#but unfortunately this has one not so great side effect | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

floatmeintothesun · 1 year ago

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Utterly Enraptured

Pairing; Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

tags; breeding, little bit of overstimulation, Miguel goes into rut, creampie, wordcount 4k

Summary; Miguel seems to have forgotten about a certain side effect from having half of his genetic makeup being spider DNA

EXPLICIT - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

—

Wet, warm, perfectly molded to his length. Large palms pressing against thighs, his mouth quieting your little gasps and hiccups. His murmured praise, his filthy tongue pressing against your hole wetly, licking long stripes up your skin. Hungry. The twitch of his hips, the choked whimpers, he wants it. Needs it.

You’re gasping, trying in vain to muffle your moans into the pillow while he completely and irrevocably rearranges your insides. You’re so fucking sweet – god, he wants nothing more than to stuff you full of his seed, pull out and admire the view of him seeping out from your weeping pussy.

He wants to push it all back in with spit slicked fingers, kiss away all of your tears and do it all over again until you’re sobbing in pleasure, begging for more, more, more –

Miguel wakes up feeling fire burn at the base of his spine and the undeniable hardening of his cock. He immediately wants to just roll over and go back to bed.

It’s 7:47, he has to get up in ten minutes, he’s way too hot but the floors are probably freezing, his blankets are so so comfortable and his dick is aching. So far, great start to his morning. Miguel turns to his side, finding your side of the bed empty. He resists the urge to groan.

Right, you have your early work shift today.

He mourns the loss of the warmth as he kicks off his blankets with one languid motion. For a moment he’s tempted to just indulge himself right now, right here. Your scent is still in the air, soaked into your pillow, heady and intoxicating.

Absent-mindedly he palms himself, cupping the sizable bulge and considers. Miguel wants you, to be completely honest. Always does. Like a thirst that will never be quenched, he craves you. All of you. Your hands, your flesh, your blood — if he could, he’d worship every single inch of you for the rest of eternity.

And you’re not here. Unfortunately. He imagines your hand, smaller than his, wrapping securely around his length, the other curled loosely around his hot, swollen balls, and slowly exhales.

He can wait. He has self control. He doesn’t have time to fist himself like a wild animal. He has an online meeting to attend since he, for once, is taking a break from the Spider Verse for a day or two.

Miguel heaves a sigh and gets up, stretching lazily. The chill seeps into his skin and he resigns himself to taking a cold shower.

(He ends up having to clean spurts of creamy white off of the shower walls anyway. He is so fucked.)

—

There’s something wrong with him. There’s something wrong with today. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Miguel can’t get you out of his head.

You usually don’t leave his mind regardless, but at the moment, all he can think of is bending you over the nearest flat surface, letting you slather at his tip, feeling your sweet, tight pussy clench around him while he whispers obscenities in your ear.

He thinks of you all day, but his thoughts are never this…vividly vulgar. Miguel will admit to having the stray passing instance but right now? He’s practically been a depraved fucking dog for the past three hours straight.

This morning didn’t help. That damn dream didn’t help. He’s been staring at his laptop for the past thirty minutes trying desperately to redirect his thoughts to something more productive, his board members are droning on and on about stock values and whatnot – he has work to finish, but jesus, he can’t think of anything but you.

Your taste, your heat, your everything. He’s hard as rock as he mumbles some bullshit excuse to his meeting members before shutting off his laptop with a definite click. It’s as if a fog has filled his head, keeping him drunk and dizzy. Miguel’s body feels unbearably hot right now, scorching, needing.

“Lyla,” his voice is strangled. “What’s the date?”

His assistant flickers to life next to him, drawing up a calendar.

“Mm…it’s the 8th,” she says, blinking down at him. “Ah, I see. Your uh, time of the month, y’know?” She wiggles her eyebrows and he growls, waving her away. She pops up a little ways away, putting her hands on her hips.“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, man,” Lyla frowns. “Just telling you,”

“Thanks,” He says bitingly, dismissing her and groaning into his hands. You won’t be home until later – and later means that he’s going to have to suffer for the next few hours, alone and unbearably horny. Wonderful.

Mentally, he berates himself with a low hiss, feeling annoyed that he didn't connect the dots earlier. His throat is dry and he swallows raspily.

He should’ve looked at the date, how could he have forgotten? Heightened sensitivity, overheating, inability to focus, the urge to fuck you into next week — all signs pointing to a very large neon billboard that says “SPIDER INSTINCT FUCKERY” in big bold letters. In other words, mating period.

It happens every other month through the 8th to the 10th when his body decides that it’s time to procreate and do nothing else for the next two days.

He sucks in a ragged breath slowly, trying to calm his fast beating heart. It doesn’t work, only serving to remind him of the pulsing in his chest and between his legs.

It wasn’t this bad before he started dating you. All he had to do was tug on his cock a few times and he was fine, for the most part. Anything else could be burned off by fighting criminals and doing his usual dimensional overseeing.

That was before you. You and your gorgeous smile, you and your honeyed scent, you and your burning touch. He’s so hungry — greedy. He wants your flesh in his hands, your slick on his chin, your hands on his body.

He doesn’t even realize he’s getting up from the couch and migrating to your shared room until his knees hit the mattress and his huge frame curls up on your side of the bed. His cock is stupidly hard, twitching and throbbing from where it’s formed a tent in his sweatpants.

Miguel can already feel the precum seeping out of him and staining his boxers. A whine rips itself out of his throat as he buries his head into your pillow, basking in your familiar sweet smell.

A heady mixture of your favorite shampoo, perfume and body, all swirling around him as he grinds his lower half into the bed desperately like a dog in heat.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

He needs you, craves you. His large hand snakes down to wrap around his weeping length, the other pulling down his sweat pants and boxers to give him some relief. It’s agony, waiting for you to come home.

He wishes you were here right now, wishes that he could pepper your face with kisses and croon apologies while he slowly bottoms out in your tight cunt while you writhe beneath him.

Or on top of him. He doesn’t give a damn. Any position you want, he’ll do it.

Just imagining your sweet whines and whimpers has his breath labored. He presses the heel of his palm against his stiff length, hissing at the jolt of pleasure and sensitivity that burns through him. It’s painfully dry, but he takes the slick precum dripping out of his tip to aid the tight slide of his fist over his fat cock. God, he just needs to pump you full of him and fuck it all back into you. The thought of you, all swollen and glowing with his kid makes him nearly feral.

His hips jerk upwards and he can’t help but imagine your hand instead of his, can’t help but imagine how much better it would feel.

He gasps quietly as his thumb presses against his slit, jaw tightening, fangs threatening to break skin. The hand currently not wrapped around his cock is clenching the bedsheets hard enough to rip.

He just needs to wait. He just has to wait a little longer. You’ll be home soon.

—

You slip off your shoes at the door, setting them aside on the rack near the entrance. The warmth from the apartment chases away the chill and you set down your bag, heaving a sigh of relief. You’ve been looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend all day since he has a rare day at home today.

You peek around the hall, letting your aching feet be comforted by the rugs near the living room. Where is Miguel anyways?

“Heyyyy,” Lyla pops up in front of you suddenly, grinning when you startle. “Looking for Miguel?”

You set a hand on your chest trying to calm your jackrabbiting heart, before giving her a small smile.

“Yeah. Is he here right now? I mean he said he would be, but I don’t know if he’s doing his Spider-man thing right now,” You tilt your head as Lyla’s expression flickers. She adjusts her glasses, glancing at your bedroom door.

“Well uh, he’s in there. Might wanna be careful though,” She mutters, checking out her bright pink nails absentmindedly. You raise an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

In lieu of explanation she draws up a calendar and materializes a glitching pen in her hands, circling the date. Your frown in confusion.

“The…8th?” You blink and she nods. Why would today be significant? It’s not your anniversary, the only thing that comes to mind at the moment is… “Oh.” You swallow dryly, remembering vague flashes from two months ago. Two months ago when he had fucked you silly for what was basically two days, interspersed with breaks in between. Then the sheepish explanation of what he calls "mating period" where his DNA practically drives him insane with rampant horniness.

Lyla nods empathetically.

“Yeah…well, good luck! I've heard that massages really help with soreness.” She vanishes with a pop of golden glimmers, leaving you alone in the hall.

You glance where she had been moments prior before sighing. Dating a man with half of his makeup being spider DNA came with its quirks. Your feet carry you down the hall and you open the door to find –

Oh fuck.

Miguel, in all of his bare glory, strong thighs spread wide, leaving nothing to the imagination. His sweatpants and shirt are in a heap on the floor, most likely thrown in his haste. His heaving chest is gleaming with sweat, abdomen twitching, looking like a Greek God.

And there, his throbbing, swollen cock squeezed tightly in his fist, his hips working back and forth at a languid pace. Long and thick, the tip shining slightly with precum. It makes you salivate, sticky heat beginning to grow between your legs.

The room's atmosphere is heavy as you mindlessly draw closer. Fuck, his gasps and whimpers sound so pretty. Half of his large frame is hanging off the bed as you realize he's on your side, face buried desperately in your pillow.

"B – baby," His words stutter in his throat as your scent overwhelms him, his nostrils flaring. "Please, please, please —fuck, need you so bad," he quivers, taking his hand off of his face to look back at you. He's grimacing, gorgeous plush lips stretched into a pathetic pout and you hum in acknowledgement, putting a hand on his thigh. He twitches but makes no other move.

Your clit throbs in response to the pure neediness in his voice, high and whiny. He sounds utterly wrecked, squeezing his cock and waiting for you to touch him. You’re so close, your hand is on his body, but it’s not where he wants it.

“You’re so desperate, Miguel,” You croon, reaching out slowly and wrapping your hand around his base. He makes a choked sound, his hand falling away to run through his sweaty hair. “Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer for a second, visibly trying to contain himself before he speaks, low and ragged.

“Yes,” He finally hisses, crimson irises foggy and clouded with lust. You hum in approval at his answer, squeezing lightly as you begin to pump him, going at a pace you know is wholly too slow for his taste. “Don’t t — tease me, cariño. Faster, baby, please,” He begs, his breath stuttering in his chest.

You rock back on your heel as you begin stroking faster, your thumb tracing the veins on the underside. Miguel’s eyes roll back as your deliciously hot mouth descends on him, your tongue circling his tip juuust the way he likes it. Fuck, you can feel yourself getting wetter with each trembling hiss and moan you pull out of this man — your man. You separate from him with a pop, licking pre from sticky fingers while he watches hungrily.

The smell of arousal — your arousal, invades his senses and his hands twitch and he lunges, pulling you up to him and flipping you over. You yelp in surprise as his hands immediately squeeze flesh, your hips, your thighs, your ass, anywhere he has access to.

You tilt up to kiss him and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and when you allow him access inside he moans quietly, fangs digging into your lower lip lightly.

Your shirt is practically discarded at the speed of light and you shiver for a second at the cold washing over your skin before Miguel's all over you again.

He leans forward to fumble with your bra, fingers struggling to unclasp the hooks on the back. You laugh and pull it off yourself, to which he rolls his eyes fondly before his mirth is devoured by desire.

Thick fingers nimbly pull at your pants waistline.

"Take these off too, sweetheart," He whispers, leaving wet open mouth kisses trailing down your neck. You shiver, obliging quickly and kicking them off. They land somewhere on the floor and you don't care enough to look for them. Not when Miguel is between your legs, staring down at your clothed pussy like it's his last meal.

He inhales slowly, leaning down to press his head against your thigh. You smell so fucking intoxicating, he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs and make you scream in pleasure. But first he has to get rid of your panties.

"Hurry up, Miguel, please," You whine, wiggling your hips as if to try and encourage him. As if he needs any sort of encouragement.

"Do you care about these panties?" He asks, quick and low. You blink.

"No…? –! " You gasp as he lowers his head and fucking rips them off of you in one quick motion with his damn teeth. "Miguel!"

"I'll get you new ones, baby. Promise." He kisses your inner thigh, holding you down with two large searing hands. "As many as you want. As long as I get to have this goddamn pussy, I'll get you anything."

Your glistening lips look absolutely delicious, all wet and soaked from watching him play with his cock in front of you. He wants to put his mouth on your throbbing, swollen clit until you sob, wants your pussy in his face, wants his tongue in you while you grab at his hair and urge him for more. You'd taste divine, and he nearly just decides to do it anyway.

