#Literally so feral for them it’s ridiculous

[athymelyreply]

*banging pots and pans* HOBRINTHIAN TIME, COME GET YOUR HOBRINTHIAN HERE

[coridallasmultipass]

I am once again begging online shop payment processing companies to allow me to enter a separate name for shipping and separate name for billing!!

It's the same address, I'm just trans and have not legally changed my personal name, but I still prefer to receive mail as my preferred name! Like it's literally my professional name, I do business as my preferred name.

Annoying as fuck, and I don't want to chance my bank rejecting the payment (though I'm sure someone at my bank has put a note to allow it on my account by now, since I've contacted them a couple times before when I realized too late that the billing section didn't let me input another "address/name" section, and they said the payment was fine in those cases.)

Anyway, legal name changes should be free and non-advertised for everyone. Tbh, you should get a free name change every time you file your taxes on time as an incentive for good citizen behaviour. Once I am elected pres-

[takes1]

final part asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

skip the intro if you want again, (i marked the beginning of actual smut for ease of navigating) couldn't resist adding some kuroo stuff bc i love writing him even if its not sexual/thirst. this has turned a bit more into porn with plot forgive me i'm simple

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

info. nsfw / soft+rough kissy missionary sex / mentions of personal restraint / multiple orgasms / mentions of masturbation / gentle giant!asahi / asahi keeping your mouth shut / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / dacryphilia if you squint / sex toys (vibrator) / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.6k words / thanks for reading this asahi series!! it's been a delight!

haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. part three here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

You chose some giant clothes to cover the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

Then, with your security chair out of the way, you quietly slipped into the hall.

The familiar sound of Helldivers 2 on the entertainment speakers assaulted your ears. Of course, he got to invite friends over for the weekend.

You padded downstairs, the ache between your legs nearly unmanageable. You clenched your fists at the sight of his lazy ass as you walked behind the couch to get to the front door.

It was funny how quickly he zapped all desire from your body. You did not enjoy sobering up so quickly.

"I thought you said you were staying home!" Tetsurou called as soon as you grabbed the leash off of the rack.

You nearly pulled a muscle rolling your eyes so far back. You shook the thing violently from the doorway so he'd get it through his thick skull that you were literally doing what he texted you to do.

A couple voices muttered something, but your brother spoke volumes above it--

"Wait two seconds, shit-head!"

You clipped the hook into your dog's collar. To Hell with whatever he wanted. You unlocked the door and slipped on a pair of giant, black crocs.

That garbage pile gave you enough grief about your no-plans-plan in the past 12 hours to deserve being stranded on a barrel in the middle of the ocean. He could handle playing games with his friends while you went to walk the dog.

"C'mon, baby," You cooed and closed the door behind you.

It was, thankfully, nice and cold outside. You were glad you opted for some warm clothes.

"Where are my shoes?!" He yelled through the crack in the door. Almost to the end of the driveway, you didn't figure he had the gumption to follow you without them.

You pushed your hood up and pulled the strings.

A stop at the other side of the gate, and you waited for Maru to finish pissing in order to continue the walk. The big, empty street looked a little creepy in the dark.

flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!

You were glad to not be alone, but still threw your head back when he rounded the corner. His hands were shoved into his basketball shorts and he was shivering.

You both looked down to each other's feet at the same time. He had to put on your flip-flops, so his heels were hanging out the back and his grippers were on the pavement.

A silent exchange went down, one shoe at a time.

Now walking again, you returned to your baseline agitation.

"I don't need a bodyguard to walk the dog."

"Try being a little less stupid, and I'll trust you to not run off with the first guy you see."

You stopped dead in your tracks. "You think this is me sneaking out?"

He didn't respond quickly enough.

You kept walking, glad he was so cold that his teeth were chattering, "You're an idiot--."

He pushed you, unable or unwilling to argue.

"Why would I sneak out with the dog?" You muttered.

Another stop for Maru. It was silent, again, and you were wishing he would just go back by himself already.

"What's that smell?" He sounded ridiculously close to your head.

You looked up and realized that was because he was sniffing your hood. A sudden insecurity of smelling like sex flashed through you.

Pushing hard on his chest, you declared, "Fuck off."

It didn't send him flying the way you wanted it to. It only pissed him off, especially because he knew that smell from somewhere. He just couldn't recall exactly how right now.

You expected him to push or slap you back, so you tensed, but no such move was made.

"One day you'll thank me," He muttered with a grumpy chuckle.

A glance didn't do you any good. It was too dark to see his face.

"For what?" You rolled your eyes again.

It was quiet for so long that you were certain he had just been joking. As if he did anything to help you out, anyway. All he did was piss you off and get in your way.

"For making sure you don't get hurt."

Frustration on the tip of your tongue, you began to retort, "I--," but fell short of the will to say anything back for a minute.

Your glancing around in the dark didn't help you form any thoughts.

Maybe Asahi being so kind was just luck. Not the wise intuition you claimed to be guided by. There were already many times tonight that could've made a turn for the worse, and you hadn't realized until after the fact.

That didn't change how you felt, though, other than some newfound patience for Tetsurou's difficult, demanding nature.

Maru didn't want to go much further than the fifth lamp post, so your small party turned around before you could cross the street.

It was quiet on the way back. Just the jingle of your dog's collar and the flip-flip of these shoes you hated.

You rounded the corner and closed the gate behind you, Tetsurou opting to walk ahead since it was evident to him that there was no danger anymore.

It was just getting to be a comfortable silence when he had to speak up one last time.

"Has this tree always been sideways?"

You genuinely thought it was a joke, so you didn't spare a look when you crossed behind him to get inside. He caught you shoulder the way you hated so much and you swiped your hand to hit him, but saw what he was talking about and froze.

The both of you took a moment, dumbfounded, to stare at your lawn tree. It looked nearly snapped, like a hurricane had come through, but it hadn't rained in weeks. Nothing else was wrecked. Just the tree.

You felt guilty about it for just a second, but rationalized that it had nothing to do with you. You weren't sure what that was from.

"Maybe it was rotted from the inside?" You thought out loud.

He glanced around, suspicion at its full peak, and guided you inside swiftly by your upper back.

Tetsurou locked the door behind you and stayed stock-still, staring through the peephole for so long you didn't bother saying anything to him before heading back upstairs.

At your door, you heard him call to Kenma and Bokuto.

"Did one of you kick that tree in the yard?"

You collapsed against the door with a soft shut and an even softer sigh.

There was no time to deconstruct everything that was discussed, because your eyes followed a sound that nearly made you jump out of your skin.

The man took up so much of your bed. He was on his back, scarred knuckles brushed slowly up and down, a casual pump to quell his impatient cock.

His hand fit much better around it than yours. In his other hand, held closer to his face, he was clicking a small device- the familiar buzz of which inspired a complete takeover of tension between your legs.

Your embarrassment was no secret, and neither was his curiosity.

"I'd love to use this," He grinned and looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes.

It took some effort to find the lock on the door and make your shaky way over to the bed. Like last time, he met you at the side.

However, you noticed that before you left, he didn't have the same edge in his brow, or the eagerness that defined the way he pulled you into him.

When you stumbled, he caught you and tilted your head for a restless kiss. He was shoving his hands under the waistband of your pants and humming a sort of approval against your cool lips. It sent your stomach back into those fluttery waves of excitement all over again.

"You should take your clothes off," He muttered, fully immersed in his desire since he never had to sober off of it.

"Yeah- I should," You breathed against his rough, needy lips.

You were slipping back in quickly, though, when he took your lips in a chaste, passionate kiss all over again. His hands were slipping over your skin, discarding your hoodie before you could do it yourself.

His whole body was warm, it felt like he was burning through you when you stepped out of your pants and fell against his front. Like a melting ice cube.

When he picked you up this time and set you down, it was less premeditated, more animalistic. You gave a giggling smile when he parted your legs for him.

Any shyness he had before was long-gone after 10 minutes of imagining what he was going to do to you- you squirmed at his spit-slick fingers slipping over your soaking cunt.

"Still so wet for me," He muttered, pleased, into your hair, while his massive body settled over you.

That intense, near-evolutionary drive kicked in again where you believed you could take whatever he wanted to give you all night. It may have been the smell of his sweat, it may have been his grumbly voice.

"Obviously," You smirked. He grinned at your confidence.

"We can take this slow," He rolled a condom on without wasting any extra time, "I don't wanna hurt you."

The statement floored you for a moment. He didn't notice as he lined himself up with your tightness.

It echoed in your brain during the most contradictory part possible.

He sank into you- it wasn't easy, but after hours of build-up -more if you counted the self-pleasure you couldn't resist before he arrived- it was beyond rewarding to watch all of the stress and worry on his brow melt away in one smooth, slow stroke.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck," You whined, his grasp on your hip reassuring, but still a pen in which you couldn't wriggle from or adjust against, "God-!"

Your thighs twitched on either side of him, forcibly relaxed- you tried to catch your breath, but felt like your lungs were too constricted to do so.

His thumb brushed your cheek.

Patience and gentleness in the midst of it all allowed you to breathe a little easier.

Only kindness, with a hint of pity, remained in his expression as you gasped and struggled to ease up around his cock.

He looked away for a moment, his hand leaving the side of your face, and you heard a saving grace.

Asahi did you the liberty of placing it against your clit. His face lit up at the sight and sound of your newfound gratification.

"I bet that feels better, huh?" He smiled against your parted lips, stealing a few of your moans with an excited kiss.

There was a hard-to-pin inquisitiveness about his attitude surrounding your vibrator. Like he was dying to use it on you, feel you writhe around his still cock.

"Ohh my god-! Ah-Mn!" You cried against his lips.

It was met with chuckle and the slow pump of his hips sinking deeper into you.

It dulled the discomfort of his size, leaving only a feeling of fullness between your legs, a satisfied craving, and the intense waves of pleasure from your clit.

His pretty face and perfect body over you- how could you not just announce your paradise to everyone in the city?

One hand laced in yours, and you took control of your vibrator to swirl it the way you preferred while he picked up his leisurely pace.

He barely caught your high-pitched tone at the combination with an alarmed kiss.

Stalling, he warned, "You gotta be quiet," and leaned to press further kisses against your neck.

He quickly learned that you weren't going to stay that way for him, even if his balls were allegedly on the line.

The feeling of him going deeper, your thighs bouncing from his weight that shifted your entire body, and the building waves over your clit.

"Asahi," Came out in a needy moan.

"Shhh," He cooed, gripping the bottom half of your face to get your focus on him.

The beat of his thighs against the back of yours stole your attention instead- you squeezed against his palm with furrowed brows.

Another noisy cry at his size splitting through you, and he instinctively covered your mouth to shut you up.

He thrust hard into you and stayed there, earning a pitiful whimper, and leaned in close to catch your avoidant eyes.

A mutter against your heated skin, "Do I need to keep you quiet?"

His cock was stretching you beyond your limits- that steely look in his pretty brown eyes was so layered.

You clenched around him, butterflies attacking you now, of all times, at his stern tone, but genuine concern.

A gorgeous smile spread across his features when you nodded, helpless, but honest.

He felt too good- he filled you up better than you had imagined. You were stunned to feel that you were already close. There was just no possible way.

This wasn't how you wanted it to go.

It was too soon- you didn't want it to be over so quickly. But now, of course, you realized you didn't have the physical capacity to take him all night.

You tried moving the overwhelming buzz away from your needy clit, but met the resistance of his hand instead.

He pressed just enough to guide you right to an edge you couldn't pull back from. You whimpered against his palm.

You couldn't tell him you were about to cum. You couldn't move away, or speak, nor did you possess the will to push against him. All you did was claw, weak, across his back.

The look in his eyes responded to your subtle panic-pleasure without a word. A gentle fondness that he shouldn't have been capable of while he gave you his rougher strokes.

He removed his hand from your mouth just to swallow your sounds with a starved kiss, an avid grumble at the back of his throat when you took his tongue so well.

