#i love LOVE the idea of the first scenario too

[annab-nana]

february sleepover

OPEN UNTIL SATURDAY, FEB 8TH AT 11:59 PM EST

she's back :)

who am i if not a fan of a good sleepover? we all love them lol there’s no real reason other than just for fun but there will be some valentine's and regular prompts as well so we’ve got a variety and you are also more than welcome to send in your own ideas/concepts too! let’s get into the rules and prompts and get this thing started

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rules

please check my request faqs & guidelines before making a request as well as who i write for. if you want me to write for someone new, just ask me before sending in a request but everyone on that list is fair game

when requesting, you can either copy and paste the prompts or put the letter of the list and the number of the prompt together (ex: b1 is "you have a date? how much did you pay them?" because it’s the first prompt from the b list) if you don’t want to use a prompt from below, you can always send in your own concept/scenario

if you request for a sam, steve, or jonathan, please include their last name so i know which to write for. if it’s sent on anon without a last name, then i’m going to pick one

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prompts

list a - valentine's list by trope (if you don't copy and paste the prompt for this one, please specify which trope you are pulling the prompt from)

list b - valentines enemies to lovers

list c - valentines dialogue & scenarios (if you don't copy and paste the prompt for this one, specify dialogue or scenario)

list d - injury

list e - body language descriptions

list f - one bed

list g - quiet acts of love

* = let me know which section you’re pulling from if you don’t copy and paste the prompt and use a letter/number combo instead

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tag list: @bradleybeachbabe @marjorie189 @lifeineverycolor @jellyfishbeansontoast @drewsephrry @fiction-is-life

to be added to the tag list, click here!

[short-honey-badger]

Hello!

This is the first time ever that I ask for a writing to a headcanon and it’s exciting. :) I have been eating up your Shamrock/Shanks writings, love them!

There is this idea living in my head that the female reader

a) falls very ill

b) gets poisoned by rivals of the Figarland family

And is then discovered by Shamrock who comes looking for us, wondering why we don’t react to him calling our name.

In both scenarios mentioned, the reader is then lying in bed and very weak, suffering and slipping in and out of consciousness.

Meanwhile, Shamrock deals with guilt, fear and shock about this even happening right under his nose

Shanks of course would be there too, angry with his brother for not looking out enough for Reader

I know this is very angsty (think about that scene from Gone with the Wind where Scarlett fell down the stairs and was ill) and I am not sure if you said anywhere that this isn’t something you would like to write about.

Still, I would love to see what you make of this little snippet. :) Your Shamrock characterization is great 👍

Okay anon. This was probably one of my favorite ones I've done so far so thank you dearly for the wonderful prompt. I hope I have done it justice! ❤️❤️

Watch me Wither

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader x Figarland Shamrock

Warnings! Not many? Angsty sick fic

Shamrock Masterlist-> HERE

Shamrock stands vigil over your still form, lips set in a harsh frown. It's been three days, and still your condition has yet to improve. Guilt eats at him, knowing that if he had listened to his brother for once that this wouldn't have happened. That you, their most precious person, would not be lying here still as a corpse. How could he let this happen when he had sworn to you that you would be safe here with him?

When you don't come to his office to share lunch with the leader of the Holy Knights, Shamrock knows that there is something going on. He stands from his desk and leaves his office, booted feet slapping against the stone of his home as he navigates the halls to the room he had set you up in a month ago.

Shanks had argued against you staying in Marie Geoise with Shamrock, seemingly convinced that you would be happier, safer with him and his crew. Shamrock had scoffed and rolled his eyes at his younger twin, lips pursed and arms crossed.

“She will be perfectly fine here with me, safe where no bloody pirates can steal her away when you aren't paying attention.��

Shanks had rolled his eyes but backed down, face set in a scowl as he turned on his heel to go tell you goodbye.

Shamrock knocks on your door, knowing that you value your privacy, but when you didn't answer after several moments, the holy knight turned the handle and strode inside. He stalks forward, scowl on his face as he comes to a stop beside your bed. He can see the lump you make under the blankets and calls your name, but still, there is no response from you. He rolls his eyes and reaches out, pulling the quilt down and freezing when he sees the yellow pallor of your face, your hair weighed down by sweat.

His heart siezed in his chest, eyes going wide as he reached out, on ehand wrapping around your shoulder and shaking you gently, “Darling, my love, please, wake up.”