But his cock is so hard it almost hurts and he's about three seconds away from getting blue balls, so instead he sinks one finger in your drenched cunt. Your breath hitches and you turn your head into a pillow as he begins to finger fuck you in earnest. The obscene sound of slick gushing out from your hole makes Miguel nearly feral, nearly has his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels your tightness squeeze and pulse around his thick digit. You hiss at the stretch, slow pain and growing pleasure intertwining as Miguel goes slow adding a second.

"You're doing so good, so good, baby. You feel so – fuck, so good. Can you take one more?" He asks breathlessly. "C’mon, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You nod amidst blurry vision, gasping as he slides another finger in. His pace is fast and punishing, and the final goddamn nail on the coffin is the way his fingers press into your g-spot, while his thumb rubs messy circles on your puffy clit.

"Cum, baby, you can do it, you can fucking cum for me, can't you?" He latches onto your tit, swirling his tongue around your nipple in such a way that makes your head foggy.

“Mig – guel!” You whine brokenly as he rolls it between his teeth, sharp points of pleasure burning up your spine like wildfire. Miguel can’t help but groan at the feeling of your sweet cunt clamping down on his fingers, and he increases his speed at the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. You're so so close and when the building coil in your lower stomach finally snaps, you sob, gushing all over his palm.

Your bare chest heaves as he murmurs sweet praise in your ear, telling you that "You did so good, cariño," and "Look at you, you're so gorgeous all spread out like this,". Miguel drags his tongue down your neck, pulling away for a second to suck your juices off his fingers in an awfully erotic display of tongue, saliva, and a flash of a grin.

He presses kisses to your face, trying his absolute damndest not to hump you like a fucking dog but he’s waited so long and he’s going to go fucking insane if he doesn’t get your pretty pussy wrapped around his cock in the next two seconds.

“C’mere, baby,” Miguel takes himself in hand, his other keeping your thighs spread so he can see your twitching hole all wet and ready for him. “Can’t wait any damn longer – I’ll fuckin’ – explode or something.”

Looking up at him from your position is absolutely deadly. His hair is disheveled, strands slipping from their usually neat positions, his expression is utterly and completely devoted as his chest heaves. Your eyes travel down to shamelessly stare at his massive package, complete with his proportionally large hand curled around the weeping length.

He’s so stiff that he splits your lips easily, and he groans at the feeling of your slick coating the underside of his cock. You can’t help but gasp as he grinds against you slowly before the head catches on your clit and pushes inside.

And oh god, he could die right here and be happy, he could fucking die with the tip of his dick buried in your tight pussy and think that his life is fulfilled. It takes everything in him not to cum and paint your insides in a creamy white. Your wet walls are so slick and he hisses as they clamp down on him.

“Fuuuuck… baby you — you gotta loosen up for me, relax — mnnshit — “ he gasps, and you cry out, shifting underneath him. He rubs sloppy circles on your clit, his breathing labored as a few more inches of his monstrous cock slide in, “There we go, there we — nnngh, okay, good, so fucking good, you’re such a pretty girl,” he babbles nonsensically, practically losing his mind in the warmth.

“M — Miguel,” You hiccup, nudging him out of his daze. “Move — please, s’not enough,” You want him in your guts, you want him to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is the shape of his cock.

And who is he to deny you?

He shoves the rest of himself in in one fluid motion, his throat closing in on itself as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush to yours. His mouth parts slightly as his lips form an o shape, and he thrusts once, caging you in his burly arms.

“Oh shit — I’m gonna move, okay? M’gonna move,” he warns you, before pulling out slowly only to slam his hips back into yours with wild abandon. You suck in a startled breath as he begins to absolutely fuck your brains out, fire igniting deep in your lower stomach again. There’s none of his usual careful approach, there’s no teasing, no smug remarks. He’s focused on one thing and one thing only: stuffing you full of his seed until he physically can’t anymore.

You can barely get anything out as he grinds against you, his dick so deep inside that you’re sure that he’s showing through your lower stomach. Fuck – he feels so good as he fills your tight pussy, rocking precisely in all of your sensitive spots. The head of him practically kisses your damn cervix, sending you rocketing towards your second orgasm of the night.

Your brain is so mushy and pleasure-drowned that it takes you a second to realize that he’s still talking and oh fuck.

“Let me fill you, le— let me cum inside, please, please, baby, I wan – nngh, I want you all round and swollen f’me,” he sounds utterly wrecked, desperate and hungry all rolled in at once, “Wouldn’t you look so pretty an’ gorgeous? Pleas – e, please? Need you full, all full of me,” Miguel begs, grunting lowly when you clamp down on him from the downright filth flowing from his mouth.

“Yes – Miguel, just –nnhgod, oh shit, oh fuck,” You lose the tail end of your sentence as your head melts out of your ears and pleasure sears through your veins. Miguel whimpers at your words, shoving himself deeper than you thought was humanly possible.

“Waited so long for you, baby, was so – was so lonely, needed you – need you – “ He hits a spot that has you keening, eyes rolling back and your head bumping against the headboard of the bed. You’re driving him utterly insane, your moans and cries sounding like a blended symphony of bliss pounding through his eardrums. He leans down to litter any inch of bare skin he has access to in dark marks, his burning mouth trailing wetly down the valley between your breasts.

“M’close, Mig – uel, I’m going to cum, baby –” You manage to gasp out before you’re overwhelmed completely and your vision erupts into stars as you gush around him for the second time in one day. It feels like someone has poured molten pleasure down your veins and you’re incandescent with it.

Miguel chokes, low and deep in his throat, feeling your slick pussy tighten around his girthy cock, slathered in your juices. It tears a downright animalistic sound out of him, a trembling snarl from somewhere in his chest as he thrusts once, twice, then finally pumps you full of creamy thick seed.

His mouth is agape, transfixed in a silent ‘o’ as his hips stutter and his balls draw up tight, every atom in his body devoted to filling you completely. When he’s finished, he rolls his hips a few more times, fucking his cum deeper inside of you despite his hiss of overstimulation.

Your limbs are putty in his hands as he slides out slowly and adjusts you into a more comfortable position, his eyes lingering on the way some of his cum drips out of your loose hole. He pushes it all back in with two fingers, giving you a small smile of apology at your choked mutter, before collapsing down next to you and dragging you close to his chest.

“...How long does this last again?” You rasp, voice sore from screaming. Miguel hums in contemplation, nosing your shoulder from where he’s draped over you.

“About a day and a half more to go,” He responds languidly after a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

You know you’re going to be so sore by the end of it. You know you’ll probably be feeling it for weeks on end after. You know you’ll probably have to take a few sick days to recover too.

“Mhm,” You answer, kissing his cheek. “I can handle it,”

“That’s good,” He replies quietly, and you stiffen, feeling his fat softened cock twitch against your thigh. He raises his head to give you a semi sheepish look and you gulp.

Maybe you can’t handle it, actually. It’s okay though, since Miguel will take care of you long after.

—

Man im so sorry this was pretty late. At least i managed to get it in before October ended. Also I’d let that man dick me down any day of the week, 24/7 😻😻

#across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine

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whateveriwant · 8 months ago

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The 141 holding their baby for the first time

Can be read as a part 2 to this

Price

This man is so eager to hold his child for the first time, he almost doesn't wait for the nurses to clean him off first. So what if his son is covered in all sorts of blood and gunk? John has dealt with a lot worse before, trust him

So when he has to wait for the little one to be cleaned and then weighed and then dressed first, John almost steams from his ears he's so frustrated

Oh but the moment his child is finally placed in his arms, he just absolutely melts. Goes from a menacing grizzly bear to a harmless stuffed plushie in two seconds flat

With one hand supporting his bottom and the other curving along his back, John gently holds his son for the very first time. As he looks at the boy in his arms – his eyes, his lips, his little button nose – John feels a tickle behind his eyes, and he's quick to blink the tears away before they can form

He sniffs back his emotions and caresses the top of your son's head. “Hairy little bloke, ain't he?” he jokes, referring to the full head of hair the tyke's already been blessed with

Well, what does he expect when he has a werewolf for a father? Your jest gets John to chuckle lowly, muttering to the boy, “Just like your daddy, eh?”

He places the baby against the crook of his neck and softly pats him on the back, bouncing up and down ever so slightly. And when his son lets out a great big burp, John and you share a laugh. “Yeah, just like your daddy.”

Ghost

One thing Simon prides himself on is his sense of humility – knowing when his services are needed and when they aren't. In this instance, as the nurses flit around with his son, he knows it's the latter situation, so he waits patiently off to the side as he lets them work

Though he's sidelined, Simon watches like a hawk as his little boy moves about the room. Every hand-off, every measurement taken, it's all done under the careful eye of his father

But despite how cool he may appear on the outside, inside his heart is pounding, and that only increases as a nurse finally approaches him with his child in her hands

Simon goes to take the baby from her, stretching his arms out, but before the transfer is made, he remembers something. Quickly, he reaches up and strips the cloth mask from his face. He knows the little one doesn't have good eyesight yet, but first impressions and all that, right?

With the utmost caution, Simon takes his son into his arms, putting him in the crook of his elbow like a rugby player holding a ball. He feels like a giant as he holds the tiny boy against him. Like an ant compared to an elephant, he thinks to himself

Despite his size though, Simon is so delicate with his son, treating him like he's made of glass. He tucks him more firmly against his chest, and as the little one naturally snuggles closer, Simon can't help the smile it brings to his face

Rocking back and forth slightly, Simon tries to lull the boy to sleep. Unfortunately, his little cheek rubbing against Simon's chest has the opposite effect, and he begins to mouth at his pec, having accidentally triggered his rooting reflex

“Oh, he's…,” Simon mutters awkwardly, realizing what he's just done. He hears you giggle from your spot on your bed, and that makes him chuckle to himself. “Think he's hungry,” he says before handing the baby over to you

Gaz

From the moment Kyle laid eyes on his son, it was love at first sight. Even though he was filthy, wrinkly, and had a conehead to end all coneheads, Kyle was immediately smitten with the boy the moment he first saw him

He carefully trails after the nurses as they go about cleaning him/taking his measurements, not wanting to get in the way but wanting to stay close

Despite his watchfulness, however, when his son is finally offered to him, Kyle immediately freezes. His arms feel like they're locked down by his sides, like there's some kind of invisible force preventing him from reaching out and taking him

Though he's been preparing for this moment for months, when it's finally time to do it, he finds that he's scared. Scared to hurt him, to drop him, to do something wrong. He has to take a deep breath as he plucks up the courage, then has the nurse hand over his son

And the second the boy is placed in Kyle's arms, the tears he hadn't managed to shed during the delivery start streaming anew. “H-Hi, baby. Hi,” Kyle sobs, masterfully holding his son in one hand as he uses the other to wipe his tears away. “I'm your daddy.”

Though there's still a flurry of activity going on around them, it's like time seems to slow as Kyle admires the little boy in his arms. He leans in to press a soft kiss to the top of his son's head, holding his lips there as he inhales that sweet scent emanating from him

When he finally pulls back, he brushes another tear away, flashing a bright smile as he chuckles wetly to himself. Yep, he's in love alright. Truly, deeply in love

Soap

Johnny feels sluggish as he slowly wakes back up. It takes some effort for him to peel his eyes open, and when he does, he then groggily takes in his surroundings

He's slumped in some stiff hospital chair. Why? Oh, wait. He thinks he remembers. He was here to watch the birth of his first child, but the last thing he remembers was seeing a whole lot of red, and then everything went black

Johnny looks around the room for a moment until he realizes you're sitting in the bed across from him. He stands with a grunt, rubbing his forehead as he walks over to you. “What'd I miss?” he asks as approaches your bed

He notices something in your arms, but it's not until he gets close that he realizes what exactly. That isn't just any little bundle in your arms. That's your son you're holding

He finds he's frozen to his spot as you answer his question. Other than the birth? Not much. Just the first feeding… and the first burping… and the first swaddling

Johnny's lip threatens to tremble as he listens to you list off all the things he missed because he'd passed out. But when you ask in he wants to hold his son, all that sorrow immediately vanishes

Now, Johnny's held a lot of babies in his years (it comes with being part of the MacTavish clan), but there's something different this time as you pass the little boy to him. As Johnny looks at the baby in his arms – his baby – he realizes this is the most perfect, most beautiful, most amazing, angelic, awe-inspiringly wonderful–

There's the sound of a small whine followed quickly by a loud squish, and suddenly, the bum cradled in his hands feels about 2x heavier. The realization hits you before it does Johnny, and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you

Congrats, daddy-o! Looks like he woke up just in time for the first nappy change

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yandereunsolved · 5 months ago

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Yandere Five w/ apocalypse reader— 'the end of the world is the most unfortunate circumstance to develop an obsessive trauma bond.'