"Mm-!" You squeaked, nails digging deep red trenches into his shoulder.

It was an ultimate submission you never had the insurance to safely experience before.

You got the chance for a gasp before getting cut off -half a second before you could alert the entire house- by his huge palm again.

Asahi groaned as you tightened around him. He quickly shut himself up by flexing away the pleasure and leaning down to pant, warm breath spilling against your ear.

"Shh- I got you," His kindhearted whisper strung you along, crushing you underneath his weight, while he repeated that sweet promise, "I got you, baby."

All your worry of it being too soon dissipated as your orgasm wracked through your entire body and filled you with pure bliss. He fucked you hard and steady through it and didn't even grant you the dignity of looking away from him.

Your chest was tight at the end of it, eyes stinging, and you would've sobbed if he wasn't still keeping you quiet.

He watched your journey the whole time through your eyes, wholly captivated by your big, glossy fixation on him. When you blinked away the burn, he took no time to kiss them away.

Your body naturally relaxed, a twitchy and overstimulating process.

He slowed for you after he sucked the rest of your complicated tears up.

He was so heavy, so adamant on keeping your noise down that you couldn't tell him to stop. You weren't sure that you would try, even if he wasn't hindering your communication. The fact that you trusted him so much right now wasn't necessarily wise, but it felt right.

His growing intensity didn't hurt, but it didn't start to feel good until a raspy voice told you:

"Feels so good," He swallowed the spit gathered in his mouth and seethed, a light chuckle breezing past his lips, "You got no fuckin' clue."

That was just kind of sinful confession that gave you nervous chills even though he was already fucking you senseless.

He studied how your eyes clouded over at his words. A restrained, toothy smile nudged your jaw in a sugary kiss.

"I'm not gonna be able to get enough of you," He finally took his hand off of your lips and you were able to gasp at the impact of his words.

When he readjusted, he swept your legs up to his shoulders and dipped back down.

"A-Ah!" You barely choked out before he moved his hand back to its diligent place over your loud mouth.

He was so deep- you felt like he'd split right through you. Yet, you welcomed the possibility with the blessing of another steady-growing climax.

Yet, only one of you was so careless. He was so tender, so considerate because he could feel it, too. How fragile you really were in this position in regards to his size.

"God," He sighed at your loving stare.

"Gonna- ah, make me cum, lookin' at me like that," He groaned, a bit strained.

He finally dipped his head with closed eyes at the sweet, slick heat he just wanted to bury himself in. He couldn't get too carried away, now that it was starting to get difficult.

Your shitty stamina stroked his ego so much that he forgot he wouldn't be too far behind for a while. He got a bit ahead of himself and was paying for it with the climbing pressure in his stomach.

Your pussy was reason enough to fuck you harder, but that face was what really tested him.

His hand twitched at the compelling desire to hear you scream for him, but again, had to keep his sanity for the two of you. Next time he would make sure that brother of yours wouldn't be in the way.

He tried to keep an edge going, but found it laughably difficult to settle down.

If it wasn't your Fuck-me-harder eyes building up the needing to cum, it was your cute tits squished against your soft, scratched-up thighs, right under his chest.

It was impossible to keep himself from riding that high in the end.

As if to spite him, to completely spend all of his restraint, your watery eyes rolled back again. Your muffled whines filled his ears as you tightened once more around him, weaker this time but still more than enough to send him over the edge.

"G-od,fu-ck," He groaned, hitting just the right spot to fuck out both of your orgasms.

You felt him swell inside of you, his grip on your hand crushed yours back to the point that you couldn't claw him, his hips stuttered to a slow stop, deep inside of you.

A sense of satisfaction beyond the physical softened your face, your resistance between his fingers, and all your aching muscles. You weren't quite sure what it was, but didn't feel rushed to figure it out.

He was trembling when he released the lower half of your face, a beautiful sweaty and out of breath mess on top of you.

Once again, you gasped at the opportunity to breathe better.

He tensed up immediately and you flinched at the twitch of his cock inside of you.

"Shit- was I choking you?" He managed to stay worried right after he came.

You grinned, carefree on the backend of your own, and shook your head, "Mm-mm."

The look of unmatched relief that washed over him was supremely attractive.

He pulled himself out, slowly, and made a face at how much he came before turning to discard the tied-up thing into the trash with a solid toss.

You welcomed his cuddly shuffle up to your side by burrowing into his slippery chest, and sighed at last, "Cute butt."

That, of all things, made him uncomfortable. He cringed when you spared a glance up to his face from his chin. You rolled your eyes at his overthinking.

"You must be an athlete, or something--," You rubbed your face harder into his chest and felt his laugh resonate throughout your body.

It all felt natural. The joking, the cuddling, the winding down. You both forgot that you weren't together, let alone that you had only known each other for less than a week.

It was already warm with him next to you, but you were happy to be under the soft throw he found and pulled over.

"I can't believe you came twice," His soft laugh invited an embarrassed, but sharp look from you.

He clarified, "It's really hot, don't get me wrong--,"

"I'm not usually so easy," You half-joked.

A big, handsome guy that knew how to use his dick, went down on you, listened to you, and didn't shy away from a vibrator? It'd be a challenge to find a girl who wouldn't cum that quick.

You blushed under the cover of darkness at his gentle, comforting hold on your breast and reassuring kiss to the side of your neck.

The ache in your belly was evident when you were flipped over to be little spoon. It burned pretty bad and you couldn't exactly hide it.

"Did I hurt you--?"

"No," You muttered, clearing your throat, "No, I wouldn't say that."

He placed a big hand on your tummy, feather-light, and you looked over your shoulder to meet his perceptive gaze.

You sure as hell couldn't lie to this guy. He saw right through you.

You pouted and gripped your pillow. Of course you couldn't handle his dick the way you wanted to, the way you bragged about or even genuinely thought you could.

"You were so good," You admitted, a little sad in tone.

A warm kiss to the back of your head. He took the weight of his arm off of your sore body, sighing into your hair.

"You were, too."

He decided to drop the subject, since you both had strong opinions that seemed to clash.

You smiled.

You talked about a range of topics for the rest of the night. General information, first, then personal interests that turned into a long conversation about volleyball, then family history, then academics, then personality, goals, and attraction.

Soon it was 4 in the morning. You were eating popsicles from your freezer and discussing the adventure he had to get up to your window.

You both watched, trying your best to stay quiet, a minutes-long video one of his friends sent in the Karasuno volleyball group chat of him falling out of the tree outside.

A hand flew up to your mouth to silence your intense giggle-fit. You had no idea how you were going to keep something like this a secret from Tetsurou.

Before too long, the pain in your tummy was just an ache and the stranger in your bed turned into a lover overnight.

taglist:

ty for all the replies and reblogs and likes!! it means so much. it's really nice seeing all the other asahi appreciators out here!!

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere

@kreishin

@ruu-https @kasai-https

@40unung @deluluforcarlos55 @lili-harg @beyond-your-stars @noyaskneepad

@rinheartshyunlix @vintagevict0ria @am-3-thyst

<3 u are literally asahi mvp @screamin-abt-haikyuu

masterlist.

requests open!

[flwrkid14]

Jason Todd: Dad of Chaos and Protector of Twins

So here’s how it happens: Jason Todd, of all people, ends up adopting two chaotic teens—Danny Fenton and Tim Drake���who’ve both run away from their messed-up homes. How? It’s Gotham. Weird things happen.

Danny, after turning into a half-ghost and realizing his parents are never going to understand, flees to Gotham. At the same time, Tim decides to bail from the Drakes’ neglect and their obsession with using him as a trophy at galas. Somehow, the two runaways find each other in Gotham’s grimy streets and form an instant brotherly bond.

They both figure out how to survive together, avoiding Batman’s radar, until Red Hood comes across them while on patrol. Jason’s first instinct? Not to shoot, surprisingly, but to bring these kids under his wing because they remind him a little too much of himself—lost, hurt, and just trying to find a place to belong.

Next thing you know, Jason’s out there not just fighting crime but trying to figure out how to be the responsible dad to two ridiculously smart and reckless boys. One's part ghost, the other's got some serious detective skills, and both of them are trouble. Jason somehow becomes the father figure he never thought he’d be, teaching them how to survive Gotham (and keep their secrets from Batman), all while juggling fatherhood with crime-fighting.

Tim and Danny? Total partners-in-crime, literally and figuratively. They learn to use their respective skills to help Jason and protect each other. Danny’s ghost abilities? Perfect for scouting ahead or getting them out of tough spots. Tim’s strategic mind? Constantly trying to outsmart Jason (and usually failing, but points for effort).

Jason’s basically adopted these two feral geniuses, and while he’ll never admit it, he actually loves it. Sure, they drive him crazy—Tim with his overworking and Danny with his ghostly antics—but at the end of the day, they’re his family. And he’ll protect them, even from the Bat if it comes down to it. Because Jason Todd? He’ll go through hell and back to keep them safe.

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Not only should Ace be more of a feral unhinged jungle child who’s like barely wearing a mask of civility for convenience sake, but also: it should be kind of a Bit.

Like, Ace learned the absolute bare minimum of socialization (meaning, wipe your ass and wash your hands) from Dadan and the bandits, but that was literally it until he met Sabo. Ace knew like a sparse handful of words — enough to get his point across, but it’s not like he really wanted to have conversations with the bandits anyway — but the infinite majority of his early childhood was spent alone in the jungle. Then he teams up with Sabo, who arguably has too much socializing, and while they do trade skills and teach each other some stuff, for the most part they comfortably fill their niches. Sabo can do all the talking and manipulating for both of them. Ace is more than happy to stand at his shoulder and bare his teeth like the wild animal he is.

He asks Makino for a manners lesson literally exclusively so he can thank the dude who saved Luffy’s life, and then later when Sabo is gone Ace sticks with the lessons because now he has to be the brother who’s good at talking, and then it ends up being actually pretty convenient a skill to have, so he sticks with it.

But it is all very much pretend to him. Ace is putting on a front.

And I love thinking about the Whitebeards not only realizing the full extent to which their newest littlest brother was Literally Raised By Tigers but also that Ace is humoring them. He thinks they are the ones being ridiculous and crazy for all their societal rules (and they’re pirates! They barely even have those!) and he’s just playing along for his own entertainment. He’s making fun of them.

Ace runs up and playfully bites Thatch’s face as a greeting and while Thatch is yelling at him that people don’t do that Ace is just like oh haha that’s so silly you guys are so silly for that. Anyway. And then he bites Whitebeard, who just laughs.

[spxcecreature]

don’t get me wrong, i adore the hell out of the chaotic/feral side of hannigram so much -especially in regards to their sexual chemistry- but there’s something about how tender they are with each other. i can actually put into words -sort of- how their sexual chemistry plays out, but their love is literally transcendent. i love making all these jabs at them and their relationship because it’s just SO very queer, and they’re just SO ridiculous -and the show itself is genuinely just funny sometimes- but i haven’t seen a love like this on screen before. it pulls me back in every time.

