves, curling back up in Joshua's warm embrace. "I love you, you know," you mumbled. "I'm glad you're my friend, Joshua."

He chuckled, pressing another gentle kiss onto the top of your head. "Someone has to be the voice of reason when Cheol, Jeonghan, and I start making plans."

With a sniffle, you rolled your eyes. "Yeah, because sometimes those plans involve breaking into the humanities building to put party hats on the statues."

"We didn't do it--"

"Yeah! 'Cause I stopped you!" You rolled your eyes, cheek smushed against his shoulder as you rested your head against it. "Can't believe Cheol of all people knew about the broken window lock..."

He laughed, soft and warm as ever, and rested his head against your own. "Really... I mean it. It's okay to not be ready yet, okay? You're still healing."

With a sigh, you snuggled in further. "Can we just... watch something stupid and make fun of it? I think I need to clear my head now."

Joshua chuckled a little, lightly flicking your forehead after untangling himself from you. "You pick whatever. I'll get the snacks."

no taglist on account of venty feelings

[daz4i]

i don't mean to alarm anyone but i think I'm genuinely losing my mind more and more each day

[hangmanssunnies]

Square Peg, Round Hole

Summary: You love Bradley Bradshaw. He really is like a dream. You just wish that your parents didn't love him as much as you do.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Word count: 2k

AO3 link

Warnings: complicated parental relationship, childhood trauma, venting, healthy relationship, bad jokes, slight angst. Let me know if I missed any.

Authors note: Did this scene in The Good Place ever make you cry? Or have your parents ever liked your partner more than you? If so, this fic goes out to you. <3

"Was I too much with your parents again?" He asks you. It's only moments after he passed you a milkshake and eased his foot off the break. The Bronco creeps forward out of the drive-thru, and Bradley checks both ways before turning back on the road home. You sip your milkshake and consider his words carefully. 

It was one of those things. It didn't bother you…not really, but then again, maybe it did. You had always felt that you weren't really meant to be your parents' kid. And you loved your parents, of course you did, but it never really fit not the way it was supposed to. And your parents were bursting at the seams for parental love. You just weren't really the right shape for it. On the other hand, Bradley Bradshaw was the perfect shape; your parents adored him, and he loved them right back. The only reason Sunday brunch had started as a tradition was because of Bradley willing it into existence. You think your parents were more into Bradley than flies were with honey. They just clicked and latched on to Bradley's natural charisma and bright personality. 

It was a beautiful thing for you to think about sometimes. How, at least, you could bring them together. It wasn't your purpose to be your parents' perfect kid. It was your destiny to unite this lonely man with a family, though. It's hard to describe. It's not like you saw Bradley in any shape or form, your brother. However, you knew that if they felt they could get away with it, your parents would choose Bradley over you if you ever broke up. 

"No." It's not until you say it that you realize it's true. "No, you've made me love my parents again."

"What is it then?" He asks. 

"It's hard sometimes to see you with them. See how they are with you," You laugh and put your milkshake down in the free drink holder next to Bradley's own. "I mean, my dad watched four documentaries on the Navy and listens to a podcast about the history of TOP GUN while he drives to work. Then, my mom, she tells you to eat more! She fucking glows when you agree to play that cheesy keyboard they bought me in high school. The one that I never learned to play." You're quiet for a moment then, spinning your ring around your finger, fiddling with it. You hope the action will put you at ease, but it's primarily unsuccessful. You want to try to explain yourself more, and the hurt aching in your chest. However, the words don't come, forcing you to sit there with it. 

"I'm sorry," Bradley eventually says. 

"I don't want you to be sorry. I think you are the most amazing man on the planet," You immediately tell him, not wanting Bradley to get how you were feeling all twisted in his own head. 

"I'm not sorry for my actions. I'm sorry for you, baby. I'm sorry for the hurt you feel," He amends in a soft, gentle tone.

"Don't be sorry for me, Bradley. I have a happier family than I ever dreamed about in my adult life." Despite your brave words, a few tears burst from your eyes. You quickly wipe them away, drying your hands on your side. It feels like when you forget to grab a napkin for the movie theater popcorn, not really gone, mostly just smudged. 

"The way they are with you made me realize I was wrong. I think that's my big issue. I always thought they just weren't built to be parents. They weren't meant to love someone else like that. So, it wasn't that they couldn't change or they didn't have the capacity to love me. It's that I wasn't ever good enough for them."

Bradley's heart fucking broke hearing your confession. It broke into a hundred more pieces than he thought it could. He loved your parents and couldn't conceptualize any parents making you feel the way you did. His own parents had loved him wholeheartedly and openly right up until the moment they took their last breaths. They were never shy about it either, ensuring he knew they adored him. He never questioned that he was loved. Having made it one of his life missions to love you, he never wanted to see you feel anything less than that. Yet, you could tell the idea of it all made him uncomfortable. 

"So, I'm not mad at you. I'm not even mad at them because they are so happy. I love seeing them so happy, and I love seeing you so happy. All of that makes me happy. I'm not actually mad at myself, but maybe I'm mad at the little girl inside me. Or maybe she's mad at me. But either way, one of us, or both of us. Me. I wasn't enough for them to love me like that, and I never will be." Abandoning your ring, you clench your hands over your knees hard. The winded explanation made your emotions regarding the situation bubble hotly in you as more tears threatened to spill. You stop looking out the window and decide that Bradley's broad form is much better at capturing your attention.