Yandere Five had been but a barely pubescent teen when he so wisely chose to manipulate time to win an argument with his dismissive parental figure. It was jarring in the beginning. Everything he had ever known had been stripped from him. There was nothing left but debris and blood.

He always had his powers to aid him, yet for the first time they failed. He realized that his reliance on them is what caused this problem in the first place.

How could he be so idiotic?

Fastrack, six years or so, he tended to lose track due to the harsh winter blocking what was left of the sun and the overarching smog always present. Where was he going with this? Oh, yes. It made it difficult to calendar because of the extenuating circumstances.

It had to be about February when he met you. The snow had settled over more monotonous ruins of what was probably a rural town. Most of the sun rays were blocked by smog and strange cloud formations manipulated by the effects of it all. Still, he could see you, leaning against what still stood of a brick building, devoring a stale-looking twinkie.

"This one's interesting, huh, Dolores?" Think we're gonna have to shoot em'?"

Yandere Five ends up sticking by your side to culminate resources and find your true reasoning for being here. That's totally the justification, yeah. It isn't as if he is incredibly touch starved and on the edge of losing what little sanity he had. He just needs to figure you out. That he does, a little too well.

Yandere Five becomes overbearing. You can't tell if you are being questioned by your future murderer or stalker. He demands you answer all his questions promptly and with the utmost truth. He doesn't fluff them and act nicely or reply with basic human empathy. He simply loses his edge after he learns one more thing about you.

Are you allowed to do the same to him in return?

Absolutely not.

You learning about him is on a need to know basis. So if he feels that you need to know it, you will.

Take him by his word. You have to.

Yandere Five isn't the largest fan of physical affection, or physical anything in fact. It takes years in the apocalypse for him to willingly be touched by you. That's at least how he tries to appear. His expressions are always so blank and dismissive. A sarcastic quip is always on the tip of his sharp tongue.

Yet after only a few months of traveling together, he is more than eager to feel your skin under his.

He doesn't want to be near you, no, but you injured yourself by being foolish. He warned you against it, and still you continued. So now he is using some of the minimal medical supplies you both have so he can patch you up. If both of you were back pre-apocalypse, then he would definitely install a tracker inside your arm. For protection, obviously.

He doesn't want to be touched, no, but you're shivering. Losing the only other seemingly living human being, besides Delores, in the apocalypse would leave him at a great disadvantage.

He doesn't want intimacy with you, no. He has just to cuddle you to protect you and keep the nightmares away. He has to kiss your irresistible lips to keep your morale up. He has to let his thoughts about you to linger about in private, unexplored places so he may relieve himself to release relaxing and happy hormones. It's simple as that.

Deep down, he knows the true reason is that he has become utterly smitten with you. He has just chosen to do his best to gaslight himself, even though statistics state it only makes those feelings worse. Perhaps he wants that. Maybe he just wants one person in this fucked-up world that is his and his wholly and unequivocally.

Yandere Five even gets rid of his beloved Delores for you. He was growing paranoid about her. She kept teasing him about how lovesick he was. She was talking about starting to fall in love with you too. The final straw is when she said she wanted a threesome with you. In the dead of night, he disposed of her, a bullet in her head.

Strangely enough you dropped the subject after asking once. It puzzled him. Did you truly dislike Delores that much to be so nonchalant about her disappearance? Did you know what he did? Of course you didn't. You obviously hated Delores and are glad she is gone.

Good.

He likes it this way.

No more distractions, just you two.

Yandere Five doesn't want to figure out the equation to get back to his pre-apoctalyptic life. He writes down a bunch of meaningful numbers in chalk. They aren't coordinations for returning to the academy. They're calculations about your possible romantic relationship, sexual aspects, how submissive you are, and more.

He has detailed a four letter plan in his private journal.

S ubmissivness — how complacent are you? are you gullible to his tactic? how strong is your moral code? would you go along with him knowing how truly infatuated he is with your very existence?

I nterest — how are you feeling? what are your reactions? he needs to know every single thing about you. he needs to know all of your likes just as importantly as your dislikes.

N eutrality — how will his actions affect you and everything else around you? what is the path that will keep you closest to him while also making him seem like the one in charge? this is how we will know if he has gone too far.

S way — how close are others getting to you? are they looking to befriend you? are their true intentions more sinister? he has to analyze every expression and every movement of those who make any contact with you.

You call it his diary. It is not a diary! Diaries are for feelings; journals are filled with statistics. Besides, you won't ever find the location of his actual diary. He writes it in southern Sumerian anyway. You don't have a chance at deciphering it.

Yandere Five meets the Handler while you are snoozing away after a particularly hard day of labor. He can't believe the promise this strange woman puts before him. He works for this Commission for five years, and after that, he's good as done. He gets you in whatever place he wishes for the rest of your lives.

It's a bunch of bullshit as far as he's concerned. Miracles usually don't come with strings attached. Then again, does he really have a choice? He doesn't want to see you suffer anymore than you already have.

So he takes this once in a lifetime 'golden' opportunity.

Let's just hope this one doesn't bite him in the ass.

Yandere Five tells you that he has a way to get you out of here. The both of you just have to spend a little time away from each other. His body psychically aches while way from you, and it isn't just because he's a crotchety old man. The both of you weren't going to be young forever.

He doesn't necessarily hate the job until he learns that killing you is part of keeping the time continuum in check. He doesn't wait a day after learning that information. He takes your hand and escapes somewhere in the past.

Of course his calculations were rushed and were off in the worst possible way. Of course he ends up in the middle of his father's funeral, both of you stuck in your thirteen-year-old bodies. Of course Kalus has to make a sex joke about it.

Damn it! He wants to scream at the top of his lungs.

He needs you! He had you all to himself, and then other people just had to fuck it up.

It's okay. It's okay.

He'll figure out a way to stop all of this and keep you forever.

Forever. What a pleasant thought.

#yandere #yandere x reader #tua #the umbrella academy #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #yandere tua #yandere the umbrella academy #yandere tua x reader #five x reader #number five x reader #number five #five hargreeves #tua five #yandere five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #yandere five hargreeves x reader

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floatmeintothesun-2 · 1 year ago

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Utterly Enraptured

Pairing; Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

tags; breeding, little bit of overstimulation, Miguel goes into rut, creampie, wordcount 4k

Summary; Miguel seems to have forgotten about a certain side effect from having half of his genetic makeup being spider DNA

EXPLICIT - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

—

He wants to push it all back in with spit slicked fingers, kiss away all of your tears and do it all over again until you’re sobbing in pleasure, begging for more, more, more –

Miguel wakes up feeling fire burn at the base of his spine and the undeniable hardening of his cock. He immediately wants to just roll over and go back to bed.

Right, you have your early work shift today.

And you’re not here. Unfortunately. He imagines your hand, smaller than his, wrapping securely around his length, the other curled loosely around his hot, swollen balls, and slowly exhales.

Miguel heaves a sigh and gets up, stretching lazily. The chill seeps into his skin and he resigns himself to taking a cold shower.

(He ends up having to clean spurts of creamy white off of the shower walls anyway. He is so fucked.)

—

There’s something wrong with him. There’s something wrong with today. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Miguel can’t get you out of his head.

“Lyla,” his voice is strangled. “What’s the date?”

His assistant flickers to life next to him, drawing up a calendar.

Mentally, he berates himself with a low hiss, feeling annoyed that he didn't connect the dots earlier. His throat is dry and he swallows raspily.

It happens every other month through the 8th to the 10th when his body decides that it’s time to procreate and do nothing else for the next two days.

He sucks in a ragged breath slowly, trying to calm his fast beating heart. It doesn’t work, only serving to remind him of the pulsing in his chest and between his legs.

Miguel can already feel the precum seeping out of him and staining his boxers. A whine rips itself out of his throat as he buries his head into your pillow, basking in your familiar sweet smell.

A heady mixture of your favorite shampoo, perfume and body, all swirling around him as he grinds his lower half into the bed desperately like a dog in heat.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

He wishes you were here right now, wishes that he could pepper your face with kisses and croon apologies while he slowly bottoms out in your tight cunt while you writhe beneath him.

Or on top of him. He doesn’t give a damn. Any position you want, he’ll do it.

His hips jerk upwards and he can’t help but imagine your hand instead of his, can’t help but imagine how much better it would feel.

He gasps quietly as his thumb presses against his slit, jaw tightening, fangs threatening to break skin. The hand currently not wrapped around his cock is clenching the bedsheets hard enough to rip.

He just needs to wait. He just has to wait a little longer. You’ll be home soon.

—

You peek around the hall, letting your aching feet be comforted by the rugs near the living room. Where is Miguel anyways?

“Heyyyy,” Lyla pops up in front of you suddenly, grinning when you startle. “Looking for Miguel?”

You set a hand on your chest trying to calm your jackrabbiting heart, before giving her a small smile.

“Well uh, he’s in there. Might wanna be careful though,” She mutters, checking out her bright pink nails absentmindedly. You raise an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

In lieu of explanation she draws up a calendar and materializes a glitching pen in her hands, circling the date. Your frown in confusion.

Lyla nods empathetically.

“Yeah…well, good luck! I've heard that massages really help with soreness.” She vanishes with a pop of golden glimmers, leaving you alone in the hall.

Oh fuck.

He doesn’t answer for a second, visibly trying to contain himself before he speaks, low and ragged.

Your shirt is practically discarded at the speed of light and you shiver for a second at the cold washing over your skin before Miguel's all over you again.

Thick fingers nimbly pull at your pants waistline.

"Hurry up, Miguel, please," You whine, wiggling your hips as if to try and encourage him. As if he needs any sort of encouragement.

"Do you care about these panties?" He asks, quick and low. You blink.

"No…? –! " You gasp as he lowers his head and fucking rips them off of you in one quick motion with his damn teeth. "Miguel!"

"You're doing so good, so good, baby. You feel so – fuck, so good. Can you take one more?" He asks breathlessly. "C’mon, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

"Cum, baby, you can do it, you can fucking cum for me, can't you?" He latches onto your tit, swirling his tongue around your nipple in such a way that makes your head foggy.

And who is he to deny you?

Your brain is so mushy and pleasure-drowned that it takes you a second to realize that he’s still talking and oh fuck.

“...How long does this last again?” You rasp, voice sore from screaming. Miguel hums in contemplation, nosing your shoulder from where he’s draped over you.

“About a day and a half more to go,” He responds languidly after a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

You know you’re going to be so sore by the end of it. You know you’ll probably be feeling it for weeks on end after. You know you’ll probably have to take a few sick days to recover too.

“Mhm,” You answer, kissing his cheek. “I can handle it,”

“That’s good,” He replies quietly, and you stiffen, feeling his fat softened cock twitch against your thigh. He raises his head to give you a semi sheepish look and you gulp.

Maybe you can’t handle it, actually. It’s okay though, since Miguel will take care of you long after.

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #astv miguel #miguel x you #Miguel smut #miguel atsv #miguel ohara

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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gojo x f!reader. woke up tender don’t look at me.

“Stop looking at me.”

The statement comes from your side of the bed, your half of the duvet you share with Satoru pulled over your chin, your eyes still closed and your lashes resting against your soft cheek. Your voice is raspy, throat dry from sleeping, and he simply chuckles next to you.

“How do you know what I’m looking at? Your eyes are closed.”

They are but the fact he has rolled over onto his side facing you and has been that way for at least ten minutes makes whatever point he’s been trying to make moot. You felt him shift when he first moved and you snuggled further into the bedding covering you, refusing to allow him to interrupt the last bits of sleep you’re entitled to.

Despite this, you can’t just go back to sleep and let him have the last word.

“You aren’t the only one with great perception around here, genius.” One of your arms slips over the top of your covers and reaches out to lightly flick the tip of his nose but he stops you halfway, capturing your hand in his and pressing your palm to his puckered lips.

You may be grumpy before 9 am but it’s hard to remain that way when he presses another kiss into your palm, this one accompanied by an exaggerated smack which makes you giggle. He does it again and takes a deep breath, again dramatic and grand, and continues the process until your giggle becomes a full blown laugh. Sleepy eyes open, blinking and watery, and meet his that are already crinkling at the corners from how hard he’s smiling looking at you.