[pinkponyglitter]

Dating Emily Prentiss Headcanons ᝰ.ᐟ

notes; this is silly, but i was reeeally bored and didn’t feel good enough to write anything else. also tumblr is acting up, and it pisses me off. btw, i did it for fun, so please don’t be pressed about it.

some of those are nsfw. you are responsible for your own media consumption. minors do not interact !!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she loooves to use pet names, especially the ones like; my love, gorgeous, angel, sweet/pretty girl. she doesn’t really like to be called anything other than emily or em. pet names are a must, but not when it comes to her. they’re reserved for you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she absolutely adores you. she is your biggest supporter in literally everything, and she is showing you off every chance she gets.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she doesn’t like to talk about her emotions, and she’s also not really good at it. she’s trying really hard for you, and she’s doing much better than before. she still has some days, when she just stuck in her head — but if there’s someone who can help her, it’s you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ physical touch is her love language. she absolutely devours intimacy. showering together, you sleeping on top of her chest. small stolen kisses when you’re at the office, sliding her hands into your jean’s pockets. brief touches. anything that keeps her close to you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ gifts, good restaurants and date nights. she always make sure to have at least two date nights in a month. she has money and she loves to spoil you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you always ask her if she has games on her phone, and that makes her absolutely feral — you know she doesn’t, but her reaction is always so funny and ridiculously exaggerated that you can’t stop yourself.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ “are you sure?” she always asks. even if she knows that your answer is “yes”. she needs to hear it every single time.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ cooking together — she’s obsessed with it, even if she’s not the best at cooking it’s fun to experiment with you. she often ends up calling rossi for help, and you always laugh at her trying to explain what went wrong.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ sometimes you just read together. you take one of your books, she takes of of hers and snuggling up with each other you have quiet time. you often break the silence to comment on something, and she’s more than happy to discuss it with you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ salsa classes! you didn’t want to, but she dragged you there, and at first you were super grumpy about that. everything changed when you saw her actually invested — you decided that you can make a foul of yourself from time to time, to see her smile. it’s worth it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she’s absolutely the worst at texting people back. you always remind her to keep you updated, especially when she’s away. she forgets a lot, or just sends you thumb emoji in response.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ showing weakness is the end of the world for her. she doesn’t understand why someone like you, would put up with someone as broken as her. so when she needs help, she hesitate to ask. after a while you start to catch up pretty quickly — she doesn’t need to ask anymore, you just know. it’s much easier for her to just receive.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she’s insecure about her scars. when you started dating, she delayed sleeping with you for as long as she could. sometimes you catch her touching her scars, just tracing on top of them with her finger. you always remind her that it doesn’t define her.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she was the one to say ‘i love you’ first. it caught you off guard, as she said that while you were crying — you were having a bad day, and she didn’t hesitate to fix it. she was whispering small affirmations into your ear, holding you close and the words just slipped out of her mouth.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she always compliments the smallest things. things that people don’t usually notice, or they just don’t care enough to compliment them. sometimes it’s the lipstick you use, sometimes it’s your hair, new perfume, new jewelry. something. anything. it’s like she can’t stop herself, so she finds the smallest things.

nsfw;

⊹ ࣪ ˖ slow mornings on days off equals morning sex. slow, tender, sweet — something different than you both are into normally, but both of you absolutely love it. in most cases you end in the shower afterwards, and that usually ends with another round.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she’s a dom. she doesn’t give up the power easily, so when she does you always make sure to give her everything you have in you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ she is absolutely obsessed with you calling her mommy. at first it kind of started as a joke, but then you decided to use the mommy card when you were really desperate, and surprisingly it worked — you never went back.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ hickeys are a routine, you almost always have at least one somewhere on your body. although, it’s never in a place that people can see, she does it for you and herself. only.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ office sex happens more often than you intend. you both know that you probably shouldn’t. hell, you shouldn’t. period. somehow you end up fucking in her office a lot. she loves to throw you on her desk, and fuck the attitude you give her at work out of you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you wearing her clothes is a huge turn on for her. if she could, she would climb the walls every single time you wore something of hers.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ getting you off is more than enough. she enjoys your body, the small gasps and moans. every sound you make is music to her ears. they way you shiver and squirm under her touch. it’s the best reward.

[unpunishablelamb]

hiiii!!!!! ও Im not sure if you still post creepypasta headcannons but I really liked the headcannons you gave the creepypastas, it's really nice to realistic headcannons, if you want I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the friendship of the reader and ticci Toby 0_o

(If I made any typos or used bad grammar I'm really sorry (◞‸◟ㆀ) )

Realistic Ticci Toby headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

A/N: Okeyy so for the friendship headcanons just ignore the NSFW part! I just decided to combine your ask with multiple anon asks who requested relationship/NSFW headcanons🫶🏻

SFW

-First of all he isn’t the one to settle down. He has a bad past with people and it’s incredibly hard for him to trust so he prefers not spending a lot of time at your place, if he ever goes there at all

-He’s basically homeless and probably squatting in abandoned places outside of smaller towns so if you ever want to spend a little more time with him it’s there or in the woods

-In contrary to popular belief i don’t think he is shy. He is very wary and kind of feral so physical touch is a hard one with him

-He is touch starved to some degree but then again he’s become so callous due to everything that has happened, that he won’t initiate or reciprocate for a long time. He won’t push you away either though

-I think if you ever share a bed/mattress with him, you might be woken up with a hatchet to your throat or a hand wrapped around it. At least in the first few months of your relationship, simply because he’s not used to having anyone around so he panics when he gets startled and his fight instincts kick in.

-Despite everything, i do think he’s very thoughtful once he warms up to you. I can imagine him leaving you things like rocks or trinkets he finds which remind him of you

-He’s really possessive no doubt. Hardly anyone has treated him with the smallest amount of kindness, and now that you’re in his life he won’t settle for less ever again.

-I can definitely see him being the type that wouldn’t let you get out of the relationship/ friendship alive in case you ever want to leave him. Either you stay with him or he kills you. Of course it would be hard for him to do since he “loves” you but the thought of you being with someone else, leaving him to rot, is much harder

NSFW

-I don’t think he’s had experiences before you which doesn’t make him shy but even more greedy

-I think it would take him a long time to trust you enough with something like that. He isn’t reckless or sleeps around but he wants to know that you won’t backstab him (literally)

-He knows how sex works, he’s not stupid and he’s watched campers in the woods do it, thinking they were being sneaky. Of course he couldn’t help imagining it was him and you

-Now that you conditioned him to get used to a certain degree of affection and physical touch he expects more, of course he does and you love him after all right?

-Let’s hope you’re ready to sleep with him when he wants you because i do think he’d pressure you into it

-I don’t think it’d be him getting physically violent but he’d try to make you feel bad for him, try to blackmail you, manipulate you etc.

-If that doesn’t work maybe he would wait until you’re asleep, start sliding his hand under your shirt and do his thing

-I think he’s decent in bed, clumsy at first and he’s so pent up that his pleasure is all he can think about at first.

-If you do criticise him make sure to be gentle about it, he’s insecure and he will get mad easily thinking you don’t want him but he does like you please you after all and he enjoys having you show him what you like

-Hickeys. Everywhere. Good luck trying to hide them because it will look ridiculous but he can’t help it. He has to make sure others know you’re not available

[gravehags]

the one who comes (richly endowed)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: rough sex, cum eating, copia in that goddamn white suit, oral (m receiving, through pants), semi public sex, ghoul voyeurism, masturbation, curator reader being evil

Words: 3,459

Summary: A series of sartorial events.