A wretched groan left your mouth, eyes cracking open just enough that he could see the way your pupils had shrunk, tiny pinpoints surrounded by the dull color of your iris and bloodshot white sclera.

He had jumped into action when you fell back into unconsciousness seconds later, eyes drooping and body going lax in his hold. Shamrock had scooped you up and ran like he had never before, heedless of puting up a front in front of the servants and other members of his household until he made it to the room that their personal healer stayed. He’d woken Jurgan, demanding that the old man examine you, and what he found had made dreaded guilt well up inside the holy knight.

Someone, either an enemy of the Figarland household or one of their enemies, had poisoned you.

Now Shamrock could do nothing but regret his choice in keeping you here. He had called Shanks on the second day that you were admitted into the medical ward, and had sat still and silent as his twin lay into him, furious at Shamrock for allowing this to happen right under his nose. He deserved the dressing down, and it only added to his guilt and fear that because of him, they would never see that shy little grin that was only meant for them, ever again.

Shanks had told him that he would be back as quickly as he could, wanting to be there for his twin and for you if you ever happened to wake for longer periods of time. Shamrock had just quietly agreed, not feeling the need to argue against his younger brother, not when you were in such a delicate position.

You would wake long enough each day that Shamrock for drip water into your mouth, his eyes intent as he watched you slowly consume the liquid before you would drop back off, still too weak to do much but slowly recover. Jurgan had purged your system with a concoction of drugs, but even then, the doctor had informed him that it may not be enough for you to pull through. Only time would tell.

Shamrock didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t make it. You had become an extension of his life, a need that he would happily let consume him if only to receive your soft hands and sweet attitude that you rewarded him and Shanks with. Raging guilt eats at him, knowing that he failed you, that the promise he had made you and Shanks has been broken by being too prideful, too sure in the knowledge that you would be safe in his home.

A low groan gains his attention, and Shamrock cuts his eyes down at you, loping forward to grasp your hand in his own when he sees your hand twitch in his direction. You grip his fingers weakly, and the holy knight kneels by your side, burgundy eyes soft as he reaches out with his other hand to gently card his fingers through your hair. You look pitiful, but it gives him hope that you are beginning to feel better when you crack your eyes open to meet his own.

“Sham?”

Your voice is scratchy with disuse, but Shamrock is just happy to hear your voice. He squeezes your fingers, the hand in your hair smoothing down to cup your cheek, “I’m here, darling.”

Shamrock doesn’t know what to do or how he could make you feel better other than just by being at your side. His father had huffed and sneered, telling his older son that he needed to get over this, and get back to his duties, but the redhead found that he was always pulled back to your side, unable to be away from you for too long.

“Red?” You rasp quietly and frown when Shamrock shakes his head.

“Shanks is on his way, my love,” he murmurs, and the knowledge that the other twin was on the way seems to settle you, face smoothing out into something peaceful. He watches you for a while longer until your hand goes slack and you seem to slip back to sleep. Shamrock sighs and carefully disentangles his hand from yours and stands. He knows that you are unlikely to wake again in the next couple of hours, so as much as it pains him to leave your side, Shamrock does. He must before his father comes to collect him.

The next several days passed the same way, Shamrock would come and stay by your side, the guilt inside him eating away at him as he stared at your pale form resting under warm blankets. He would hold your hand, a silent sentinel. He seethed and raged inside his mind, furious that he was no closer to finding out the culprit behind your poisoning. He watched you wither further every day, and it killed him on the inside little by little.

Shanks arrived on the seventh day, running through the halls of a home he held no fond memories of. He ignored the sneers that were directed at him, not caring that the household thought of him as lesser just because he refused to bow to their whims. He found his twin sitting beside you in the medical ward, the other redhead looking worse than Shanks has ever seen his older brother.

“How is she?” He asks as he shuts the door behind him. He comes and stands at his twin's side, eyes wide as he stares down at you. He wanted to touch, to feel you, to make sure that you were still holding on, but he was terrified of making your condition worse.

“Better,” Shamrock murmured, voice rough from disuse. He watched his younger brother, seeing the look of fear etched on the face that looked so much like his own, and felt that same remorse well up. He drops his eyes quickly, averting them back to where you lay, “Jurgan says that she will recover, but the poison did a number on her internal organs. She will never be as strong as she once was.”