“I’m up, are you happy?”

He hums and kisses your palm again, grin spreading across his face.

Morning suits you so well it’s a mystery to him why you hate it so much, warm light pouring over your face and body from the bedroom window and illuminating someone he’s already certain is an angel with a heavenly glow. How can he not stare until he has had his fill? The unfortunate thing about Satoru is that he doesn’t think he ever will, as gluttonous and greedy when it comes to you as he is those cream and strawberry filled sweets he brings home.

“Yes. I was lonely.”

You groan and roll your eyes but roll over onto your side to face him anyway. He will never tell you outright when he’s feeling wrong - sad or lonely or tired - but you are good at reading between the lines considering how often you speak in riddles yourself. The truth between these lines? He likely tossed and turned all night and has spent far longer than the last quarter of an hour staring at you and pondering what it means to love you, the divine gift he feels unworthy of receiving but is far too selfish to allow another to take.

Reaching out, you cup his cheek in your warm palm and his eyes shut reflexively. You rub your thumb over the skin of his cheek and while he’s distracted you lift your other arm from beneath the blanket and reach across your body to flick the tip of his nose playfully.

“You should be thanking me for being here to save the day,” you joke and he chuckles, unable to find the drama to react to you flicking his nose because of how happy he feels for the first time in hours.

The small gap between your bodies closes and he pulls you to his chest, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle against him and he gently rocks you.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. Not like I needed you or anything.”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Another kiss to your forehead. Satoru begins giggling wildly and you unbury your face from his chest, slightly concerned about what you’re going to look up to see but all you’re met with is a grin and eyes as clear as a cloudless sky.

“Just kidding,” he whispers, dragging the last syllable of the word for dramatic effect. He extends it for as long as he can until you shake your head and press your palm against his mouth.

“Good morning!” His greeting is muffled by your palm and you laugh when he takes liberties to keep kissing the soft skin through his own fit of giggles.

You may not be a morning person but every morning is easier when it is spent by his side.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes

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greenplumbboblover · 2 months ago

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[WIP] Lyralei's Pose addon - Part 2

(See previous post: Click me!)

First things first, MASSIVE thanks to @thesweetsimmer111 for all the help to make this work better and sharing her knowledge on Track masks with me (and the world!)

👀 Better Look at (with reactions!)

Maybe it’s just me, but I used to get endlessly frustrated when Sims wouldn’t properly turn their heads to face an item. So, I set out on a little mission to make their head movements more natural! Unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned—turns out EA’s code for the “Look At” feature is completely deprecated and no longer functional.

Knowing I couldn’t just code a fix, I had to explore other approaches. That’s when @thesweetsimmer111 came up with a brilliant solution: blending left, right, up, and down poses to create a more convincing look-at effect! 🎉

(See: Post)

What's different?

Here's the original pose, without Look at turned on....

On the left, we got VA's original look at.

On the right is what Savanita and I came up with! :)

don’t want to make it seem like the original Look At feature was awful—it actually works pretty well in some cases! For example, in this pose, if the plant were on the other side, the difference wouldn’t be that noticeable since her head is already tilted slightly. 😊

(Same layout again: Left = VA's, Right = Me and Savanita's approach)

Plus, maybe you do want something more subtle, then VA's Look at is great!

Anyways! Of course, I couldn't stop there! Now, your sim has a few options of turning towards the object:

(Note, this list will get 10x cooler in the next feature ;D)

This list is what the "trackmasks" are. :)

Okay, let's give "Eyes Only" a try. So, we expect Morgana to ONLY look at the plant, with her eyes.

(Left is before using look at, Right is with look at, and one up for fun-cies)

And, to please @nocturnalazure's wishes, yep! It now accepts Facial Expressions! :D

(I never would've thought I would see Evil Morgana lmao)

🎭Blending Poses/Reactions

After Savanita's amazing idea of using Track Masks, I found out that I can apply that same technique on, well, poses! And this is a feature I'm SUPER proud of (And honestly, it's taken me an entire week to get working 🙃)

First things first, when we choose the interaction, we will first be greeted by our "trackmask" list with all the selections on it

So, I made a few examples to show of what you could do, but in all fairness, it's endless!

Here I chose the option "Both Arms".

Here I chose "Head And Neck". Look! She even has the expression! (Don't worry though, i also have an expression-less version in the making ;))

What about... Animations?!

While blending poses has the ability to also type in your pose names by name, rather than list, you can also use EA's!

The list is pretty long ( believe 200 entries?) but here is a sneak peek:

Though, as far as I've been able to tell, EA reactions aren't as flexible, where I can tell it to only use the arms, or the eyes. Instead, we got these options:

So, unless I found a way to get around it, this is the only way to do it.

But without further ado....

Here I used the same pose(left) as the last 2 pictures, but with "OverlayHead". And chose "Boo"

(I just realised it looks like she is about to get hit by a ball lol)

🕰️ History List

The Add-on now remembers your pose history!

Whether you’re a dedicated “Pose by Name” user or prefer the simplicity of “Show by List”, both options now display your pose history for quick reference.

Note: Each Sim has their own individual history list. This means you’ll only see the pose history for Sim X when clicking on them, and not for Sim Y.

📓What's up next?

Adding all the trackmask. (I still need add the hands and legs ones)

Adding an in-game Category maker, so you don't have to edit the XML. It will mean you need to replace the XML file in S3PE yourself. But I can always make a quick How-To for guidance 😉

(Note to self) Optimize the Categorisation code. It's currently taking 1 minute up from the loading screen 😬)

Fixing some minor bugs where Look at will still turn the sim's head back to it's original position.

Fixing some issues where Blending poses with certain track masks aren't working well or at all.

Fixing an issue where the dialogs can crash the whole game (woops!)

Sooo, I think a release date is pretty soon! I think within a week :)

Any VA Addon Bug Fixes?

Of course! It's the mod that inspired me to make stories, and even get to make this mod! I couldn't just... leave it to collect dust while it's other child mod is getting all the attention. :p

Changelog:

There is now an interaction that uses both look at & reaction simultaneously. (In case you don't want to use my look at interaction).

Fixed an issue where reactions would sometimes or never show on the sim.

Fixed an issue where using "Random Quick Poses" would occasionally show a breathing sim, doing nothing.

Fixed an issue where certain poses get called twice, making it harder to keep reactions or even look at history data.

Some minor code changes that aren't worth mentioning honestly.

#the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 #the sims #sims #ts3 simblr #lyralei's pose addon #sims 3 wip #ts3 wip #the sims 3 wip #wip

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lazycats-stuff · 4 months ago

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Batfamily x batbro male reader

Reader is a magic user (like the scarlet witch), he often uses his powers during his normal day to day life too

He’s constantly found levitating off the ground while meditating, reading his spell book and using his powers to do simple things like making his bed etc

However his powers has a side effect, his powers hurt him sometimes as every time his emotionally unstable or upset his powers can take over but the rest of the family doesn’t know cause he never told them he simply cuddled up to them

One day after a bad argument the pain was too much to hold in and he desperately needed to let go of his powers to get rid of the energy

However he couldn’t do that cause it could damage the manor and hurt the others so he tries to hold it in trying to deal with the pain

He walked into the manor and looked for the first person he could find and simply hugged them

They knew his love language was physical affection but they never knew it went so far as to stop him from having a magical melt down

He tries to explained the issue to whoever he was holding on too and they started praising him and rubbing his back trying to make him calm down till they get to an open space where he can let go

Okay, that sounds cool. And lowkey Bruce coded.

Summary: (Y/N)'s magic is complicated.

Warnings: none really, mentions of an argument.

(Y/N)'s powers are something that he was born with, since his mother shared the same powers. Unfortunately, his mother passed away and (Y/N) came to live with Bruce and the rest of the family. And since Bruce didn't know anything about magic, he called in John Constantine and Zatanna to help him navigate his magical powers. They've been doing it since he was a child and by the time he reached his teen years, he could control his powers.

But magic is not without any consequence. Sometimes, his powers can hurt physically. And his emotional stability is important here. If (Y/N) gets upset, angry or anything else that causes emotional instability, they can come out. And not in a good way. His powers could get devastating and could hurt someone. Thankfully, (Y/N) had a good remedy for it. Cuddling up to his family to calm his nerves.

He never told his family that. However, it made for a good practice to control his emotions. But sometimes emotions can overwhelm a person, no matter how hard they try to control. Bruce knew that something was going on with (Y/N)'s magic, but he choose not to dwell on it. He knew that (Y/N) had a control on it and whatnot, but still.

Bruce is not particularly well versed in magic so he allows (Y/N) to make decisions on that part. And besides, magic is fun to look at. (Y/N) more often than not can be found using his magic in everyday life. Whether it be making his bed, getting a cup of whatever from the kitchen without even getting up from the couch.

But the one thing that the entire family can agree on is the fact that when he is meditating, he levitates, a spell book near him, also levitating, is creepy beyond belief. According to the others. Bruce tried not to be freaked out whenever he saw it, but it was hard not to be. Bruce was both fascinated and kind of scared.

The rest of the boys have shared the same sentiment. It was a fascinating power that (Y/N) possessed, but scary at the same time. And of course, who could say no to cuddles that (Y/N) asked for? Not even Damian could say no to (Y/N)'s cuddles. Not even Damian, the person who despises affection, can't say no to his cuddles. Dick would await the entire day just for those cuddles.

(Y/N) loved his family to bits because of their acceptance, no matter how weird he might look when doing magic. And Bruce has a magic consultant at home, which is great. You never know when magic can pop up in Gotham City. Anything can happen in Gotham City and that was something that every single Gothamite lived by.

Anything can happen in Gotham.

(Y/N) was driving home, pissed beyond belief. His high school classes were done and he got into a bad argument with his friend. He knew that his magic would explode, sooner or later if he didn't find his family in the manor. Something has been brewing in (Y/N) from the moment his woke up. He didn't know why he was feeling that way today.

But something boiled over during the argument and his magic was just itching to get out. And he knew he should let it out. He knows he should. But that would devastate a lot of space. So, cuddles are the only option he has left at this point in time. He parked the car in record time and rushed into the manor, looking for someone who could help him.

That someone was Bruce. (Y/N) didn't expect to see him. He thought that he was at work.

" (Y/N)? You seem stressed, are you okay? " Bruce asked, worried about his son.

(Y/N) didn't say anything, simply buried his face into Bruce's chest and Bruce hugged him. Bruce squeezed back tightly, not knowing what's really going on, but (Y/N)'s love language is physical touch so Bruce didn't really find it to be odd. And besides, he likes these moments.

" Sorry dad, I just needed a hug. "

" Never apologize for needing a hug. Or any affection. Okay? " Bruce murmured softly.

" It's... More complicated than that dad. It's connected to my magic. "

Bruce frowned at that, confused as to what he could mean by that.

" What do you mean? "

" My magic is tied to my emotions. If I get any negative emotions, my magic flares up and itches to be released and it can be devastating. I can hurt people. When that happens, I look for you or my brothers to get cuddles, " (Y/N) murmurs, explaining to Bruce, who nodded in understanding.

He start rubbing (Y/N)'s back softly.

" You did good (Y/N). It can't be easy to control so much magic, but you are doing well. Just relax, breathe in and out and anger and frustration will simply roll out. Okay? "

(Y/N) nodded and Bruce simply continued his praises to his son. " Also, the manor is a space where you can let go okay? This is a safe space for you. Although, I would like to keep the manor intact, " Bruce joked and (Y/N) laughed with him.

" I know, I would like to keep this manor intact as well dad. "

" But in all seriousness, " Bruce began, still rubbing his back, " This manor is a space where you can be safe. Feel safe. Where you can do your magic freely. And if there ever is a time where you feel like your magic is itching to get out, feel free to seek us out, okay? Don't hesitate, " Bruce said as he still rubbed (Y/N)'s back.

" I know that dad, I know. "

" Just making sure kiddo. Also, John Constantine might drop by soon enough. He says he has a new spell book for you, saying you will like this one too. Now, are you hungry? " Bruce asked as he lead (Y/N) to the kitchen.

" I am. Also, why are you home so early? " (Y/N) wondered, knowing that Bruce wouldn't be home this early.