a/n: i am quite literally always saying how i'm going to suck copia off through those white lululemon leggings so you know. here you go.

~~~

“The eh, Ministry tailor wants to go over some of the tour outfits tomorrow afternoon. Care to join me?”

You yawn wide enough to pop your jaw and snuggle into the side of your lover, fingers raking through his abundant chest hair. He’s got a book propped up on his belly and his reading glasses perched on his long nose as he pauses every few moments to notate something in the margins or underline. 

“Yes please,” you say, leaning forward to place a kiss to each of the entwined 6s tattooed on his freckled pectoral. The action makes him chuckle, eyes briefly leaving the page to flick to you.

“You promise not to get too jealous?” he asks innocently, turning the page, “I mean these are the outfits my adoring fans will be seeing me perform in while you’re stuck here at the abbey. Who knows what kind of mischief I could get up to?”

You snort and sharply pinch his nipple, causing him to let out a ridiculously rat-like squeak.

“You’re not the only one who could get up to mischief,” you coo, “When the Cardinal’s away, the curator will play, hmm? I bet Terzo isn’t busy these days…”

Copia lets out a growl and removes his glasses, tossing them carelessly on the nightstand along with his book.

“What did you say?”

You’re trying so hard to bite back the evil grin that threatens to spread across your face as you lean away from your lover to flop onto your back and stare at the bed canopy above you.

“I think it’s only fair that I be allowed to seek out some ah…diversion in your absence. Particularly when you’re going to have your ‘adoring fans’ crawling all over you. Tell me, which of the Papas is best at eating pus–”

You don’t get to finish the sentence because Copia has rolled on top of you and situated himself between your legs.

“Dolcezza,” he leans in to growl in your ear, making a delightful shiver run up your spine, “Do not toy with me. Do not make me keep you tied to my tour bus bed with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air to use as I please every night, eh?”

You giggle warmly.

“I don’t know, sounds kind of ideal to me,” you purr, “To be so deliciously, divinely stuffed with your cum over and over after every show. What is it the siblings call me? ‘The Cardinal’s mistress’? And what is it the ghouls call me? Ah yes, ‘the Cardinal’s mate.’ Would you mate with me in that tour bus, amore? Loud and feral, for all your ghouls to hear? I think they’d like to wat–ah!”

Flinging back the covers and sitting on his haunches, he grabs you and roughly flips you over. 

“Piccola provocazione mia,” he sighs, rucking your nightgown over your hips and bending your knees, “If you wanted my cock so badly tonight–” he says, and you hear him yank down his sleep pants behind you, “--all you had to do was ask.”

You giggle into the pillow as he drags the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Much more fun this–ah!--way! Fuck, Copia!”

He’s bottomed out inside you before you can even finish your sentence and places a firm hand between your shoulder blades as he begins to roughly fuck you. You turn your head to the side to get some air and so he can hear every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“You–ah–want it like this? Bent over and spread open for anyone to watch? To listen? Tesoro, we should recruit you for–hngh–sex rituals. Who knew a sweet girl like you liked–ah–an audience?”

The snap of his hips against yours is ruthless and the sound of his balls slapping against you with each thrust drives another moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, Copia, right there! Feel so good baby, l-love it when you u-use me, ah!”

His hand on your back presses you further into the mattress, causing you to arch your back even more sharply. The new angle has starbursts exploding across your vision.

“Sei mio,” he grunts, his grip on your hip bruising, “And until the m-moment I leave for t-tour I’ll–ah–gladly remind you, s-si?”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you chant, pushing back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, “Mmm fuck, Copia, make me yours!”

His fingers abandon your hip to reach around and slide through your folds, moaning at how wet you are. When he brushes against your clit, you let out a sharp whine.

“Copia, please! Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh fuck!”

Your cunt spasms around him and you cry out as he brings you over the edge, his name on your lips. 

“Ragazza brava mia,” he moans, “My perfect girl, so good for me. Cazzo, I’m gonna cum, amore. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he pulls out of you, you whine at the loss but crane your head as far back as you can to watch him feverishly stroke his cock.

“Come on baby,” you pant even though your neck is killing you. “Cum on me. Mark me up.”

The sight of his fist rocketing along his reddened cock, slick with your juices has you grinding into the mattress, desperate for another release. When he cums with a shout, covering your lower back in spurts of his seed your body sags into the bed. You can hear his rapid breaths as he wrings out every last drop onto you and finally lets go to survey his handiwork. He drags his forefinger through the mess and you turn your head, opening your mouth obediently. When the warm digit meets your tongue, the salt of him on your tastebuds, you close your mouth around it and suck eagerly.

“What a deviant I have made of a sweet little virgin,” he marvels and you slide off his finger to swallow with a smile.

“Think I was a deviant even when I was a virgin,” you murmur, “You just encouraged it. But some of the fantasies I had…”

“Oh?”

“Get me a rag to clean this up then I’ll tell you all about them, my love.”

He does as he’s told, wiping up his seed and rejoining you in bed so you can assume your earlier positions. You make a bet with yourself about how many times the two of you are going to hunger for one another that night.

As always, both of you exceed your expectations.

–

“What do you think about this? Amore?”

“Hmm?” you look up from the binderful of sketches you’ve been browsing while your beloved and the tailor conversed in rapid Italian, “Think about what?”

Copia stands on a round platform surrounded by mirrors. The tailor leans up against the door and gestures to the Cardinal.

“It’s a good suit, no?”

You smile. Of course it’s a good suit. It’s the suit Copia was wearing the night of your first date. The night where the two of you grinded on each other and made an absolute mess of those trousers. Those lovely, snug trousers and the curve of–

“Amore?” Copia asks, and you see his mustache twitch in amusement.

“It’s great! I love it, did you um…change the material of the pants? From the original suit I mean.”

“Si, si,” the tailor nods, “the Cardinal requires pants with more stretch to allow for vigorous movement on stage.”

Mmm vigorous movement.

“So he’ll be wearing either of his cassocks and uh…this black suit?”

Once again the tailor nods.

“I also have made prototypes in two other colors. Would you like to see those?”

He’s asking Copia too but you interject to answer for him.

“Yes, please.”

“They’re in garment bags in the dressing room, Cardinal.”

The Cardinal gives the tailor a tight smile before turning to you and giving you a look. You smile and shrug. Better him than you, and the way he fucked you last night, you almost collapsed on the floor this morning when you got out of bed while he chuckled, the bastard. He deserves a little torture. A few more minutes pass and he comes out and does a little pose. He looks resplendent in a cardinal red version of the suit and you know you’re grinning like an idiot when he steps onto the platform, preening.

“Oh the red is good, signore,” you tell the tailor, who smiles pleasantly at you. “I think I like it even better than the black. What do you think, my love?”

Copia’s preoccupied with making stupid little muscle man poses in the mirror and you have to stuff your fist in your mouth to muffle your guffaw.

“Huh-wha…what was that, amore?”

“I said, how do you feel about the red?”

“Oh eh, si. Very nice. Vibrant. Is that all?”

“There is one more suit in the dressing room, Cardinale,” the tailor gently reminds him and Copia turns to give you a deep bow before retreating to his cubicle. You hear him disrobe and hang up the red suit followed by unzipping the last garment bag. There’s a shuffle of fabric and Copia makes an odd sound.

“I…I, eh don’t think I’ll come out for this one.”

You look to the tailor nonplussed, who looks to you, equally perplexed.

“Isn’t it just the same suit in a different color, hon?”

“Si, it’s just that it’s eh…” he makes one of his noises, “It’s…ah fuck it.”

When he opens the door and peeks his head out you smile encouragingly. That smile slowly drops as he slides out of the dressing room to stand on the platform, replaced with something more awestruck and hungry. True to the tailor’s word, it is the same suit, however this one is in snow white. He looks incredibly elegant but that’s not what occupies your mind - what occupies your mind is the hefty and defined curve of his cock and balls in those sinfully tight white pants.

“Well, what do you think?”

You let out a lewd gurgle and now it’s the tailor’s turn to muffle his laughter.

“Exactly. I don’t think I’ll be going with this one, signore.”

The string of filth going through your mind is interrupted by his words.

“What?! No!” you splutter, flapping your hands. “No, this one absolutely stays.” 

“Amore,” Copia stage whispers, “You can see my whole dick.”

“Yeah, and balls,” you loudly whisper back, “Which is exactly why you’re keeping it.”

“Sarto, will you eh, excuse me and the signorina for a moment per favore?”

The tailor silently nods with an amused expression and steps out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

“Dolcezza, I am supposed to be on stage in this outfit. I’m supposed to sing while wearing this. You want me to look like a…a Chippendale at these rituals?”

You cough to hide your laughter.

“Beloved, may I be frank with you?”

“Please.”

“People come to these rituals to be tempted, right? To dip their toe into what the Ministry has to offer? Copia I am being so honest with you right now when I say that this–” you gesture to what’s on display at the juncture of his thighs, “--in combination with the music? Baby, you’ll be beating new recruits off with a stick. Might as well have a sign-up booth outside the venue. If I were some wide-eyed, easily influenced young person and I walked into one of your rituals to hear you sing about being the one who comes richly endowed and coming into the daughters of men and whatnot? My love, I would swear myself to Satan for one corn chip if you asked.”

Copia nods slowly, considering.

“You…have a point, dolcezza. Kind of makes me wish I hadn’t met you until I became head of the Ghost project so I could see you front row at a ritual…oh the things I would do to you.”

“And you still can,” you murmur, setting the sketch binder aside, “Keep this outfit and I promise you I’ll visit you backstage at one of your shows. I’ll surprise you.”

“Done,” he says, slapping his thigh. A soft knock sounds through the room and the tailor opens the door.

“Everything good?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Molto bene, signore,” you say, “He’s keeping the outfit.”

“Ah, good, good,” the tailor smiles, clapping his hands together, “I was hoping you’d say that because I have a couple accessories for this one.”

You look to Copia, intrigued. The tailor produces a hat box and removes the lid, handing Copia a very dashing black fedora with a white band. The Cardinal places it on his head, looking devastatingly handsome as he poses in the many mirrors. The tailor disappears for a moment and then reappears to hand Copia a black cane with a silver snake handle.

“What do you think, signorina?” the tailor asks, hands behind his back. Copia turns to you and with an evil grin, slides the length of the cane along his cock then rocks his hips against it. Your jaw loosens and your eyes glaze over.

“Amore, the tailor asked you a question?”

“Hard. I mean good! Good! It’s all very good, thank you for indulging me, signore. Beautiful work but I expected nothing less from the man that makes his cassocks. You know, the way the fascia cinches him in and the fabric falls over his as–assets. Uh…”

The tailor coughs, hiding a smile with his fist.

“Grazie, signorina. And grazie, Cardinale. I’ll work on making duplicates of these designs at once.”

Copia nods and steps off the platform to return to the dressing room. A beat passes when you get up and scuttle over to the tailor.

“Is there any way you can make the pants um. Tighter?”

“I heard that.”

—

His veins are on fire, thrumming as he makes his walk off the stage post-encore. The crowd loves him. They love him. The little rat bastard Cardinal makes the beautiful young creatures of the crowd scream and profess their adoration. He’s feeling elated, high as he passes by two roadies and works his way backstage when he hears a low whistle come from a corner near some tour crates. When he looks he double takes because surely he must be dreaming. Surely his eyes must be playing tricks on him as he sees his amore slowly emerge from behind a box wearing that little half-smile you sport when getting up to mischief. Before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s running over to you - damn his sore muscles in need of a long shower - and into your open arms.

“Surprised?” you ask as you throw your arms around his neck. 

Immediately he buries his nose into your loose hair and a shudder rips through him as he’s enveloped in your scent. His hands roam your back, sliding down further to cup your ass and pull you into him.

“Mmm insatiable as always,” you mutter into his shoulder, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. The adrenaline of the evening matched with the way you’re gazing at him makes his cock stir. Your lips twitch upwards and eyebrow arches.

“Amore,” he growls, grinding against your belly, “Come to my dressing room so we can–”

“What’s wrong with right here?” you ask innocently, gesturing to the empty nook stacked with gear boxes. “I came such a long way for you, I simply can’t waste another moment.”

When you begin to lower yourself to your knees, his head tips back in a groan. Cazzo, he missed this. When he reopens his eyes he spots something in the darkness further behind you - a slender form in black and a flash of a silver mask.

Dewdrop.

He should tell you, should grab you by the shoulders and scurry away with you somewhere more private but he thinks about that day months ago when you said you wanted to be watched. Copia’s head jerks in a nod in the ghoul’s direction and he sees his mouth fall open in a pant. You’re massaging the meat of his thighs in your perfect little hands when he looks down at you.

“You’re distracted,” you murmur, blinking up at him, “Guess you haven’t missed me much after all.”

“Dolcezza, no!” Copia breathes, gloved hand stroking your hair, “Come up here and I’ll show you exactly how much I missed you.”

“No, no,” you say airily, and for a horrible moment he thinks he’s seriously hurt your feelings but then you look up and give him a sinister little grin that makes him throb.

“Did they like it?” you ask, trailing your fingertips over his clothed cock.

“L-Like it?”

“The white suit,” you say patiently, dragging your fingernails down his thigh. “How did they look up at you tonight, my love? Were they hungry for you?” 

You lean in to place a chaste kiss to his bulge that almost makes his knees give out.

“Will they go home tonight and fuck themselves to the thought of you?”