  "First," Bradley starts, slowly drawing out the word, "I want to say I think you are enough, and I love you so much. Next, will you hold my hand?" Bradley's primary love language was physical touch. He was always touch starved. Any time he was with you, he needed to touch you somehow, even if it was just the edge of your foot pressed into his calf. Sometimes he twisted his pinky with yours or would stroke an ankle on the couch when your feet were in his lap. You knew he needed to touch you to feel reassured. You took his hand then, slotting your fingers together. You could see him visibly relax and shift at your touch like it helped pull him back from an edge.

"Thank you," you whisper in a watery voice. 

"How can I support you right now, my love? Would you like me to listen, or do you want a solution? Or I can call your parents and tell them off." Bradley's deep timber tells you just how serious and involved he is in this conversation despite driving. Fuck, you loved how good Bradley was at communicating. You were worried about being with him at first. Military men don't really have the best reputations, but he was so mature and so good to you. You were unreasonably in love with him, it was consuming, but that wasn't something you were upset about. 

"Can you listen a little more?" You ask. 

"Of course, baby. Why do you think these ears are so big? It's to hear you better." 

"Bradley," you whine with a half laugh. Bradley's mouth spreads into a wide grin, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. Only when his thumb starts tracing soothing circles into your skin do you find the energy to speak again. "When I was growing up, they weren't how they are now. And every time we see them, part of me is always prepared for how they used to be. For them to be cold and mean, or indifferent, or criticizing, or any of the other things that made me feel so much less than. I wish I could just accept that they had changed, but I don't think I'll ever really believe that, no matter how much time has passed. And then it's so frustrating that I'm caught up on this. I'm an adult! So, why do they have this grip on me? I just want to be free. I want to be done with this hurt."

"There is nothing wrong with you feeling this way. That little girl in you that they hurt, that they still hurt. She is allowed to have her feelings hurt, but I don't think that you should ignore her and how she feels like they did."

"I don't know how to do that, Bradley. I can't just be having a breakdown all the time."

"Well, we can start by making sure you feel safe." He pulls the Bronco into the driveway and puts it in park. As soon as he does, he turns to give you his full attention. 

"We are home, and you're safe. You are also so loved. I love you and the little girl you used to be too. I know I can't fix this hurt for you, but I want to see you happy, and I want to help in any way I can. Okay?"  Bradley's big eyes sparkle with emotion, and you are briefly concerned that he might cry too. When you give him a small nod he continues, "Well, we can talk about this more whenever ready, and we can work through it however you need." 

"You don't have to take care of me, Bradley."

"I want to," He says earnestly. "I maybe even need to sometimes. So, if you'll let me when you need that or want that, I'd love to take care of you. I think you don't let me do enough."

You take a deep, slow breath to steady yourself. Bradley's face is serious but open. His lips pull taught under his mustache, with his warm eyes still a little misty. Leaning forward, you connect your lips with his. It doesn't even take a moment for Bradley's lips to move with yours softly. The gentle comfort of his lips makes you feel a little warm and gooey. The tears dripping off your face. The storm cloud hovering over you doesn't disappear, but the rain lets up a little, and you feel like you can breathe right again. Pulling away from Bradley, you give him a weak smile before requesting, "Please make me laugh."

"Yes, Ma'am. I think that's something I can do." He says after leaning over the console to peck your lips one more time. "What do you call a fish wearing a bow tie?" 

"What?" 

"Sofishticated."

The terrible joke does get a small snort out of you, and you roll your eyes at him. "You could have done better than that."

"I will have you know I have been working on that joke for weeks and was saving it for our aquarium date." That gets another chuckle out of you, and a wide triumphant grin spreads across Bradley's face. However, it fades a bit as he cups your face and swipes away the remaining tears off your cheek. "Can I actually say something more?"

"Yes, of course," you answer.  

"I'm sorry I don't have parents to give you and make you feel jealous, baby." He didn't say it in a condescending way. He was genuine in his want. You knew that if Nick and Carole were still alive, he would wish you were getting the mountains of love they would have showered on you.

"I'm not trying to make anything about your parents about me," you tell him quickly.

"You aren't," he reassures you. "They would have loved you, though."

"Thank you, Bradley. Now can we drink milkshakes and watch our show?" 

"Absolutely, baby," He says as he reluctantly lets go of your hand. Immediately grabbing it again when you two are out of the car and walking inside. 

"You know, I do have Mav, and you are more than welcome to him." 

"Maverick!?" You giggle at the very idea of Bradley's charming uncle and pseudo-father spending time with you. 

"I promise, he is just waiting to get rid of me. And he already likes you more."

"One, Mav loves you. And two, no one could want to get rid of you, Bradley,” you protest.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm very sure because I want to keep you forever."

"Yours forever? I like the sound of that."

"Me too," you tell him squeezing his hand before letting go to unlock the door. Bradley's free arm wraps around your waist, and he starts peppering your neck with tickling kisses, not caring how much harder it makes for you to get the door open.