" A big meeting got cancelled, so I came home. Now, sit down. Alfred made some great Shepherd's pie. " Bruce gently sat (Y/N) down at the kitchen island.

Soon enough, his brothers came home, tired and hungry. Dick was surprised to see Bruce home early, but didn't question it, simply sitting down as well.

" Hey B, didn't think you would be home so early. "

The conversation flowed from there and slowly everyone came home. Damian, Tim and Jason all showed various stages of shock. Damian simply nodded, Jason raised his brow and Tim let out a hum as they all sat down, hungry and ready to down some food. It's no easy task feeding 5 boys.

During the conversation, (Y/N) opened up to his brothers about his emotions and connections to magic, essentially repeating what he told Bruce about his magic. Everyone understood and knew that if (Y/N) needs cuddles, they are going to listen.

They don't want their home to be devastated by magic. They like this manor, believe it or not.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #batman x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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dalishious · 2 months ago

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(I can’t believe I finished this so fast�� I basically blacked out and then it was done lol… Anyway, please remember that this is all just my personal opinion, and if you feel differently, that’s fine!)

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Review

Objectively speaking, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a fun game that the average player is going to enjoy, especially if that average player is coming in without any prior knowledge to the Dragon Age franchise. I believe this is a good jumping-in spot for people who are curious about the world of Thedas. But in contrast, I have seen a lot of criticism from other hard-core fans that I largely agree with. However, it just so happens that most of the criticism I have is not enough to prevent me from overall enjoying the game. That is to say, for pretty much everything I did not like, there was also something I thought was great… Unfortunately, that makes it a little difficult to give a review. So, I’m going to do my best to keep things as clear and concise as possible by splitting up the “good” and the “bad” aspects of DATV.

The Positive

The best thing to come out of DATV is the new cast of characters that make up your companions and supporting associates. While I do think that some of them could have benefitted from more development time to flesh things out further, just judging what we ended up with, is mostly great. I especially found Emmrich and Bellara to be stand-out examples of strong personalities to grasp onto, whose personal stories really touched me in an emotional way.

DATV also has fun with some returning characters. For example, now that Solas is no longer hiding his identity, we get to see a character that both believably honours his part in Inquisition, while also providing a new, refreshing side to him. There are also a number of characters introduced in Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights that appear in the game, like my personal favourites Teia and Viago, who are an absolute delight to interact with!

I think the three act structure is good, albeit with act three being quite short. There are a few sequences that are an absolutely phenomenal mixture of storytelling and engaging gameplay, like all of Weisshaupt! I also really enjoyed stepping out of the main story every once and a while, and into Solas’s backstory through the Crossroads memories – what ended up being extra special about these is how they mirror Rook’s struggle so well, by the end. They are a nice touch.

The locations are beautifully constructed with smooth interactions of climbing, zip-lining, and essentially parkouring your way around, making them fun to explore! They also came with such distinct flavours and character in themselves that influenced a sense of truly experiencing different parts of Thedas, with different cultures.

The mechanic of building up strength with the different factions, and that actually having a huge impact with the ultimate showdown in the end of the game, makes side quests feel far less inconsequential than in Dragon Age: Inquisition by comparison. That, and they number far less.

I like that the story mode actually feels like a story mode; there were only a couple instances where I really had to worry about death, and even then, I was able to just toggle off the death with the customizable gameplay mechanics and continue on.

Finally, it would be remiss not to say that the character creator for DATV is the best BioWare has ever put out. I’d go as far as saying it’s one of the best in any RPG I’ve ever personally experienced. From the flexibility in morphing a character’s head and body between custom shapes, to the little details like sclera colour, vitiligo, and top surgery scars, makes it a shining example of what RPG’s should strive for. (My only critique here is that it would have been nice to have more skin colours.)

The Neutral

I hated the combat for pretty much the entire first act of the game. I found it too hard to keep up with, and too much like Mass Effect bullshit. I can’t say that it’s completely grown on me yet, but I don’t hate it anymore. It’s fine. So, I’m giving this a special little spot before I get into what I didn’t like all the way to the end.

The Negative

As mentioned above, I do think that there is more that could be done with some of the characters to really achieve their full potential. Davrin and Lucanis—while to be clear I still really enjoy as they are—come to mind first, in terms of those who would have benefited from more development time. Most of Davrin’s screen time just revolves around Assan rather than Davrin himself, and Lucanis is so restrained that it takes a while to really crack him open. Both of these characters have intentional personalities that make them harder to get to know, I understand that, but I feel that it would have been all the more rewarding to have more time dedicated to their company after earning their trust and possibly endearment. Instead, it feels like their romance and friendship with Rook are only half-complete, and then rushed to finish.

There are some companion interactions that are just… cringe. There is no other word for it. Now, this is nothing new for BioWare games, but I feel like the “pulling a Bharv” scene for example, was hitting an entirely new low. (If someone misgendered me and then just started doing push-ups instead of just saying “hey sorry about that, I’ll try to do better” I’d be annoyed, not satisfied.) I also felt like most of the temporary rivalries between companions were artificial in nature, rather than organically part of their characters that actually served a purpose. We already knew Emmrich likes books and Harding likes nature; we did not need a whole cutscene with them bickering about camping. (The exception to this is Davrin and Lucanis, who genuinely had room to grow as people out of their multiple confrontations, not just a one-off scene.)

The music in DATV is, for the most part, forgettable and bland. There is one piece that really stands out, and that’s “Where the Dead Must Go”, which is a real banger. I am not a fan of Hans Zimmer’s OST otherwise; I think it is phoned in, just like most of his work. I deeply wish BioWare would have just stuck with Trevor Morris. The best parts musically in this game are just Morris’s work re-used from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

There are certain parts of disjointedness that separates DATV from the past games that are just… bizarre. This is especially the case when it comes to elven lore. For example, Bellara saying she is afraid that elves will be harshly judged for the Evanrus, or Harding saying that elves are “thriving”… as if modern elves are not deeply persecuted across most of Thedas. It made me question more than once if there just was not time in development to do a proper canon-compliancy check with everything, perhaps?

I want finish this part by bringing up again that the biggest flaw in DATV is that it feels very corporate. To repeat what I said in this post: It is as if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance, in an overcorrection to be “safe”. But now that the edges have been so smoothed down to make a block into a ball, it can no longer support anything.

Conclusion

It’s easy to see a lot of creativity went into the creation of this game… but it is also easy to make assumptions on how that creativity was constrained by development hell and corporate oversight. In the end though, Dragon Age: The Veilguard succeeded in being an overall good time, one that I will no doubt be putting just as many countless hours into as the previous installments in the franchise. 7/10.

#dragon age #datv #datv spoilers #dragon age the veilguard #review #datv review

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generalsmemories · 2 years ago

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The general's hair

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: "If requests are open, can I request Reader tugging Jing Yuan's hair to keep him from dozing or just wanted him to pay attention? You can choose the "severity" of the tug =DD" requested by anonymous

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, suggestive scenes (not nsfw, but you can tell it's hinting at it lmfao), humor, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: dear lord we almost hit 500 jing yuan lovers. as he deserves, truly. thank you all for liking my two works so far!! here's another one while i still work on the lenghty angst fic of mine hehe. p.s please don't question my titles, i am very much terrible at them-

One of Jing Yuan's striking features is his voluminous hair that adorns his head like a lion's mane. Tied into a high half ponytail while the rest of his locks flow freely down to his shoulders. It's eye catching for sure, with a red ribbon securing the ponytail in place, it's hard to not turn one's head when he takes a walk outside of the divine seat to escape his duties.

You're well aware of how tempting his hair is to touch everyone. It's the one thing you always reach for whenever you're bored after all.

The first thing you always do whenever he's fresh out of a shower is brush it out while running your fingers through it, or make sure every drop of soap reaches every strand when you take a bath together. A pastime activity Jing Yuan adores doing with you, almost sounding like he's purring in delight whenever you take some extra time to massage his scalp while you wash his hair.

It's also the first thing you would always grab onto to ground yourself when Jing Yuan wants to show his love for you more intimately and passionately. Your primary instinct to pull his strands while trying to get him so much closer to you, a breathless plea for him leaving your lips every now and then. Your husband takes great pleasure from this, merely chuckling while leaning down to press his lips to your ears. Gently telling you to breathe while pressing himself closer to your own sweaty body. During these moments his hair cascades down the side of his face, making him seem a lot more ethereal than usual. And while you can hardly breathe from the sensory overload you always somehow manage to slide your fingers from his lips to thread through his hair with a wry smile, whispering how beautiful he is.

His hair has unfortunately for him recently become the thing you have pulled whenever you notice him start to doze around whether that be in meetings or in general. It was initially something you had done out of desperation since no matter how many times you told him to listen, your husband would already nod off a few minutes after promising you that he wouldn't. Whenever you had complained he has joked that your voice was too soothing to listen to regarding reports that he could fall asleep to it.

So you tried to let one of the cloud knights or Qingzu deliver the reports to thwart that, but then he would downright not pay any attention at all. Which would make some meetings run longer than normal.

God forbid if Fu Xuan even tried to attempt to deliver a report, lest she wanted to get poked fun at or have more people fall asleep other than the general.

So while you were trying yet again to give a report for the general, you were suddenly struck with the memory of one of the many nights you had spent together. The nights where the general would look so much more awake whenever you pulled at his hair from desperation.

… Hey if it worked there, it should have some sort of effect now too, right?

So without looking too suspicious, you went behind the seat. When you passed Jing Yuan's laid back form, your available hand that was not holding the papers reached out to the same high ponytail you had just tied a few hours before and pulled with enough strength that made his head jerk away from his resting hand.

A surprised moan suddenly rang out throughout the Divine Foresight.

And you thanked the Aeons that the only ones present at that moment were the same guards stationed at the very entrance and Qingzu, who only gave you a deadpanned look.

But when Jing Yuan turned to look at you, more awake than he had ever been in any morning and eyes filled with confusion, you were sure you had hit the jackpot to make every meeting go faster.

Good news for you and everyone else, not so good news for Jing Yuan though.

“The second matter of the day is the replacement of the newly appointed Cloud Knights who will be transferred to the Luofu from another fleet…”

“Ouch- Dear, pull my hair any harsher than that and I’m afraid you won’t have any strands to brush out in the near future,” Jing Yuan whines when your hand lets go of his high ponytail when he has successfully sobered up from his nth impromptu nap of the day.

You merely glance over at him with a raised eyebrow before walking away, “General, please be aware that you have a meeting with Lady Fu Xuan in a couple of minutes and these are just the briefings of what she will tell you personally,” you respond back, Jing Yuan letting out a huff as he leans back into his seat, rubbing the spot you had just pulled a few minutes ago with knitted eyebrows.

“... Let alone something to grab later tonight-”

“Jing Yuan.”

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #hsr x you #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

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somerandomdudelmao · 9 months ago

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okay but the thing about ppl being upset over oscar siding with the marmors is that it isn’t JUST that he sided with them

it’s that he did it so easily

there wasn’t any REAL signs of hesitation or regret. sure if he wasn’t prompted or coerced into doing so i doubt he would’ve, but it’s the fact that he just didn’t really seem to care if they died all that much. it felt like it was more of an unfortunate circumstance to him over anything else

the thing abt spoiled rich people is that they’re inherently selfish. they care about one person, themselves, and it doesn’t matter who’s effected or who has to go down to get what they want. they gain by taking away from others.

he was willing to go along with whatever the marmors asked of him if it meant he got to stay on top.

he didn’t even look away

he watched them die too easily.

I have to say, I love how the moment it was revealed that Oscar was rich, that was it. The way people perceive him has permanently changed. Oh no he's rich. There's no going back. JdrjnahahA

Your take is absolutely great I Iove it>:)

#marble sky ask

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trender-official · 2 months ago

Text

Whiskey Burns My Throat | Chapter One

Sevika x Doctor!Reader | 4.4k words

Cowritten with my friend Migi

Sevika is tired of Silcos shit. Why was she wasting her time watching over this stupid doctor? And why is she so hot?

Or, slow burn lesbian romance with our beloved Sevika.

Reader is almost an oc but she has no appearance or name lol

Sometimes, Sevika hated her job. For the most part, she either didn’t mind it, or even outright liked it. Being the right hand woman of Zaun’s widely accepted leader had its perks. The pay, for one, was great. She had slowly gotten used to not having to scavenge and scrap on the streets for any little thing she could get her hands on to sell. Now, she had a permanent residence paid off in full, and she hadn’t gone hungry in what felt like forever. She even had plenty of cogs to gamble away at Silco’s bar most nights. And the brothel, if she really needed to let off some steam.