When you drag the flat of your tongue across his balls and up his cock he whimpers pathetically.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hmmm,” you ponder, thumb rubbing the head of him through his pants. There’s a sizable wet stain on them now from where he’s been leaking pre, “I was out there, you know. Watching. Saw the way you thrusted and fell to your knees and grinded on that cane. Saw the way they all panted for you. And you know what I was thinking the whole time, my love?”

He’s breathing heavy through his nose.

“No, a-amore.”

“I was thinking about how much I wanted to do this.”

You lean in and wetly latch onto his balls through the thin fabric and his hand flies to the back of your head. You’re giggling around him and the vibrations make him whimper.

“Fuck, amata mia, yes,” he groans, rocking his hips into your touch. Slowly you drag your tongue along his shaft and even through the material he knows you’re tracing the thick vein. When Copia tilts his head back in a moan, his half-lidded eyes fall on the ghoul in the shadows. Dew is still mostly obscured but even the darkness can’t hide the way his strong hand is sliding along the ridges of his hardened cock. His head is tilted downwards towards you - drinking in the way you look with your thighs splayed in that pretty sundress, your mouth suckling on the head of his Cardinal’s cock. Copia knows he won’t last much longer - not with how worked up he already was from the ritual and with their audience - and he looks down at you adoringly.

“Close, tesoro. Gonna–ah–gonna make me cum in my pants?”

Your lips pull off him for only a moment to give him a wide smile.

“Just like New Year’s Eve. Remember?” You place a hand on his bulge and begin stroking it. “The champagne burning in our veins? The way the curve of your cock felt nudging my clit through those red lace panties you like? How your fingers gripped me hard enough to bruise?”

“Si, si, I remember, I remember, amore,”

“You told me to make a mess of myself. I should have put those panties in your pocket but we already know how you like to steal them yourself, hmm?”

Copia makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine as his cheeks are flooded with red and his hips buck into your touch.

“Dirty old man,” you say with a grin, “Can’t help yourself can you, Cardinal? On stage, in my bed, right now under my hand and mouth–”

He feels the pressure building in his spine as you rub him frantically through his pants.

“--while your ghoul watches us.”

The moan that comes out of him is loud and long, hips rutting against your hand as he cums in ropes and soaks the white fabric. You’re cooing praise at him from your spot on the floor as he takes shuddering breaths. When he looks up, Dewdrop is gone but there’s no mistaking what’s spattered on the floor where he stood. Did you plan this? How could he have known? How could you have known? How–

“Hey,” you say, placing a little kiss to the wet stain on his crotch, “Help me up?”

With a start he bends over and lifts you gently by the elbows until you’re standing and stretching. Overcome with adoration, he grabs you by the back of the head and slots his lips against yours. His ragazza bella. His mistress. His perfect mate.

“So,” you say once you finally manage to pull away from him, “Show me that dressing room?”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

can i pretty please get a rum for cowboy!spencer reid. IM IN LOVE WITH YOU😻😻

Cowboy!Spencer Reid Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

my darling, I am in love with you, because this request made me feral. you're a person after my own heart. I can't be tamed. this has opened a door that cannot be locked. something about cowboys makes me want to claw at the walls

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

Cowboy!Spencer Masterlist.

- Thinks you're the biggest gift he's ever been given. Worships the ground you walk on. Tells you he loves you a hundred times a day. Brags about you to anyone that will listen.

- Decks you out in all the gear. Buys you your own hat, your own boots, thinks you're the cutest thing he's ever seen when you wear them.

- Goes a little feral when you wear his clothes. You steal his flannels, because they're soft and worn, and he loves it. Damn near falls off his horse when he sees you.

- Takes you for rides, especially at sunrise and sunset. Loves to feel your arms wrapped around him, safe and secure from behind. He's never felt peace like riding down to the river with you holding onto him.

- Teaches you how to treat and ride a horse. He's patient, gentle, so knowledgeable. Loves watching you get the hang of it.

- Huge on physical touch. Always has a hand in your back pocket, hand kneading the back of your neck, hand stroking the exposed skin between your shirt and your shorts. He's touching you 24/7.

and now onto the sexy stuff...

- Loves watching you ride him. His cock, his thigh, his boot, his belt buckle... if you're on top of him, he's happy.

- Can't handle the sight of you wearing his hat. They say you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy... which is exactly why you regularly steal it and place it on your head. You, fully naked except his hat... Spencer needs to hold onto the dresser for a minute, because he's about to pass out.

- Gets off on marking you up. You're gorgeous, and he's not oblivious to the fact you turn heads wherever you go. But he gets to revel in the knowledge that you have a bite mark on your inner thigh, a bruise sucked into your breast, and his fingerprints on your hips.

- Loves the risk. Will take you wherever he can, whenever he can. Likes to snake a hand just under your waistband when you're out dancing, stroking your skin gently. Likes to settle a hand on your ass when you're waiting at the bar. Who cares if everyone sees you leading him out by his belt buckle? Not the two of you, that's for sure.

- Will get up ridiculously early to go and tend to the horses just so he can come back to bed and fuck you awake. You're warm and sleepy and compliant and you have that dreamy look in your eyes when he slips back under the sheets, smelling like the outdoors. You plaster yourself to him and let him do what he pleases, molding and moving you exactly where he wants.

I could literally talk about this all day you guys I can't

as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! send me your thoughts, lovers <3

[thebibliosphere]

Tw: restricted medical diet, missing hunger cues, death, general food and chronic illness stuff. (It's a good post tho)

Being able to eat cereal again has unlocked something actually feral in me. I'm so used to not being able to grab a quick little snack that won't have Medical Consequences later that I've pretty much gotten used to just... turning my hunger cues off and running at a deficit of calories.

It takes me literal hours to eat a bag of crisps because if I don't eke it out, my body will reject it. I can't have most fruits because my body will reject them. Raw vegetables will send me to the ER. All the foods I can eat require labor, either past or present, and when you're already running on a deficit of energy from chronic pain and constant hunger, well, that's easier said than done.

But being able to do something as simple as eating cornflakes, either with or without milk, and not have my body go into an anaphylactic meltdown is... This is game-changing.

When I say it has awoken something feral in me, I'm being literal. It's hunger. I'm feeling hunger, and for the first time in literal years, I'm able to sate it without having to burn up precious energy to do it.

And it's just so achingly normal that it feels like it shouldn't be a big deal. It feels ridiculous to feel tearful over a thing like cornflakes. But when I consider the fact that in 2019, I almost died from malnutrition because my nervous system was shutting down, and I couldn't eat anything because my MCAS was so advanced everything was sending me into anaphylaxis I, I just. Yeah.

Crying over cornflakes on a Monday night.

Just MCAS 'remission' things... ✌

[witchofthesouls]

I've been seeing so many works about Optimuses gathered together across the universe, and yeah, there's the general consensus that the Optimi would side-eye Bayverse and his (violent) downward spiral, but c'mon!

Where's the side-eye towards TFP? I don't mean with the bromance between him and Megatron, I'm talking about TFP being his unintentional feral, awkward self.

Unlike his other counterparts, TFP had come from the boonies of nowhere and straight-up wilds, and then got his education from a recluse that's in so many political pies and skills from a multitude of people from a variety of backgrounds.

Like there are Things that TFP's friends, coworkers, close advisors, and teammates just... accept because it's Orion Pax/Optimus Prime.

He may have assumed responsibility over his collection of teens, but he isn't really close to them, so they don't see the shit that the others do. Even Smokescreen has moments where his thoughts are like, "Is this a Prime-thing? It must be a Prime-thing!"

Like give me the Optimus that will literally go into an in-depth discussion on the unique culture of each city-state can be stemmed by the Primes they either patroned or championed, but will straight up eat raw Energon crystal because there's a line at the convertor. 10/10 would lick a cave wall to determine its composition. (In fact, this is how Megatronus met Orion. This guy straight up took a bite of someone's art project/stupid dare because he couldn't understand egging pranksters and didn't drop from the inedibles of dark arts.) He likes long drives (makes sense, he's a convoy), free style rock-climbing off of cliffs (what), and can parkour off a ridiculous building (WHAT)

He's the equivalent of the human would eat the plastic imitation fruit and either politely say it's not his thing or finish it off if it was scented. The buff nerd that's weirdly quiet and would have the knowledge to homebrew pyrotechnics and utilize them if necessary. You would never expect this guy to be outdoorsy, he is. Very. Can tell people which wild plants or animals will cause vivid hallucinations or sleep paralysis in an offhand manner. Do not get this guy shit-faced: everything will become surreal.

[jynxpsiche]

Not Tangerine already planning on fathering reader's baby as his won, cause hey, the baby also has blue eyes so he can totally pass of as their son.

Also imagine if the real dad ever shows up and tries come back into the baby's life and Tangerine is all conflicted cause he loves the kid as if it's his own son :/

OH MY GOD THANK U SO MUCH ANON FOR REQUESTING THIS! LITERALLY CHEF KISS! We love a jealous Tangerine <3

Unwanted texts

💌. Summary: unanswered texts from her, lead Tangerine to meet someone he already despised…

or

…Tangerine meets the baby’s biological father for the first time.

💌. Warning: SWEARING. LIKE A LOT! Jealous Tangerine, female reader, canon gore. English is not my first language! I don’t know many British slangs!

X

c’mon babe

I just wanna meet the baby

be there for them, y’know?

pls answer me

It’s been already a couple of days and sometimes, during different hours of the day and night, your phone would ding with notifications…from him.

Your ex boyfriend.

The biological father of your precious baby.

The whole situation pissed you off. Firstly, when he found out about your pregnancy, he decided to leave without an explanation and leave you alone. Then he had the nerve to message you after god knows how many years.

It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

But obviously you couldn’t ask for any type of help from Tangerine.

He was quite the protective type, especially if the main cause was a shitty ex-boyfriend.

Surely he would have gone feral if he found out about your ex’s sudden texts. That’s why you decided to keep the thing for yourself and just…ghost him.

But who would have known that you would end up calming down a rather irate Tangerine?

However, it’s important to start from the beginning.

It was a day off for Tan, which meant that he would have spent the entire day with you and his little one. But since it was still too early to get up, for now he simply drank in your warmth and cuddled your body closer to his, without waking you up.

The curly man was affectionate only with his girl and his baby, neither to his brother he showed this side of his. He wasn’t ashamed of it, he just had a reputation to defend.

His chin was placed on your head while you were all nuzzled in the crook of his neck. His strong and bulky arms were tightly wrapped around your waist, not allowing you to leave. Not that you wanted to.

Only your soft breaths echoed through the room. But the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by the ping of a notification. The sound made him grimace, but not waking up from his slumber.

Then another ping, closely followed by another and another one.

Now Tangerine was fully awake, his half-closed eyes glaring at the device on your nightstand. When he noticed no more ding’s came from your phone, he softly pecked your forehead before trying to fall asleep again.

But then again. A new message.

Groaning softly, Tan lifted himself from the bed, before pecking your forehead again and assured that you didn’t wake up.

He was not standing on your side of the bed, the device on your nightstand calling for him to check what had interrupted his sleep.

With a furrowed and irritated expression, Tangerine unlocked your phone, noticing new messages unopened. They had been sent just a couple of minutes ago.

He quickly glanced at your sleeping figure, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. His expression furrowed more when he saw the contact’s name. X.

Who the fuck was that?

But he surely was took by anger when he read the multiple messages he sent you.

He wasn’t only a dickhead, but he was also the biological father of his son.

His bloodshot eyes read every line and every word of every message he dared to sent you. His fingers gradually tightening their grip around the device.

The another ding. Another message.

X

I know ur reading the texts

ur online

u finally have the courage to read what I’ve been sending you

u stopped ghosting me huh?

God you’re such a bitch sometimes…

His vision darkened at the last text he sent, nostrils fuming with rage.

X

I want to see the kid

Meet me here

Xx xx xx, xx

“Tan? You good?” Your sleepy and raspy voice reached his ears and immediately he turned towards you, his furious expression never leaving his face.

You noticed, of course. Slowly you rose from your spot on the comfy bed and lazily dragged herself up to his tense figure, wrapping her delicate arms around his waist.

A soft kiss on his back.

“What is making you so tense?” You whispered against his skin, your hands gently rubbing his sides. Tan slightly crocked his head in your direction, his brows still furrowed. A sigh left his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He instead asked with a low tone laced with rage. “Why did you hide it from me?” His tone showed how he strongly demanded an answer.

“I could have handle it. I simply didn’t answer his texts to show him how an insignificant being like him should be six feet under. To show him how he was a nobody to me anymore.” Your tone was flat, laced with venom, finally expressing all your suppressed rage.

His expression immediately softened at your words, his brows relaxing and the wrinkles on his forehead disappearing. The tails of his mouth slightly raised in an almost visible smile.

But you noticed it.

When he turned in your direction, his hands on your waist, his lips left a soft peck on your forehead. His face was calm and so close to yours.

“I’m goin’ to take care of him. Don’ worry.” He whispered, his soothing voice sending you in a sleepy mood. A light yawn left your mouth. He chuckled at your reaction.

“Now go to sleep love.”

After you fell into another peaceful but deep slumber, Tangerine got to work.