Shanks grits his teeth, his anger at his brother coming back with a vengeance. He doesn't bother looking at the other man, but his voice is tense and full of displeasure, “I told you that she wouldn't be safe here. You should have known better than to keep the one weakness you have so close. Her staying here was doomed from the start, Sham.”

Shamrock grits his teeth, shoulders hunching. He knows that Shanks is right, having already berated himself mentally more than his brother ever could.

“So you've already said last time we spoke,” He murmurs, and thankfully, Shanks doesn't say anything else about his failings. The two sit in silence, both content to watch your chest move up and down in your sleep. It isn't until there is a catch in your breath that they snap to attention.

Your brow furrows, and soft sound leaves you. You shift on the bed, arm snaking out from under the blankets, and Shanks stands, beating his brother to grasp your hand in his own. Your eyes crack open a moment later, blurry but more focused now than you seem to have been in days. You turn your head, lips pulling up in a tiny smile when you see both of your boys sitting beside you. You squeeze the hand you hold, voice scratching and throat sore.

“Shanks, you're here.”

The redhead smiles sadly, squeezing your hand back tightly, “Yeah, baby. I'm right here. How are you feeling?”

You shift with a wince to lay on your side, sliding your other hand out and reaching for the older twin. Shamrock easily slides his hand into yours, eyes soft as he stares at you.

“Better now that you're both here,” you say quietly and give them both a meager smile. You can tell, even in your pained and muddled state, that there is more than the usual tension between the two brothers. You sigh softly and squeeze Shanks’ hand again to gain his attention.

“Don't be mad, Red. This is my own fault. I should have been more careful.”

Both men widen their eyes, confused and about to argue that they are the ones who are supposed to take care of you, but you plow on before they can get a word out, “You can't be by my side every waking hour, loves. I knew this place would be dangerous even when I agreed to stay here. I got too comfortable, and that cost me.”

“But-”

You cut the holy knight off, “But nothing, Sham. You have duties, and Shanks, you have a crew to take care of. I don't want the two of you beating yourselves up or each other up.”

They watch you swallow harshly, lips moving into a weary smile full of sadness both men dearly wished they could wipe away.

“I heard what you said, Shamrock, and if it's as bad as you say it is, then I'm going to need you. Both of you.”

Shanks nods immediately, crouching down so that he can be at eye level with you. He leans forward, lips kissing your brow before he pulls back to give you a smile, “We'll be here, baby.”

Shamrock clutches your hand, still feeling that raging guilt that threatens to suffocate him, but he shoves it down for now. You were right. They would need to be there. He leans in and kisses your knuckles where they wrap around his hand, voice a soft promise, “Always, my love. We have you.”

You give them both a small smile, exhaustion suddenly eating away at you, and you squeeze their hands again, grip going slack as moments later, “I know.”

You are asleep seconds later, but neither man has any plans of going anywhere, not when you would need them when you woke up next. You had a long road of recovery ahead, but you would get there with them at your side.

@mit-suri @mfreedomstuff @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin

[defuckingthrone-dot-com]

A Dirty Wedding Affair 🌴🌅

Summary: Just a quick little blurb about having a One Night Stand with Noah 

Pairing: Noah x Reader

TW: Sex p in v, oral sex.

A/N: Ever since i saw this picture i thought of this scenario. I talked to @concretejunglefm about it she actually contributed to some of the ideas here. also, title by her! Any way enjoy! xx.

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

I really don't know how I got involved in this situation, I was always careful with things like this. Actually when I think about it, it wasn't really my style to do this type of thing. But here I was hiding behind a damn palm tree decoration on a small reception of this Hotel. I was trying to not get noticed by the guy whose bed I left this morning before he actually woke up. The walk of shame back to my room felt a little too real, and I guess I wasn't hiding hard enough because from the corner of my eyes I saw him walk up with a big smirk on his face.

“Are you really trying to hide behind that flimsy excuse of a palm tree?” he asked with a little bit of laughter in his tone.

“Who me? No, No why would i??” i said a bit too rushed

“Maybe because you sneaked out this morning” I wasn't expecting for him to call me out like that but he was right, i felt embarrassed and i didnt want him to see me. 

“yeah um i'm sorry?” i didn't know if apologizing would make the situation better but i tried anyway, 

His gaze lingered a little too long before he left a subtle laugh “Yeah it's good I ran into you, you forgot this Pixie..”i didn't have time to dwell on the fact he called me Pixie just like he moaned last nice with a few other choice of words because he was already pulling out the same lace pair of panties i was wearing  when i entered his room last night from his front pocket.. “Didn't want you to lose them so I kept them safe.” 