She never could have imagined this for herself, not in a million years. And Silco, he had a real shot at this, a real shot at making something of this shit ridden city. That was all she really cared about. It was why she left Vander all those years ago, after he’d refused to take a stand against those fascist Pilties. She was still bitter about that.

An added bonus was scaring the topsiders. A smirk formed on her face as she thought about it. It was funny, being able to send them running with their tail tucked between their shitty little legs, quivering with genuine fear. Not just of her, but of what Silco would do to them if he found out they fucked with her. So she was on a power kick, sue her.

But this… She didn’t like this.

She stood outside a tent, looking scary enough- which wasn’t hard by any means- to keep anyone who would start shit away, having a keen eye for those people, unfortunately. But she also kept an eye out for clients, people suffering from shimmer. Shimmer was the drug that Silco started distributing after becoming the unofficial-official leader of Zaun.

When injected, shimmer gives you a rush. A rush of power, and enhanced abilities, as well as that feel good high you’d get from other substances. But… with every high comes a cost. It’s highly addictive of course, and has dangerous side effects, like the creation of deteriorating spores that eat away at your limbs in random spots.

Inside the very tent, was a stupid fucking Plitie prick. A stupid Piltie prick who Silco was making her protect. A stupid Piltie prick who was a doctor, treating the symptoms of shimmer and pollution that racked the citizens of Zaun, keeping them healthy enough to bring in profit- but sick enough to keep coming back. Unknowingly by anyone but herself, for the most part, and Silco made sure of that. It was a cruel joke, honestly. A smart, but dangerously cruel one. She would never admit this, but part of her felt bad for the Piltie. She had no idea she was participating in the repeated cycle of addiction and corruption.

A shuffle came from inside, the tent sliding open. A nother patient slinked out, his legs shaking like he was about to collapse at any second. But his face, that was the real kicker. It was a pale gray in color, sores and bumps growing along the side of it, red and irritated from the cleaning it just got. The doctor followed right after, with her hand helping him along cautiously. “Please, follow my directions. Keep the wounds clean and covered, and try to mix up where you inject it, otherwise it’ll just keep corroding the one spot” she said, her voice sounding almost robotic, mainly because she had said that to every other patient that came in with the same issues.

“I’ll try… Thank you, Ma’am.” The person said with a hesitant smile, voice careful and withdrawn. Most people didn’t say anything, just leaving as fast as they could. Or they’d bite out hurtful and spiteful words, despite the doctors efforts of healing them. They don’t wan’t to believe she was real, that she was fully committed to leaving her Piltover life behind for this shithole. Sevika didn’t. She had to be lying… spying, or something, gaining all the information she can to turn in to the topsiders and ruin everything that they’ve worked so fucking hard for. And silco was just letting it happen!

Her voice snapped Sevika out of her thoughts, the permanent scowl on her face deepening. “Of course. Just be safe. As safe as you can be.” The doctor said, sending him off with a wave and a small bag of things to help for the week. A care package, if you will, equipped with a small pale of water, 2 pieces of bread, and some new socks to keep warm.

The doctor looked up at Sevika and smiled. She didn’t smile back. She looked dejected and disappointed, she wanted Sevika to like her. She wanted most people to like her. It made her feel like she was doing a good job, and fueled her to do even better.

She called the next patient up, her voice a little less confident than usual. She took another glance at Sevika as she turned to walk back in the tent, after allowing the patient in. Sevika rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, continuing to glare at the most suspicious-looking person sitting in the alley nearby. She was already tired of this girl, and they’d only been working together a few days.

This was the last patient of the day, as the sun was starting to go down and the more violent citizens would be coming out now. After the last patient came out of the tent, the doctor nodded to Sevika, letting her know it was good to start dismissing everyone.

“Alright! Time to get going.” Sevika said, raising her arms. “Let’s go! Get!” She said to the few who dared to stay and try to fight it. They didn’t stay much longer.

The doctor leaned against one of the poles, the one Sevika had been leaning against, watching her as she shooed away the crowd. She smiled, though this time not as big. Sevika turned back to her, her scowl not faltering. “Wanna drink?” She asked, holding the tent flap open.

Sevika sighed. She knew she couldn’t leave until she got home. So she didn’t have much of a choice. Sevika had to lean down to enter the tent and stay hunched while inside to fit. She shuffled her way over to the small couch poised in front of a coffee table and a rolling chair. Sevika laid an arm across the top of the couch, spreading her legs.

The doctor pulled out a bottle of whiskey, one too expensive to be found down here, but not expensive enough to be considered good by Piltover standards. “I heard you liked this.” The doctor’s eyes glanced down over Sevika’s body nervously. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling suddenly more out of place than ever.

“You asked Silco about me?” Her eyebrow raised, “Only other person who can get it here is Silco.” She said, not reaching for the glass. The doctor licked her lips nervously.

“Well…yes. Consider it a gift. I don’t really like the stuff.” She said, handing the entire bottle over to her.

“You bought whiskey you don’t like?” Her voice was flat, void of teasing, of lightheartedness. “What, just to impress me?” Sevika said with a laugh of disbelief and slight secondhand embarrassment.

The doctor turned red and stuttered. “I-I don’t know- I just thought of you when I saw it. Is it so bad to get a gift for a new co-worker?” She felt scrutinized when Sevika turned her eyes back to her, and she was right to.

Sevika scanned her up and down. She frowned. The doctor suddenly felt insecure under her gaze. “I’m not going to like you. You can stop trying to make me.” She moved and crossed her arms, her muscles slightly bulging around her shirt. The doctor swallowed.

“I… I don’t think that’s true. If you got to know me-“ She said, sitting forward in her chair.

“Oh shut up. I already know how you're gonna be. All you Pilties are the same.” Sevika glared at her, making the doctor shrink back into her chair. “You’re all arrogant assholes who think we need you. We don’t. Any of our doctors could do the same thing as you.” She stood up and looked down over her. “I don’t know why Silco wants you here. But don’t think because I’m doing this I trust you. I’m doing this for him. Not you.”

Sevika turned and walked outside, to which the doctor sighed heavily. Her face was red and hot with embarrassment. She looked down at the glass, contemplating. Normally she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a fan of not being in control.

Quickly, she snatched it up and took a fat sip. It burned her throat, feeling foreign on her tongue, but the taste reminded her of how Sevika made her feel.

Outside, Sevika stood over the flap to the tent, casting a shadow inside. She squinted at the sound of racing feet stamping down the alley. She saw the shadow of a person carrying someone before she saw them. “Help! Fuck- Fuck, we need help!” A man shouted as he rounded the corner. Sevika pushed herself straight.

“What’s wrong?” She shouted to them.

“I- I don't know- I found him in a pool of vomit- Please, I know there’s a doctor here, you have to help.” He said as he fell to the ground from the weight of the person on his thin, unmuscled arms.

Sevika ran over and scooped the man up, inspecting the wound, a hole in the middle of his thigh, aligned with purple veins and disgusting bubbles filled with bodily fluid. Shimmer. Of course. She turned to the tent and brought the man over, shoving her way through with her shoulder.

The doctor looked up, alarm on her face. She heard the yelling, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. She had stayed inside in worry of a fight. “What?” She said as Sevika moved the man to be held over her shoulder and swept everything off the coffee table.

“He’s overdosing. You need to be quick.” Sevika said, laying him down as quickly as she could while still being gentle. She stood back, breathing surprisingly slowly, she seemed calm. It didn’t surprise Sevika herself, but the doctor was impressed. She really shouldn’t be surprised Sevika knows how to handle herself in stressful situations. You don’t get where she is not being able to.

“Do you know what on?” The doctor said, not having the chance to see the wound yet, snapping on gloves as quickly as she possibly could.

“No. Probably shimmer…” Sevika stood back, giving her room to work. She hated seeing this, knowing she helped it happen.

“Okay…” she sounded defeated, tired, “get me the Naloxone and a scalpel… please.” She said, having to remind herself not to bark orders out. Before coming down here- before uprooting her entire life, she had assistants and staff; people hired to help her without question or need for respect, as bad as that sounds. She pointed to the place she kept them, on the other side of the tent where there was a small box filled with all the supplies she could carry.

Sevika obeyed, not interested in protecting her dignity over someone’s life. The doctor began to wipe at the tumors growing on his thigh, deemed to be the injection site. The smell was awful… The wounds weren’t bleeding- not actively, there were signs of past bleeding, dried blood, and scabs topping every growth. They weren’t like shimmer growths, they were almost straight black. It was like his body was growing them just for them to rot. The doctor quickly administered the Naloxone, which evened out his breathing somewhat.

She took a deep breath, as well as she could with the thick smell of decay in the air, readied the scalpel. As soon as she cut into the pustule, it exploded, luckily missing her face, but it coated her hand and the table. Her eyes widened, as the smell assaulted her nose and mouth. She coughed, backing away. She knew this smell. She knew what this was.

“Fucking- Shit!” She yelled. “Back up! Get back!” She yelled at Sevika. She rushed to wipe her hands off on a cloth nearby. Just exposure to this could have negative effects on the human body. “It’s fake shimmer! Don’t touch it!”

“What? What does that mean?” Sevika asked, her instincts pushed her to pull the doctor away from the body, but she stopped herself. She seemed genuinely scared- Sevika thought it might be better to listen to her here.

“It means it’s toxic! We need to get him out of here!” She said, ripping off the ruined gloves and retrieving two pairs of new ones. “Come on- You need to help me.”

“Help you what?!”

“Get him out of here!”

“What? No! You need to help him!” Sevika said, grabbing her arm. “He’s your patient. You’re a doctor! This is your job!” She leaned over a little to tower over her, trying to scare her into listening.

“We can’t help him now! That stuff- You can’t bring someone back after they’re too far gone.” She tried to pull her arm away, only making Sevika rip her closer. Her chest pressed up to Sevika’s rib. Sevika’s breasts were almost in her face. She tried her best to not look, but couldn’t help to spare a few glances.

“That can’t be true. You have to do something.” Sevika growled.

“Anything I can do will just make him suffer longer! Is that really worth it?” She yelled back, pushing up. “I’ve done this before, the only thing treatment guarantees is more pain!”

Sevika glared silently and released her arm. Her face tightened once more before she turned away and stalked outside. The man who carried him in looked at her with a scared face. He clearly heard all of that. She looked down and sighed, closing her eyes. She wasn’t one to offer comfort to others.

Back inside the tent, the doctor was rushing to get the new gloves on. She searched her supplies and luckily found a vial of morphine. She bit her lip to hold back tears. It’s been awhile since she’d handled this kind of stress. She pushed herself up and slowly walked over to the patient. She’d give all that was left in the bottle, just enough to cause an overdose. He’d fall asleep, never to wake up again. She took a glove off.

Solemnly, she injected the dose, holding his hand as she did it, letting him feel her skin. She knew he likely wasn’t here already, but he was alive enough to feel pain. No one deserved to go out like this.

After… It happened, she came out, having taken off the button up that had the rot on it, now just in an undershirt. The man looked at her with wide eyes. She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She had taken off the other glove already. She walked over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He himself was not looking very good, tumors from shimmer beginning to appear on his arms and face. His breathing was weezy from the pollution. “You did your best. He was likely already too far gone by the time you found him.” The man shuddered. He didn’t cry. This was the undercity. No one here had their life guaranteed.

As the man left, both Sevika and the doctor went back into the tent. Sevika stared at the body as the doctor retrieved the whisky from earlier. “I’m gonna drink.” She said, an indirect invite to join.

“Give me a glass.”

She nodded and poured two glasses. She handed it to Sevika and she downed it in almost a minute. “What did you do to him?” She asked.

“I gave him morphine. Too much to survive. He wasn’t going to anyway.”

“You could’ve given him a chance.” Sevika frowned, still staring at the lifeless body.

“The only chance he would’ve had is if we stopped him from taking it in the first place.” She said quietly, walking back to the couch. She looked at the body, then back to Sevika. “I did what I could.”

“You- You fuckin’ killed him! You did what you could- Bullshit!” Sevika threw the glass, it shattered against the ground louder than expected.

The doctor jumped, looking like a child watching her parents fighting. “He was going to die anyway! Much more painfully!” She said, standing up.