With Lem’s help (after calling him for twenty minuets straight, the poor man was sleeping) he managed to find the phone location and so the location of the fucker.

It was now 3:45 am and Tan was alone in a desert neighbourhood. Silence was his only company at the moment.

He stood still in front of an apartment complex, his eyes fixed on a specific window while the cigarette in his hand slowly burnt.

With a flick he tossed the small nicotine stick and put it out with a stomp of his foot. His lips were curled into an annoyed curl.

Silently, he climbed the fire escape with big steps and in a blink of an eye his shadow was printed in front of the covered window, blinds hiding the inside.

But a faint light from behind them immediately caught his attention, a sadistic grin creeping on his moustache.

His hand grabbed the gun from his pocket and he shot the window’s lock, allowing him to access to the apartment.

Frantic, disconnected noises echoed from inside. Tangerine knew the fucker heard him.

Only when he entered he was met with a younger, dull man, his face pale and his eyes wide from fear. “Who…who the fuck are you?!” He half shouted, his voice cracking a bit.

The man wanted to show his composure so bad, show him how collected and tough he was. But in reality, he was shitting in his pants.

With great strides, Tangerine approached the trembling man, his pistol clearly visible. “‘s not important, is it? Wha’ is important is why you fuckin’ harassing my love with your insipid messages.” He spat out in a hard tone, his rigid stare piercing the man’s soul.

The man’s eyes frantically wandered around, he is searching something to defend himself thought Tan. Quick pants from the man often broke the silence in the room.

He took a step back, his hands shaking uncontrollably. His body language was visibly betraying him. “Just…the fuck you want from me?!” He continued in a fake authoritative voice.

Tangerine held his face high, communicating how he was in control. Slowly his arm raised and he pointed the gun in the man’s forehead.

“I want you to delete her number, to forget about her and the baby and to never contact her again.” He stated with calm rage. His tone extremely sharp.

When the man was the pistol pointed at his head, his confident mask fell, his eyes filled with tears and his still standing posture crouched on himself. Shamelessly he nodded his head at every request, his voice dead in the back of his throat.

Suddenly, Tangerine shot the man in the leg and he stumbled back. A cry came out from his mouth.

“This’s your last warnin’.”

[sohnric]

bad idea, right? – k. sunwoo

pairing: soundcloud rapper! sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: exes to lovers, angst, suggestive. i know this is toxic as fuck dont @ me sometimes i like to write shit like this because it's realistic...

word count: 4k

warnings: a whole lot of arguing, swearing, both of them being toxic and childish, a heated makeout session, overall just..messy. so messy.

a/n: similivinlife u inspired this. not my proudest moment but oh well 😵 the original of this draft was for the fic dancing in my backseat on @rrxnjun that i didnt end up using and revamped for this, so if u see any similarities it is because both fics are mine :P and once again, as always, thank u @csenke my sweetest beloved for beta reading 🤍

“I don’t think you can imagine the things I have to deal with about that track, like, I was literally in the town yesterday and around six people stopped me and wanted the backstory and I don’t know what, and it’s really, really annoying–”

Your voice cuts off, being replaced by a beat that makes acid taste on your tongue and hair stand up all alert, like a feral cat’s would when you try to get close to it, making you immediately turn off the song, letting a scream out into your pillow. There’s a storm of emotions inside of you as you take the phone you’ve been listening to the new song on back into your hand and pull up his number– because you blocked him everywhere else in hopes of never seeing his face again– and shoot him an angry text about the matter.

you [7:21pm]: are you kidding me???

you [7:21pm]: you are really so damn egoistical for doing this 

you [7:21pm]: really don’t think about anyone else except yourself huh

you [7:21pm]: ignore my messages again like the last time and i swear to god i’ll send someone to beat your ass

Fingers quicker than your own thoughts, you hammer down the messages on the keyboard, laced with the fury that’s been shaking with you ever since you learned that he released a new track that included yet another one of your voice messages you sent to him. It was excruciating to listen to, to say the least– your dignity stripped away slowly, piece by piece with the unsettling realization that your personal matters are now out there in the open, for everyone to see and judge, for the whole world to pick apart and analyze. Which is kind of funny, considering the nature of your breakup– you’re not so sure his fans would like what they would find out about him, had they dug deep enough.

Not saying that you are innocent in this matter, of course– you just don’t think it’s really fair to not have the platform to tell your side of the story.

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: feisty one aren’t ya

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: what’s this about

Clenching your jaw as you stare at the messages popping up on your screen only a few minutes after yours get delivered– which is unusual for him, to say the least– you work your way through another angry reply.

you [7:25pm]: your song???

don’t pick up [7:25pm]: did you like it? ;)

A dry chuckle escapes your throat at the last message. Of course you didn’t like it. You weren’t really a fan of the invasion of your privacy. You didn’t like the fact that he once again used your voice without permission, letting the whole world listen to your angry words that were addressed to him and only him. What was there for you to like about the song? His cheesy lyrics? The way he acted like he was way above you, belittling you with the power he had over you with all those voice messages? 

you [7:26pm]: yes i loved the invasion of my privacy a lot, thank you sunwoo

you [7:26pm]: isnt this illegal? ill look into it

don’t pick up [7:27pm]: now you’re being ridiculous.. its just a song y/n :) 

Was he being serious? Just a song? What about the prying eyes staring at you whenever you walk through the campus? What about the whispering behind your back whenever you sit in the school cafeteria? The pointed fingers whenever someone recognises that it’s you– the one that dated the good-for-nothing Soundcloud rapper and then broke his poor little heart. Was it ever really just a song?

you [7:28pm]: you cant be fr rn..

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: ah…let’s just talk abt it then

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: i’ll pick u up at 8? 

Staring at the messages on the screen, you let out another dry chuckle. The skin of your fingertips tingles when you swipe across the surface of your phone, opening the messaging app once again and tapping on the little bubble on the bottom, making the keyboard appear. The gears in your brain turn in swift motion as you try to sound nonchalant in your response, typing and deleting the message again, never getting the tone quite right. 

Responding to your ex boyfriend’s jabs and teasing in person seems to be easier for you, contrary to popular demand– you don’t have much time to think of your answer before the time frame between your arguments would turn too awkward with the silence, so you just say the first thing that comes to your mind. It comes naturally to you, though, and while you don’t particularly enjoy the fury and adrenaline that his smug smirks and jarring words make you feel, the tension his sudden messages built up only makes you more hesitant. 

You haven’t met up with Kim Sunwoo since the day you ended things, and you know damn well there’s a good reason for it.

Seeing him around campus or at parties of your mutual friends is a whole other thing than being with him in a closed space, all alone. It’s been a month since you ended things and while you are fairly certain that Sunwoo is a major jerk that is out to ruin your life, you can’t really tell if you’re actually over the major jerk that is out to ruin your life.

Seemingly letting Sunwoo know that you have the chat open, letting him watch your chat bubble pathetically appear and disappear in consistent time intervals, another quick message is shot your way, making your heart drum against your rib cage in even swifter motions. Running your hand through your hair, you sigh and drop the phone into your lap, helpless.

don’t pick up [7:40pm]: i’ll take it as yes

Sighing to yourself, you stand up from your bed and put on some presentable clothes. You don’t want to give Sunwoo any ideas, and that’s why you only change into clean sweatpants and a tank top, not putting much effort into your appearance at all. You need to send him the signal of being nonchalant– although your stance on the way he uses you in his songs is full of anger and resentment, you don’t want it to seem like you care much about the man himself at all.

Dragging yourself out of your room and putting on your shoes, you bump into your roommate Aeri passing you by with a mug of tea, her hair in a towel as she just came out of the shower. “You’re going somewhere?” 

“Going out,” you grunt.

“Oh?” she hums, leaning into the doorframe, “with who?”

The question catches you off guard. Turning around on your heel, you flash her an innocent smile, brain thinking of every possible solution you could use to not tell her that you’re going out with the exact person you’ve spent the last few weeks grunting over in dismay. “No one important,” you start, when her face morphs into a distressed frown.

“Is it Sunwoo?”

“Look, I-”

“It is fucking Sunwoo! I heard you scream into your pillow just now, I should’ve known it was that prick again,” she grunts, her guess confirmed by the very obvious discomfort on your face, suddenly in a hurry when you try to get out of the house in one swift motion and save yourself from the cross-examining conversation that’s surely about to happen judging by the look in Aeri’s face.

“I gotta go-”

“What about all your ‘I don’t ever wanna see him again’ talk?” she sighs, clearly disappointed with your life choices. 

“Look, it’s about the songs he’s been putting out. He’s being an ass about replying back to my messages and god knows I’m not calling him, or else he’d record it and put it in another song like the freak he is,” you squint your eyes at her, making sure your intentions are clear to your worried roommate. 

“Oh, right, because he’s going out with you just to talk,” she mutters, “when all you two have done since you broke up is argue. Mhm, seems about correct,” Aeri adds, making the situation even worse than it already was, because she’s right, after all– when have the two of you held a normal conversation in the past few weeks? Seeing him tonight might just be the worst idea of your life– right after deciding to date him, of course– and you’re completely aware of the fact.

Opening your mouth to answer with a jarring comment meant to put your roommate back in her place, the words are taken off your tongue when you hear the ring of your phone, the notification on your screen flashing with his messages.

don’t pick up [8:04pm]: youre 5 mins late

don’t pick up [8:05pm]: come out

“Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later,” you mumble as you take your bag off the hanger, Aeri’s disapproving eyes following you as you head towards the door. 

“Right. Have fun,” she ironically sings, knowing very well what Kim Sunwoo’s intentions are for the night. Still, you fakely gag to her comment before you’re out the door and walking down the entryway.

As your figure walks out of the apartment complex, you almost don’t notice the man. You were expecting him to be waiting just behind the door, resting against the wall as he usually did back when you two were dating. The sight that meets your eye shocks you a little when you find him leaning against a 2007 Audi A4, the silver exterior of the car contrasting with the darkness of his clothes, hands folded on his chest as he watches you with an overly-confident smirk. 

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you finally cut through the distance. 

“Didn’t know you were so eager to see me,” you bite back, eyes scanning the vehicle. “Did you finally get a car with that new profession of yours? Or is that another one of your friend’s again?” you point towards the car, making the boy chuckle.

“Mine,” he says, “my ‘good-for-nothing career’ is taking off, as you may have noticed,” he hums, referencing all the arguments you two used to have about his dreams and ambitions, making you wince a little at the comment. You never believed in him ever making it big– you just didn’t think his dreams were ever really realistic– but judging by the way it’s been going for him, you must admit you may have been wrong with your snarky arguments before.

“Well, it’s not much, then,” you mutter instead, pretending to judge the state of his old, used-looking car.

“Gets the job done,” he shrugs as he peels himself off the door, opening the passenger side and sparing you a short glance. “Hop in?”

Sunwoo doesn’t wait for you to sit down so he can close the door after you– instead, he walks around the front of the car to the driver’s side, getting in himself– much to the gentleman he’s always been. Making sure you slam the door shut with as much force as you can, just to anger the man and his new toy, you fasten your seatbelt and watch as Sunwoo winces, but doesn’t mention it when he turns the engine on with a turn of the key and drives off the parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, watching as the male snickers to himself. The calmness of his composure makes you oh so annoyed, making you despise every second spent together with him in the small space breathing in his cologne and listening to the songs playing through the speakers, reminding you of the playlist he’d always put on when he was given the privilege of the aux cord.

“What? Are you scared I’m gonna kill you?” Sunwoo jokes.

“Seeming that you’re batshit crazy, one can’t know what to expect from you nowadays,” you grunt, making him cheese with amusement.

“I thought I was just ‘a loser Soundcloud rapper that can’t do anything in life’,” he repeats to you a sentence you uttered out upon your breakup, the emotions getting the worst out of you after the way he’s been treating you. “Would a loser like me kill you? I don’t think so.”

“Very funny, Sunwoo,” you ironically bite back, rolling your eyes at his composure. The fact that he seemingly has the upper hand on you in the conversation makes you falter a little bit. “I just wanted to talk about the songs you’ve been putting out.”

“You wanted to tell me how much you like them? Thank you, I’m flattered–”

“No, you idiot. I wanted to talk to you about how uncomfortable they’re making me feel!” you yell out, making the male wince. 

There’s a momentarily silence in the car as the male drives, the streetlamps disappearing out of sight as he drives away from the city, into more sparse areas. His voice is a little more serious when he speaks up now, the lack of teasing in his tone making shivers run down your spine. “I don’t think it’s that serious, really.”

“Really?” you chuckle. “Because I don’t find it fun when people stop me on the street and ask all about our relationship, Sunwoo. Because I don’t know if you noticed, but you never asked for my permission when you used those.”

The sound of your own voice resonates through your brain, the first voice message he ever used in one of his songs (the one that made him finally more popular, funnily enough) making you sigh out in the darkness of the car. ‘Just.. I dunno, I said sorry, I apologized, I don’t know what more you want me to do.. like, what’s going on? Literally nothing, so like.. can’t we just… move on from this and… fucking let it go?’