“You act like I haven’t seen this kind of thing before-“ The doctor defended herself, her cheeks growing warm. She hated conflict, especially the kind that involved being alone with a large woman in a tent that was secluded. Not that she was worried Sevika would do anything. Silco needed her, or at least that’s what he made it seem like…

“But I have.” she finished off, her voice raw and full of heavy emotions. “There’s been nights you weren’t here, where I stayed up for hours monitoring and watching, holding people's hands while they suffered a pain I caused them.. you don’t get to come in here and poke fingers at me when I’m the one who has to end their lives!”

By the end she was panting, her once neatly tied back hair now framed her face from all the excitement. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, grief, and something else that she couldn’t quite place herself.

Sweat dripped from her forehead in little droplets that beaded onto her chest, now more exposed from having to dispose of the contaminated shirt from before. The soft glow of the lanterns lighting up the tent illuminated her face, highlighting the curl of her lips that were currently in a snarl, and the thicker furrowed brows that were slowly returning to their normal resting position as she calmed down.

“You fucking…” Sevika trailed off, her tongue running over her teeth. Her eyes trailed down her body, lavishing over her without care. If she weren’t royally pissed off right now, she may have found her hot. Sevika frowned and glared at her. “Fine. Too fucking late now.” She came closer, observing the body. “How do we dispose of it- of him.” She knew she was too used to people simply being ‘its’.

The doctor shifted on her feet, just now starting to feel the dull ache settle in from being on them all day. She knew exactly how she disposed of them, she’d been doing it for quite some time now. But… she didn’t want to say. It was, frankly, too embarrassing. Too vulnerable.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” the doctor brought a hand up to her forehead, wiping the beads of sweat from it, cringing a little at the wetness. She stepped back, grabbing the bottle of the now half full whiskey and brought it to her lips, taking a good, 5 second chug. She resisted the urge to cringe at the unfamiliar taste, and the burning that took hostage of her throat. Wiping her lips after, and ignoring the salty taste of her own skin, she placed the bottle back down, steadying herself on her desk.

“That’s enough for you, little girl.” Sevika said with a smirk that said ‘I’m better than you.’ Her attitude switched too quickly to be anything but forced. She had to be fine with death. There was nothing for her but. “Give it here.” She said as she yanked the bottle from her hands with her metal arm, Sevika’s unnatural strength too much to fight. Her arm rotated in strange ways to lift the bottle to her mouth, lips sealing around it as she chugged the rest of it. It took nearly ten seconds to finish. She smiled patronizingly and threw the bottle down next to the broken cup.

The doctor felt her eye twitch, a low growl bubbling from the back of her throat. “I have enough shit to deal with here, I don’t need to add ‘cleaning up temper tantrums’ or pissing contests to my agenda” The alcohol was already starting to take effect, her head growing heavy with a buzz that left her feeling fearless, and unaware of the consequences she might have to face come morning time.

Sevika snickered. “Yeah? Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.” She smiled, but it wasn’t one that made the doctor feel any better. It was almost sickening. She looked ravenous. She looked like she need to either fuck or fight someone. “But remember, I only take your orders because Silco says I should.” She said, her smile slipping. She turned and started to walk away before turning back. “And watch your mouth. You don’t wanna fuck with me.” She flashed a smirk then left the tent, leaving the mess behind her. Though, she didn’t leave, not fully, she stayed in the area. She wanted to see what she would do with the body, her curiosity too strong to fight. Today, anyway.

The doctor ran a hand through her hair, her other stabilizing herself on the table. A shaky sigh left her lips. Her thoughts were filled with confliction. Anger, frustration, and… attraction. It pissed her off.

With a huff, she turned and grabbed the items she would need to properly… dispose of the body laying next to her. Gloves, a shovel, a wheelbarrow, gasoline, and a match.

She covered herself with a spare coat she had, putting on her goggles, gloves, and a gas mask before she used the shovel to lift his body into the wheelbarrow, holding onto the handles for support after with a pant. Bodies were heavy, and she wasn’t necessarily in the best shape, not like Sevika.

She made her way to the spot she always used, a secluded area at the end of Zaun’s fissure, Sevika in tow, though not to her knowledge.

The doctor tried to be gentle as she dumped the body from the hopper, wincing at the harsh sound his body made as he rolled from it, his limbs limply following in pursuit. She sighed, rubbing her damp forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. She hated this part.

She didn’t have the time to bury him, nor the stamina to dig the hole, so she relied on burning. She sat him up against the giant rock wall, positioning his body as someone taking a peaceful nap, closing his eyes with gentle fingers.

“I’m sorry.” She croaked, shoulders slumped, and tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t cry normally, not anymore anyway, but tonight, with the mix of emotions and alcohol, she wasn’t in control of her tear ducts.

Sevika would’ve made a noise of disbelief, if it wouldn’t have gotten her spotted. She almost respected the efficiency she moved with, as if she had an ounce of control over herself. Even while drunk or high out of their mind, Zaunites always had to have control, at least over their tears and fear.

Although, there was something almost attractive about seeing a Piltie doing this kind of stuff. Something degenerate and sick, something that came from craving others to go through the pain she did. Or maybe, seeing something once so innocent be corrupted.

The doctor moved back, reaching for the bottle of gasoline, pouring it gently through his hair, watching as it dripped down his cheeks and jaw, and finally down to soak his clothing. Guilt bit at her, even though she knew there was nothing she could do. But surely, there had to be a way, somehow, to save people like him. She just hadn’t found it yet. And that was the worst part of it.

Taking a deep breath, she lit the match using her boot, setting the collar of his shirt ablaze, before putting it out on the ground and stepping back. She couldn’t watch him burn, that would simply be too much, in a way. She turned, shoulders still hunched in a sort of… defeat and shame. Shame that she couldn’t save him, or any of the other bodies she had done the same routine with. And defeat, that she didn’t even know where to start in being able to save those lost people, or any for that matter.

She didn’t think of herself as a healer, as a savior. No, that was bullshit. She knew she was just keeping these people alive until their shimmer addictions inevitably killed them. But what else was she supposed to do? Refuse them? It was all out of her hands now. She just had to trust that Silco was the man he said he was, and got the people of Zaun out of the mess that it was.

With a final sigh as her goodbye, she walked back to her tent, taking off everything she was wearing and throwing it to the ground to sanitize it later. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep. So sleep she did, curled up on one of the cots, wallowing with the scratchy blanket that was left there by one of her past patients. Sleep took her dreamlessly, for once in her life, the alcohol helped with that.

Sevika watched the doctor walk away and finally reach a point where she couldn't see her. She felt herself relax, though not much. She left her hiding space, an overhang area she’d silently climbed up onto, lurching off of the platform and trudging over to the burning body. For a moment, she just stared, her face in a tight scowl.

The fumes burned her throat, but it took her a moment to even notice, waiting until she physically couldn’t take a breath. She put on the mask she carried with her, a cheap one that could fold small enough to hide. The air of the fissures itself usually wouldn't bother her, but she carried one just in case.

She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears of many years yearning to escape, the day- no, the months of grief and anger catching up on her. But she wouldn’t let them fall. Tears were a sign of weakness, and she wasn’t weak.

Slowly, she reached for a compartment in her arm, where she held extra shimmer vials. She opened it, taking one and throwing it into the fire, as some sort of… offering. For forgiveness. She peeled off a piece of dead skin on her lip, savoring the pain and blood, before walking away, already missing the heat of the flames kissing her skin. Maybe she’d replace it with the heat of one of the brothel girls… She needed it.

#arcane sevika #sevika #arcane #no arcane spoilers #sevika x reader #cowritten with migi #chapter fic #slow burn #lesbians #sevika x you #arcane fic #arcane x reader #aarons-fics

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eldritch-spouse · 8 months ago

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I slam the door with frustration, spooking the angel patiently waiting by the door. I haphazardly throw my coat on the floor before grabbing the celestial’s hand and stomping into the living room. Forcing him to sit on the couch, I turn on the tv for noise and hastily unbutton his suit. “I need you now. Had a bad day and you will help me relieve stress.”

In different years, Belo would find this way of life to be slightly insulting.

He's a warrior after all, a power. His kind belongs outside, patrolling, securing the well-being of lessers, fighting for the honor of their Highers and holding the safety of Eden on their shoulders.

Ah, but those days are gone. Long gone. His vision glazes sometimes, wet and torpid eyes lamenting the fate of many of his brethren. They, unlike him, didn't have the fortitude to handle their own abandonment, the newfound fruitlessness of their very existence.

It's one thing to never know what the meaning of your existence is. It's another thing to have that meaning embedded in your very core and never be able to fulfill it again. Sometimes Belo envies that freedom, that ambivalence of simply existing because you can, because you were made.

Also unlike him, his kin did not have the miraculous luck to find someone like his Lady. His Lady-Worship, his beam of light in a universe ready to swallow him in its poisonous darkness. The guiding hand in a world so new and so different, so degenerate. So horrid! As amazing and radiant as you are, Belo shudders when he thinks about how you made it this far intact without a celestial by your side.

With new meaning come new duties, understandably.

As Belo still needs to learn quite a lot to understand the symbolism of this new age, he worries himself with protecting your sanctum, making it the best version of itself, and keeping it painfully, effectively warded against all threats- Especially that fiendish "neighbor" you have, what disgusting absolutely abhorrent lifeform it is! Noxious creature!

But alas, your benevolence knows no bounds. Not only have you welcomed him into your life, you refuse to let that wretched pest meet its end. Truly, you are too good for this lost planet.

Now.

Back to his current task.

The sanctum is spotless, but alas, Belo was never taught how to prepare meals for lessers. It was not the type of discipline delivered to his cast. A guardian would know this, even a principality! But not him, not a power. Unfortunate and unacceptable- He must show adaptation and flexibility unlike ever before!

Which is why that uhm... Digital movie playing contraption you have comes in so very handy.

He never thought he'd be learning to cook from lessers, but here Belo is, hoping against all odds that he doesn't ruin the eggs this time. It's not that he can't handle objects in a gentle manner, it's that he's never had to taste things. Therefore, he doesn't know how to create the correct flavor.

And Lords forbid he ever present his Lady with something foul-tasting!

The power is sure he's got it down correctly this time however. Belo has just finished putting the eggs on the plate he intends to present you with, when he stills.

An acute sense of alertness and hearing means a lifeform like him is always aware of the movement around your apartment complex. He knows when your neighbors leave and arrive, which parts of their homes they're in... This also means that he knows when you're nearby, having memorized the noise of your vehicle -Such a shame that he can't accompany you to some locations- And the jingle of your mildly irritating keychain.

The angel scrambles to put everything together, wanting to be at the door with his offering in full display, so eager to see you-

The door rips open.

Only a nick of time allows Belo to secure his painfully crafted work of mediocre culinary, lest it be swatted to the ground. Sharpened eyes spare you great concern.

His Lady exudes frustration. Although his rank is not the most emotionally attuned, Belo senses a cloud of negativity choking you, your glorious features drained and tense. He's overcome with emotion.

" My- My Lady! Whatever happened today? Did you get hurt? Who d- "

The force with which you grip his hand is surprising for a human, dragging the angel only because he always allows you to. The food lies forgotten on the nearest surface. It's by his ever subservient attitude that you can toss Belo to the couch too, his silent confusion following when you activate the bigger display box.

" I need you now. " You begin, patience depleted. " Had a long day and you will help me relieve stress. "

He squawks the same way he does whenever his Worship starts these encounters without proper warning, wings fluttering and fur fluffing in a mixture of shock and anticipation. He fears that a part of him may enjoy getting pleasurably surprised more than any self-respecting angel should.

" But... " He knows it's not a good idea to challenge you, trembling as the last of his covering is undone. " You should eat b-before I service you, my Lady, many hours have passed- "

" I'll eat when I can't feel my legs. " The snarl you give Belo sends shudders down his spine, and he bashfully, albeit inwardly happily, readjusts to spread his legs for you.

" Excuse me but that hardly sounds healthy... "

His cock pokes out a furred slit, beading and twitching to interest. Although Belo becomes uncomfortably erect the moment you recklessly undress before him. It was not, as a filthy demon would put it, a slutty display. It was raw need, irritation and pure dominance. It was a side of his Worship he had yet to witness.