“One would think you’d stop sending me these after the first one,” Sunwoo utters out, voice low and almost a little amused, which makes you tip over the edge.

“And I would think you wouldn’t use audio of me being vulnerable with you in a fucking song that everyone would hear, Sunwoo!” 

“Oh, did you mean that part where you called me a hypocrite for hanging out with my friends from high school without telling you? Or the part where you cursed me out after you broke up with me because I dared to text you again–”

“I was trying to pierce things back together!” you yell, making the male quiet down, resulting in taking a right turn towards a dead-end, the road approaching a forest. Not a single soul is to be found around here except the two of you, and when he turns the engine off, but stays staring ahead of him towards the trees, you continue with everything you’ve been holding inside of you– instead this time, your voice is more quiet, not having to scream over the sounds of the car anymore.

“I was apologizing. I was trying to make us work, Sunwoo. And just because you didn’t see it or didn’t have it in you to pay attention to me that night, it doesn’t give you the right to exploit me for your gain and make a fool out of me in front of everyone,” you say, watching as the male chews on the inside of his cheek.

“You are the one that broke up with me,” he says into the silence, “not the other way around.” 

A moment of silence hangs over you two like a heavy jacket. You were well aware of the fact– you broke up with Sunwoo after the night he went out with all of his female friends from high school, not telling you a thing about it before you found out through an Instagram story of one of them. You knew he was being petty, you knew he was doing it just to get back at you– because you never passed out on a chance to make him feel jealous, getting back at him for all the controlling comments he would make whenever you went out to clubs with your girlfriends– but it still drove you up against the wall and made you break.

Maybe you and Sunwoo weren’t made for each other. There’s no denying that you loved each other– you just didn’t really know how to handle your relationship. You never really learned how to handle problems. How to resolve issues. Both of you were too immature for the other, and it would never work– you only came to this conclusion after many tear-filled evenings, but coming to peace with it is still yet to come.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

The male scoffs, turning his head towards you, meeting your eye. “Did you even listen to the songs?” 

“Of course I did, how else would I know–”

“Then you must have noticed that I’m not making fun of you, or putting you on blast, or belittling you, or whatever you and your friends have said about me for the past month,” he counts on his fingers as he recites the words with an annoyed tone, big eyes bearing into yours. 

“You exposed me being vulnerable.”

“I’m vulnerable in these too!” he urges out, eyebrows furrowing at you in exasperation.

“That’s your fucking choice! Don’t drag me into it!”

While you must admit that none of the lyrics Sunwoo’s ever written about you were lies, or making fun of you or throwing harsh words in your direction, you still feel as if a chunk of you has been thrown out in the open, for anyone to pick apart and poke around. You always told Sunwoo you liked his way with words, and there is no denying that his lyrics, although they were painfully honest, were quite beautiful. If you weren’t the one the songs were about, maybe you’d even like them. Maybe you could give them a listen without feeling like you want to crawl out of your skin. Maybe you could add them to your playlist without feeling ashamed that you’re still thinking about the male, picking apart your relationship like every outsider has been doing since the songs went viral, but instead, finding places where you could’ve done things differently and kept him by your side.

It was hard to listen to his words and see the reflections of your past flashing in front of your eyes like a movie. While you admit that he did the timeline of your relationship justice, you do despise the fact that his words are getting to you so much. 

You don’t like hearing about the things you’ve done wrong. You don’t like listening to him apologize– although he would never do so directly. You don’t like to hear him say that he misses you, because it makes it hard for you to keep your fair distance from him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking… Can you drive me home, Sunwoo? We’re clearly not on the same page about this,” you say, averting your gaze from him towards the window.

“No.”

“Sunwoo, can you please drive me–”

“Not until we talk about this, no,” he says firmly, watching you foam over with fury.

“What else is there to talk about?”

“Us!”

“There’s no us anymore, Sunwoo! And I think it’s the time you come to terms with that and stop abusing our failed relationship for your stupid songs,” you bark, throwing daggers into his skull with your fierce eyes.

“So you get to go and post angry tweets and badmouth me in front of your friends, but when I cope in a perfectly respectful manner, it’s wrong?” he argues, scoffing and shaking his head at you.

“God, you’re unbelievable. You’re comparing two vastly different things–”

“Do you not like the songs because you feel exposed, or do you not like them because I’m saying exactly what you don’t want to hear?” he asks, eyes bearing into yours with such heaviness you feel like you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Like what? That you think I regret breaking up with you?” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Why else would you pick a fight with me every time I call? Why pick it up at all?”

“Why do you call, then?” you challenge him, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The male leans closer to you, sparks dancing in his eyes when his voice resonates through the car like a low thunder, making the tips of your fingertips buzz and your heart beat faster.

“You know exactly why I call.”

“To make me angry and get me to scream at you?”

“If that means I get to talk to you,” he shrugs, a subtle grin overtaking his features, a churn of your stomach warning you of the dangerous area you just entered.

Eyes never breaking contact with his, relishing in the way his hungry gaze picks you apart, you attempt to conceal your true feelings with an annoyed comment. “This isn’t going anywhere,” you muse, “god, I never wanna see your face again.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, teasing you. “That’s what you said last time,” he says, “so what are you doing in my car then, babydoll?”

The pet name makes your stomach drop, the lightness in your head coming back to you as you furrow your brows at the male, trying hard to come up with a smart remark. Your brain turns into liquid and there’s buzzing in your ears as you try to focus on staying calm and true to your best judgment, but the moment Sunwoo’s head leans even closer to your face, his words render you both speechless and thoughtless as he mutters a sentence that’s barely louder than a whisper, yet powerful enough to pull you in.

“Stop fighting me for once, will you?”

Your lips are pushed against his with force, the kiss mirroring the essence of being starved of each other for the past month. His plush lips move against yours with the skill that only a man you’ve spent tens and hundreds of nights kissing would acquire, his hand placed on your jaw to steady you, adjusting the pace of his kisses just the way you always liked it. 

A force that’s greater than yourself brings you out of your seat and into the driver’s lap, giving the male better access to your throat as you settle comfortably under your newly acquired human chair. His strong thighs flex under you when you thread your fingers through his hair, bringing him back up to connect your lips together before he breathlessly pulls away, gazing at you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Why did we even break up again?” he jokes.

You reply to him with the same lightness of your tone, shrugging. “Because you were a jealous, possessive prick and I had a short temper that always egged you on?” you say, watching as the male pretends to ponder on the information, humming to himself.

“I think I can put that past me.”

“Can you?” you joke, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb, a sly smirk playing with your lips as you lean over him and press a firm, yet short peck to his swollen lips. “Or will you make another mediocre song about it?”

“Don’t call them mediocre,” he squints at you, eyes tracing your face when your hands slip further down his face to cradle his jaw, thumbs padding his lips.

“I easily outdid you on your own song, Kim Sunwoo.”

“That’s why I add you in, actually.”

“Really?” you snicker, tone full of fake disbelief. His hands hold your sides when you lean over the man and latch yourself to his neck, dragging out kisses up and down his warm skin. “Will you make a song for each of our arguments, then?” 

Teeth scraping the skin of his throat, you find the male humming under you in pleasure and satisfaction. He has you right where he wanted you– and although this is not how you imagined the night to go, you don’t find yourself disappointed with the turn of events. The previous annoyance is still there, but now is shielded by the need in you, the longing for him you can’t really battle whenever he is around.

Settling deeper against his body, you feel the male slip one hand into your hair, tugging at the roots of your hair gently to bring your face back to his, averting your attention away from the love bites you’ve been placing on his skin. 

“Unless you give me another topic to write about,” he suggests, his hungry lips swallowing your reply. 

You and Sunwoo were never really good for each other. Too messy, too turbulent, but too consumed with the other to ever truly let go. Seeing him tonight surely wasn’t the best of your ideas– but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t silently hope the evening would turn out this way.

You and Sunwoo were never the ones to make good decisions when it came to the other one anyway. What’s one another badly calculated step in your relationship gonna do?

[peggyrose19]

maxton hall is really great cause the first 2 eps go about like (spoilers btw)

ruby: accidentally finds out about lydia's secret relationship

james, Twin Protection Mode TM unlocked: i'll handle this

so then he kinda

james: take this ridiculous amount of money and never tell anyone

ruby: literally just trying to get through the school year and make it to oxford

ruby: you arrogant prick i don't want your money

james: 👹 idk what game you're playing but i plan to destroy you 👹

ruby: 🤨 dude just stay away from me

and then after some more plot it goes

ruby: apologizes for verbally eviscerating him in class

james: what is this, kindness?! i will now do whatever you want 😍 oh oh i'm falling in love 🥰

and then it takes 3 more episodes before they even kiss! 3 episodes watching james fall so head over heels for this girl it made him look stupid lord he wants her so bad this man went from feral anger to feral lust within the span of about 90 seconds and i love that for him. i want my fictional men on their knees for their partners, hopelessly devoted and wrapped around their finger, or i want nothing. whores the whole lot of them

anyway i rewatched the series yesterday

[uselesssomebody]

Hi! I saw your post asking abt Miguel fanfics, and id love to read a fanfic abt spider-man 2099! Could you write a fanfic (can be as much fluff, angst, or smut as you want) where F!reader is SpiderWoman, and goes to catch an anomaly with Miguel; her partner that’s slowly becoming fond of reader, yet doesn’t want to admit it. During their mission, reader gets hurt and Miguel confesses while treating her wounds, thinking she’s unconscious and he’s scared to lose her- even to see her hurt. If not that’s totally fine Ill read anything you publish!

𝕞𝕚 𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕠 - miguel o'hara x spider!reader

complete masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

words || 𝟛.��𝕜

summary || in which miguel makes a confession when he thinks reader can't hear him

a/n || grumpy x sunshine trope but plot twist, he's a total simp (reader is too tbf)

➵ thanks for the request anon! very cute love this trope a lot, and hope you enjoy. also your last sentence is literally such a massive compliment for me you're so sweet i love you <3

➵ my tiktok is disrespectfully feral (like him) about this man what the fuck

➵ a bit of spanish in this one, all thanks to a lovely user on here! for non-spanish speakers, translations are below the warnings.

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smidge of angst

translations

➵ mierda - shit

➵ mi cielo, por favor no puedo perderte - my darling, please, i can't lose you

➵ también eres mi cielo - you're also my darling

miguel o'hara was a man of few words.

miles could attest to it, alongside gwen, pav, hobie, and peter b.

the lot of them liked - nay, loved - to talk, so his stark silence always seemed out of place, and his long pauses in between words owed to a lot of shifty stares between the group, or awkward silences. thus, the only person who really got along with him was mayday, who could happily spend every moment of her day babbling nonsensically at him as he desperately tried to keep her from crawling all over him.

that was one of the few things he was very bad at.

so, it was a complete shock to gwen when she could hear animated talking from miguel's... uh - lair? platform? she wasn't sure what exactly it was yet. in her intrigue, she grabs miles - the poor guy trying to grab a bagel from the cafeteria - and tells him to follow her. his brows also furrow at the noises, and they decide to wait a moment before alerting miguel to their presence.

"that's ridiculous!" his voice is loud, incredulous, and it causes the other person - a decidedly feminine voice - to ring out in a laugh.

"you're so unimaginative. think big, o'hara! sure, it's complicated, but it's the perfect plan." her tone makes it obvious there's a smile on her face, but what surprises them in that miguel sounds like he also has one on his face. gwen looks shocked. she didn't know he could smile.

they both suddenly feel a palm on their shoulders, and they yelp in surprise. pav's excitable voice greets them, asking what they were doing. miles desperately tries to get him to lower his voice, but it's too late, as the door is already sliding open.

miguel looks at the three of them, a little unimpressed, and she waves at the lot of them from behind him. the platform begins lowering at a snail's pace, and miguel waits stoically for it to reach ground level. impatient, and having already been subject to the move several times, she rolls her eyes, shooting a web out from her wrist to reach the tall ceiling and gracefully lowering down to them. miles found it very poppins-esque.

"hey guys!" she mumbles cheerfully. though pav's face is covered by his mask, she smiles at his obvious beam behind it, ruffling his hair as she comes to stand next to them, looking up to see miguel still being lowered down, "any day now," she jokes to the three teens, and miles snorts at the sarcastic comment.

"can i... help you?" miguel raises an eyebrow as his platform finally reaches ground level. he eyes the younger spiders inquisitively. miles and pav look between each other, not really sure now why they were here, and gwen speaks up.