Belo refuses to ever admit it aloud, he cannot, he will not! But... But oh, the sins of the flesh. No, when provided by the superiors, they are not sins, they are gifts. They cannot be wrong. It's not wrong for Belo to enjoy your physical rewards for his work, but it is perhaps sinful of him to lust for more, to so eagerly hope that you'll allow him such pleasures when he performs certain tasks.

He does not touch his aching length because he's not allowed to. His pleasure is for you to decide upon, of course.

The angel prepares to slide down on his knees when you shove him back on the cushions by the shoulder.

Three eyes blink at you. " Am... Am I not to service you, my Goddess? "

You usually enjoy the touch of his fingers upon your most intimate zones, for training him is easy, and Belo adored the sounds of your approval. You did also curiously enjoy grinding over his face, a sensation that often left him pointlessly thrusting against nothing.

None of that today, it seems.

" Shut up. "

He was about to reply with a reflexive 'Yes, my Lady' before catching himself.

When you straddle him, the celestial only tilts his head, figure heated, but never expecting you to simply line him up with your entrance and slam yourself down.

Had he not been in the midst of breathlessly throwing his head back, Belo would have died from worry. As holy as you are, you share the stature of humanity, and Belo knows -F-From common sense, of course!- That his organ is not the same size of a human's at all.

He tries to articulate his concern, but the squeeze of your core around him is hypnotic and sickeningly euphoric. Belo can only hold onto full hips and cry his delight while you mercilessly hammer down on his cock, milking all the pleasure you can from him.

His melodious whines and resounding moans -Something he ought to control- rise in intensity as Belo loses himself and begins rutting senselessly, the tip of his dick nuzzling spots that make the two of you go stupid.

" Don't you dare cum yet! "

He wails, physically wails, body trembling so hard it almost spasms in his effort to reign his movements. " N- Never, never my Lady! I'm good, I'll relieve you- I'm good! "

And as if to confirm it, your serious complexion finally morphs into a self-satisfied grin, all lidded eyes and gentle, mocking affection.

He's the one that's not getting any relief soon.

#Belo oc #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #terato tag #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terat0philliac #not sfw #monster x human #monster x reader #minors dni

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kryptznnn · 3 months ago

Text

♡/♛- It's Been A While

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➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 2.1k uu slow burn, second chance, ex-lovers, medication/pill usage, dissociation, anxiety mentions.

➸a.i; - omg new category!! im working a lot guys brace w me!! ill be working on other masterlists and stories and such trustttt, also this is going to be a fanfic!! no more one-shots sorry for the torture

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♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

"Please, there has to be some other way. I'm already busy enough here, this is way out of my league." You complained, tossing your hands up in the air.

"There is no other way" your supervisor responded, you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"There's no one else available to take on this job?" You asked your boss, who only nodded as he sat at his table with crossed arms.

This was unbelievable, you of all people in this city and they choose you. You're one of the busiest women out there, especially outside of your so called 'once in a blue moon hero duty'. You're part of a government organization for fuck's sake, your entire job is to stay under wraps. You had people who depended on you, a firm to carry on your shoulders as second in command to your chief, just to give it all up to become a teacher back at your high school.

"As of now the school could use all the extended help they can get. You have connections to the school and have learned there before, plus all other heroes with solid quirks that would work in their favor are either already working there or are too busy to be there for hours on end, but you can." He said in a cool tone, handing you all of the paperwork and pointing to the amount of damage and casualties that happened during the accident, you only closed your eyes and shook your head.

"Okay" you said softly, picking up the papers and stacking them in order, placing them in your folder and shoving the folder in your work bag, not wanting to argue. He thanked you for your cooperation and told you you'd start the beginning of next week, Monday. Today was Thursday, giving you a little time to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

Of course, as any normal person you were curious, thousands of questions running through your mind which you were sure you'd get answers to during the tour and explanation that was awaiting you over the weekend.

You weren't too concerned about working or teaching students, you'd already knew all about them and had also known you'd cover a chemistry class, you were concerned about using your quirk.

The last time you had used it in the face of danger, things didn't end well for you. It's a great quirk yes, but the aftermath and side effects of it always left a heavy toll on you.

It truly was an accident, well not really. It was ruled out as a case of self-defense and your firm was to cover the damages. You were out with a friend from work until a large commotion was heard outside, where you two had stepped out, ready to leap into action and help whoever was in need.

Apparently, it was a hijack situation on a train in the city, that was now approaching downtown at an insane amount of speed. Your friend had already agreed she'd help escort people out of the way and into safer zones, in case the bus had crashed in the area you and hundreds of other people were in.

You nodded in response, quickly thinking what around you could've been useful to possibly slow it down or bring it to a stop in time to call for reinforcements.

Unfortunately, a child had wandered off into the middle of the road ahead of you without realizing it, and without thinking you ran up, covering her with your body and you held out your hand to shield her, shutting your eyes tightly and using your quirk.

Unintentionally, you had now turned the train into water, wetting you and all other people downtown that were trying to avoid the train crash. Thankfully for you the train was a rather medium sized one, so the water produced from the train by your quirk hadn't caused any damage downtown.

You quickly stood up with the little girl by your side, who quickly ran to accompany her mother once she spotted her in the crowd. You stood there in awe, looking at everyone else and turning back around, seeing the hijackers now sitting on the floor, dripping from head to toe in water.

You were slightly relieved, thankful you hadn't turned them into water. Soon after your friend accompanied you to, tying up the three troublemakers and leaving them off to the side and awaiting law-enforcement to arrive.

Having the powers of matter transmutation meant the world was your canvas, all you had to do was touch it. Creating any matter, you had into something you wanted to, but the only downside being that you weren't able to convert things to people or animals, whether living or not.

You didn't necessarily see it as a bad side, it honestly could be a blessing in disguise, especially since you had such a wild imagination when you were younger.

As you grabbed your belongings from your office and made your way back to your car you began to think about your first day working at the high school.

You loved children, well... most of them. Teenagers now were such pains in the ass, and you've had your fair share with a few, either being rude, weird, or just freaky horn-dogs that obviously weren't loved enough by their parents.

Hopefully things wouldn't go back when you start, and you didn't have to use your quirk as often as all other teachers in the school do.

Unlocking the door to your car you opened it and placed your bag inside as you sat in the driver's seat, starting your car and driving off back to your apartment.

After around 5 to 10 minutes of driving you stop at a red light, resting your head back onto your seat with a sigh, mentally drained for the day. As you waited for the light to change color you felt as if a pair of eyes were on you, before you were able to turn around and see who it was the light had turned green, you only shrugged it off and drove off, keeping your mind on how Monday would be.

Maybe it was the students or the teachers, but an uneasy feeling rested in your stomach, making you feel wheezy. It definitely was the thought of the teachers, more or so your new colleagues.

Well not new colleagues, more like old friends and companions. You knew them all well enough, being classmates and close friends back in high school and distancing after graduation and everyone else focusing on going professional in the hero department.

You had always envisioned yourself as a hero there, waiting to fight side by side with everyone, but towards the end you realized that without having proper control of your quirk you were probably safe enough to not do so. Protecting yourself and everyone else in case of an accident or any immediate dangers.

Guilt slowly began to eat you alive as you arrived in the parking lot of your apartment complex, parking and shutting your car off before taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply.

This was not going to go your way, and you know it.

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It was now Monday morning and honestly, that 3-day weekend wasn't enough to prepare yourself for what was to come. You hadn't gotten any sleep from the night before out of overthinking, and honestly you weren't even tired.

Your brain's constant buildup of stress has been keeping you up for a while and was the right amount of motivation you needed to get this day over with. You had gone to the small training practices and tours of the school over the weekend, seeing new buildings and practice rooms that were extended from when you previously attended.

You had decided to get ready 2 hours in advance, showering and now doing a small amount of skincare before doing your makeup. Even with your quirk and all of the stuff you'd bought for your skin, even the thought of stress makes you begin to breakout, you sighed as a pimple appeared on the upper left corner of your forehead. You only shook your head and began to apply your makeup, finishing a little later than you expected because you couldn't decide if you wanted lashes on or not.

You made the decision to wear them, first impressions are everything. You fixed your hair in a style you liked, deciding to keep it down instead of a ponytail with a side part and gathered your things and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting out the door.

The closer and closer you were getting to the school the more your stomach churned out of anxiety. It could've been anxiety, or maybe the fact you skipped out on breakfast just to be here early, as all teachers must arrive before the students. Whatever it was you didn't like it at all, and you felt your head begin to spin.

"Not again" you whispered to yourself, now opening your glove department looking around for your prescribed medications, pushing past the other 3 you didn't need now until you found one that read 'Valium', opening the capsule and taking a pill, realizing you had nothing to take or drink it down with.

You sighed heavily as you took the bottle with you, grabbing your coat from the back of your driver seat along with your bag and shoving the pills in your coat pocket. Soon locking your car and placing your keys in the bag as well, beginning to walk your way over to the building.

You needed to find something to drink so you could take this pill, before your anxiety gets the best of you and your quirk gets out of hand. You reached for your phone in your pocket and checked the time, barely 7:30, perfect. It's too early for classes to start when everyone gets situated at 8:00-8:10, where could you kill time with a cup of water or anyth-

The teachers' lounge, oh yeah, it's shocking how quickly you forgot about it when you were here not even 48 hours ago. You walked inside taking a left, praying your memory wasn't playing tricks on you as you walked over to the supposed teachers' lounge, hearing small chatter and commotion.

The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention onto yourself, you quickly entered and made your way to the back, walking slowly praying your heeled boots didn't make too loud of a noise.

You quickly spotted a large fancy water dispenser, clasping your hands together as you looked up and mouthing the words 'amen' before grabbing a small white silicon cup and pouring some for yourself.

In one swift movement you dug into your pocket, pulling out your pill bottle and opening it, taking one and placing it on your tongue as you closed the capsule, putting it back in your pocket. Your cup that was now filled with water you chugged down and refilled it to take another to attempt to flood out the aftertaste, until you were stopped.

Before you could lift the cup up to your lips you were immediately lifted into the air from behind, listening to a familiar voice cheer your name. You immediately went into a panic, turning your previous cup of water, now into nothing but sand, pouring over you and the arms around your lower waist.

"Hizashi!!" You shouted, now trying to pry yourself out of his grasp, your feet swinging in the air as he laughed, quickly putting you down. You immediately scoffed and dusted yourself off, rolling your eyes at his comments and horrible jokes, bending down to the small sand pile you created, forming it back into a silicone cup before throwing it away.

"It's good to see you again seriously, I'm surprised you agreed to come here seeing why you left, with your new fancy job and all." He said, placing his hand on your shoulder and pretending to wipe a fake tear, you only shook your head and smiled at him.

He hasn't changed at all since you last saw him nearly a decade ago, it warmed your heart honestly. You only responded in agreement to his saying, hugging him as he did back to you.

He wasted no time in bringing you to the other side of the teachers' lounge, where you reunited with old friends and shared a few laughs and nice memories before you were all abruptly stopped by hearing a loud slam of the door opening.

As luck would have it, you had another cup in your hand that had coffee in it as the incident occurred, but thankfully your medication had kicked in. You panicked as you nearly spilled the coffee onto yourself, taking a sigh of relief as you moved in time, spilling partial of it onto the floor. Smiling to yourself slightly as you felt the dosage of your medication now starting to affect your mind, making you disassociate.

As everyone paid their attention to the door and expressed words with one another you had bent over, using your quirk and making your coffee spill on the floor a small tissue.

You picked it up and turned to throw it away, completely blocking out the sounds of everyone's voices and small laughter as you made your way to the same trashcan as before, bumping into someone.

"I'm sorry" you said, snapping out of your small trance and zoning back into reality, turning your head to the side to see whose shoulder's you had hit, only to lock eyes with them instantly.

"Shota" you said, nearly breathless as if at a loss for words, he looked at you in shock,

No this wasn't shock,

It seemed to be sadness

maybe sorrow?

"Y/n" he replied, quickly looking away from you and walking away, your eyes trailed his figure as he left.

Out of everything that had happened this morning, and the effects of your medication, you completely forgot that your past lover worked here, and you'd be working alongside him.

He only went over to the coffee table, grabbing a cup and exiting the room, you only looked over to Hizashi and Nemuri, nibbling on your bottom lip. They glanced over to one another, then looked back at you, each placing their hand on each of your shoulders as the bell rang for everyone to get to class.

You were right, this wasn't going to go your way, at all.

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��🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

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