"it's earth-587 - they had an alchemax breach, and the home spider needs help stopping the burglar." she speaks quickly, having been tasked by jessica to alert miguel of the news. she'd been steadfast in the communication, of course, until she'd been distracted by the sounds of laughter - she still couldn't believe it - that she heard.

miguel looks at her sternly.

"we're not mall cops, a burglary is hardly an issue." he drawls, still unimpressed. she stands up a bit straighter.

"the villain is some rich megalomaniac who wants to hop dimensions in order to accumulate more wealth." she deadpans, and miguel looks at her, slightly more interested.

"alright, yeah. drew told you to tell me? let her know i'll handle it." gwen nods, before turning to leave with miles and pav. as they do, so too does the woman he was talking to, waving animatedly.

"that sounds fun, o'hara. bye!" before she can take more than a few steps alongside the teens, they all hear the spongy sound of a web being shot out, and she stops in her tracks, before being dragged back. miles yelps in shock, not realizing what was happening, before coughing to give off an impression of nonchalance, making gwen chuckle behind her hand. pav laughs at the woman's decidedly deadpan expression as miguel pulls her back towards him with the web.

"not so fast. who do you think i'm sending out to catch him?" he mutters, as the teens finally step out. she rolls her eyes.

"i feel like i do all your work for you." she mumbles sarcastically. he releases her, turning around and not acknowledging the comment.

"sure you do." he responds, matching her tone with ease.

as the teens step out, pav is grinning behind his mask. miles looks at him quizzically, and gwen begins walking forward, already knowing what he's gonna say.

"so, how long are we saying?" he asks animatedly, "one month? two months?"

"what?" miles asks, honestly befuddled.

"he's guessing how long o'hara and that girl have been together," gwen answers, already knowing a lot about pav's tendency to see romance where she wouldn't or couldn't. what surprised her, though, was miles' immediately agreement.

"thank god i wasn't the only one!" he exclaims, immediately beginning to chatter away with pav in solidarity.

"alright, boss," she salutes, stepping onto his platform, "what's the plan?" for a moment, miguel doesn't respond, simply looking at her, before she snaps her fingers in front of his face, "hey! you fall asleep, o'hara?" miguel shakes his head, sighing in exasperation, as she laughs to herself. though he shows his annoyance while looking at her, as he turns to pull up the fact file of that universe, a small smile graces his lips, appreciating the sound of her laugh and the way it looks on her face.

she leans over his shoulder - or, she tries to, before seceding to his tall frame and instead peeking past his arm - as she raps her fingers in an anticipating manner over his bicep. usually, he didn't love people touching him - having to deal with an overly ecstatic peter b. on occasion - but he didn't mind anything about her, in all honesty.

realizing this, he sighs harshly, hoping she doesn't comment on it, as he scolds himself for getting distracted. he had one of, if not the most important jobs in the multiverse, and he couldn't allow himself to feel so vulnerable around - a coworker, essentially. but, goddamn, did she make him smile. she was the only one who did, he was sure. he tries to ignore it, though it becomes increasingly difficult as her pretty side profile moves past him, reading the file intently. pretty? fuck. he was gone.

she looks over at him expectantly, and he blinks, hoping his staring wasn't too noticeable, "so... he's created a gizmo." she knew it poked him when she called it that, as he now found the name a little cringy. she disagreed. she thought it was cute.

she thought he was cute.

well, maybe cute wasn't the right word - it's hard to call a 6'7" guy who's built like that cute - but somehow, he was.

when she first met him, he was damn stoic and quiet - only focused on his job. and she understood - of course, the fate of universes could lie in his decisions. she, at first, was just glad to have been allowed into this elite society, so she kept her nose in her work, not straying far from it. soon, though, as she established herself as not only highly skilled, but also highly successful in her assigned missions, she took the opportunity to be herself around the others, knowing her nonchalant and jokey attitude wouldn't be enough for her to get reprimanded anymore. more importantly than that, she started seeing miguel a lot more, as he went from her boss - some guy a huge distance from her - to someone much more equal to her.

that led to the relationship - uh, working relationship, anything else she simply wished for - that they had: handling the big bads of the multiverse together. as partners. she was ecstatic at the idea, happy that her skill was being appreciated, and excited to know her work would be more valuable.

but then she met him. the - well, more - real him.

she was shocked to learn the man could laugh, the first time he let her signature spiderman humor - that she technically shared with most other versions of her - penetrate his cold and determined exterior. it wasn't exactly a laugh - more of a chuckle/snort - but it was more than enough for her to double take, and then smile.

as they set out on more missions together, she obviously appreciated his determination, strength and wit, but she really enjoyed those moments of softness, or when he'd react to her sarcastic humor.

and, of course, that time he had to hold her on their way back from that mission where she twisted her ankle was painful but very - uh, memorable.

she snaps out of her thoughts as he enlarges the information about both the villain's suit and universe-travelling machine.

"something like that," he starts, examining it further, before turning to the information about his suit, "his suit is built to withstand and reduce the effects of multiversal travel, and his defense and weapons seem to be modified military gear. so bullets and vests that just handle or deliver more damage." he mutters, and she nods.

"so - nothing too crazy." her confidence makes him smile, and he nods.

"yeah, sure." he looks over the information again, before shrugging, "a attack from the front and the back should be enough - front distracts while back webs. right?" he decides, nonchalantly. she grimaces.

"don't talk to me about your back webs," she jokes causing him to roll his eyes.

"understood?" he reiterates. she nods, saluting.

"yes, sir. should be home for dinner - heard they're serving empanadas!"

they were not back in time for dinner, much less in time for empanadas.

she'd decided it'd be easier for her to bait out the villain, knowing that most wouldn't take so kindly - nor give a moment of hesitation - to someone of miguel's build and stature. and it'd been fine, until miguel's overconfidence had led to only one of his hands being properly webbed up, allowing him to reach for his modified gun with its modified bullets. he had pointed it as miguel had his back turned, smiling down at her as he called over 587's spiderman to pick him up. she'd noticed before he could, pushing him out of the way before he could react. usually, she wouldn't be able to, but his shock left his position malleable, and his eyes widened - time slowing - as he could see the bullet puncture the side of her stomach.

he shouts out her name, reflexes working to catch her before she fell, and the sharp cry of pain she let out caused his heart to drop. he was pretty sure he had growled, shooting a web precisely at the villain's arm, and wrenching the gun from his grasp, only a hair away from doing something he'd regret. when a small "wait-" tumbles between her labored gasps, he places his anger to the side, immediately letting her squeeze his hand to power through the agony. he looks at her in confusion, wondering how the hell a bullet was causing her so much pain - especially with her spider-healing - but then remembered the modifications listed in the file - including increased damage. he breathes raggedly, completely unsure of what to do, as spider-587 swings past him, a little too excited for his liking.

before he can snap at the kid - he sounded like a college student, honestly - 587 notices her weakened health, coming to kneel beside the both of them. seeing the situation, he swallows harshly.

"uh - take her back to my place while i bring this guy in." he quickly mutters his address, and miguel nods gratefully, immediately picking her up, desperate to ensure that she can get patched up. he swings through the familiar-but-not streets of manhattan, clutching her tightly to him, as she does the same, worried about falling, but confident he wouldn't let her. his heart-rate quickens as he feels her tight hold on him weaken, a sign of her diminishing strength.

the window of the small apartment kitchen is open, and miguel slips inside, less careful than usual to be quiet, focused wholeheartedly on getting her situated. he slips into the bathroom, setting her down on the cold, tiled floor. she winces at the uncomfortable angle he has to have her in as she slumps against the wall, trying to take quick, deep breaths, but wincing whenever her chest rose. miguel desperately searched through the small bathroom's tiny cupboards, finding a first-aid kit. her eyes blink up at the stark green of the casing, a sigh of relief ghosting past her lips.

"you're okay - you're alright, just relax, okay?" he mumbles, tone uncharacteristically emotive. she hums a response, and the breath of her shaky exhale falls over his face as he bends down to examine the wound.

it's not great. far from it, in fact, as he can hardly see the bullet, wedged deep in her bleeding flesh. he lets out a ragged gasp, before forcing his mouth shut when he hears her whimper.

"is - is it bad?" she breathes out into the small space between them. he's not sure what to say. it objectively is, but he doesn't want her more upset in her current situation.

"i'll fix it," is the response he settles on, as he gets to work. in this job, he'd seen quite a few injuries - though not many were like this, and none that had happened to her. he works meticulously to extract the bullet and care for the wound, hyper-aware of how close they were. he could feel her soft breaths on the top of his head, her fingers would curl over his thigh as she tried to firm the uncomfortable sensations, and her chest would brush against his temple when she squirmed at the painful procedure. he tried to keep his mind focused, though it felt inclined to panic every time he heard her whimpers or gasps at a sting or ache.

what really made him panic, though, was when he stopped hearing them. having heard nothing but even breaths for the past minute or two, he looks up in confusion and sees her eyes closed, shoulders completely slumped.

"hey? you there?" he asks softly, waving a hand in front of her face, before decidedly getting more upset, his face scrunching in worry as he gently taps her face, careful not to move it too much, "hello? are you - mierda, mierda..." he trails off, voice becoming shaky. he looks over her face and, seeing the peace of it, he feels a strange mix of relief, that she seemed less in pain, and fear - as he'd seen that peace on many a dead man as well.

working more delicately, he continues the process, his eyes unable to leave her for more than a few seconds. he was trying to convince himself it was just to make sure she was still alright, but the more base part of him kept reminding him of just how much he cared about her, and how he truly hated the morbid thoughts that were encroaching his stressed mind.

"please, please don't give up on me," he mumbles, letting himself talk to keep sane, even though he knew she couldn't hear him, "fuck, stay strong for me. you're so strong, y'know that? and you're smart, and so skilled. i - i do really like working with you. even though - y'know, i'm kind of an asshole around you sometimes. you should see me around the others, though, that's just me. damn, that is just me," it'd transitioned to a ramble, "why - fuck, why do you even work with me? i'm so different from you, and you must feel weird in my company, but you're nice, and you always make me laugh - fuck. i do really like you. not just working with you. you - you mean so much more to me than you think and - well, i wish i could tell you that more often, dammit. i'm just..." he sighs deeply, his fingers brushing over her newly furrowed brows. he's worried that he'd hurt her, and he stops for a moment to let her unconscious self recover, before dropping his voice to a whisper, "i can't lose you, mi cielo, por favor no puedo perderte. i - i really need you to stay strong - stay alive for me." he looks at her relaxing brows, and turns away, beginning to work, as he curses himself internally for being stupid enough to not have said anything until the poor woman literally couldn't hear him.

except, she could. she was incredibly weak - too weak to move, or hold any tension in her muscles, or even open her eyes, but she was just slumped down - not unconscious. she had felt horrible when she couldn't open her mouth to tell him she was fine - well, at least, better than he thought she was - after she'd heard his worry, but she'd become truly upset she couldn't move when she heard his rushed and mumbled confession.

she wanted to reach up and tuck back that bit of hair that always fell over his face when he was working or stressed, and let her hands travel down behind his neck before she'd pull him in for a kiss, like she'd wanted to do for so long. she was over the moon at his words, her lips just barely parting in an effort to say something, but nothing came out. as she could hear him shift away, finally finished, she did fall asleep, still on the brink of returning his feelings.

it'd taken a night of sleep, but after the bullet had been taken out, her body had begun naturally healing, and by morning, she was nearly good to go. she still winced if she turned around too quickly, and miguel was absolutely insistent on half-carrying her to the on-deck infirmary at the spider society. it had led to a few confused glances in their direction, and hobie's admitted annoyance at seeing them together, so close. hobie didn't love miguel - as was known by most - but he found her much more interesting, and seeing that the both were definitely together - as confirmed by pav and miles' exclamations of the fact - he had resigned himself to a signature curl of his lips, before - after only a few short minutes - finding something else around him to critique.

as miguel set her down, she looked up at him expectantly, searching for that softness from yesterday. it didn't come in the form of his soft words, but rather in the look in his eyes, and the wordless moment he spent squeezing her hand, before mentioning something about having to go back to work, eyes averted from hers. she knew he must have felt awkward looking at her, not realizing she knew what he'd said, so she doesn't mind.

when she's discharged, she makes her way to his office, a box of empanadas from the cafeteria - saved, per her request - in her hand, and knocked on his door. he lets her in, lowering his platform in a heartbeat. she realizes it's going faster than usual, and laughs to herself, realizing he truly did do that slow drop for dramatic effect. he tries to refuse the food, suggesting she eat them and rebuild her strength, but she brushes him off.

"where would i be if you weren't playing doctor, miguel?" his eyes widen at her use of his first name - decidedly uncommon in their interactions.

"is - are you okay? didn't hurt you too bad, did i?" he mumbles softly, looking at her with a worried gaze. she shakes her head, smiling.

"not at all. i did want to mention something to you, though." he looks at her, inquisitive.

"yeah?"

"también eres mi cielo."