All the blood in me crept onto my cheeks and I can confidently say that I wasn't blushing anymore, I was bleeding red. I realized what was happening and in one quick move I snatched the panties from his hand. 

You're probably wondering how I got here? Well, I'll have to relieve the last 72 hrs for you to understand, so here i go!

It all started when I arrived here, this wasn't a vacation per say but I did plan on having the most fun I could before I had to go back to boring reality back home. My best friend from childhood was getting married this weekend. She had chosen to get married at the beach, which was great for me. I loved the tropical weather and I could enjoy a bit more tanning. 

The first time I saw him I was laid in a lounge chair by the pool. I was grabbing the the book i was reading in one hand and a glass of lemonade on the other, i saw walk in front of me and walk around the edge of said pool to reach the other side, he was with what assume to be his friends, i vaguely remember thinking how i did have Maid of Honor duties to fulfill but not until later that night so stayed a little too long in my spot.

I saw how his colorful tattoos shined under the water with the sun hitting them. he had a little bun of hair on the top of his, and he seem to be just about the tallest man i ever seen, The most gorgeous brown that have ever crossed paths with me, 

He seemed like a lot of fun, and started from my seat. I was wearing sunglasses and half of them covered my face. I thought I was being cautious and not obvious but when he turned to look my way an almost hazy took over me.

Luckily he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at one of his friends that was passing by me going towards him.

I didn't want to seem like a creep so I decided to just get up and go back into my room. I would be lying if I thought he was very attractive but way out of my league but I probably would never see him again so why even bother thinking such a thing. 

The second encounter was by the bar just down the street of the hotel. I probably shouldn't have drank anything before the wedding but I fear I was more nervous than the actual bride. I wanted to take a shot or two before I had to be back to get ready. i sat at one end of the bar when i saw him reaching the other end, he sat down and other his drink,

He was alone this time, i tried not look his way as the bartender put my vodka soda in front of me and maybe i was being paranoid but i could sense his eyes on me, I pulled out my cell phone from my phone and decided to scroll just so i could have something to do and not look dumb. After about of 10 minutes i decided it was time to go i paid for my drinks at headed, 

Once again this was the last time i would probably see him but was i so wrong, 

The wedding had started and everything was going to plan. The music started playing and as the maid of honor I made my way down the aisle to stand by the sidelines. As my best friend walked down the most beautiful princess and the emotions started to come afloat I saw him once again. He was sitting in the 3rd row of chairs. 

My eyes grew wide, I didn't know why I felt the tension, I haven't even crossed words with him once so it was a bit dumb for me to feel this way. I couldn't run so I was just still until the ceremony had ended, But i could tell even by the side of my eye that at that point he was looking at me with a small smile. 

After the beautiful ceremony and my sweat induced head we moved to where the location for the party would be.

I was having such a good time, I mingled amongst the guests, everything was going perfect and I couldn't be more happy for my best friend Bailey. I didn't want my social battery to run out and as the liquid in my glass, I made my way down to the bar. I ordered a vodka soda and as I reached for it and turned around I nearly fell on my ass, I bumped into someone and it almost made my drink spill on my dress. I didn't pay attention to who was standing in front of me as I was trying to clean with my hands the small droplets that did manage to land on my dress.

“If i didn't know any better i would think you are stalking me” i heard a  voice.

“what..? i don't even know who..” as i looked up to meet his eyes i saw who exactly it was “are…” my voice started to windle down.

“3 times in the span of 48 hours seems like a very unlikely crazy coincidence” 

“i don't know what you mean” i tried to stay confidently 

“3 times, darling, 1. by the pool, 2. at the bar down the street this morning and 3. this wedding” he must sense the sheer panic and embarrassment in my eyes “you know i'm just kidding right?” he let out a soft laugh. 

“...yeah, yeah of course!” I said with a shaky laugh.

“if were going to keep running into each other it's best i introduce my self, Im Noah”

“im y/n”

“pretty name for a pretty girl”

“Uh thanks” I didn't know where to look. I was a bit shocked to actually be talking to him.

“So Maid of honor huh?” he asked intrigues.

“Yeah me and the bride we go way back, weve been bestfriends for years” i said preparing to ask him a question, “and you? Who do you know from here?” 

“The groom, we have worked together a few times” he replied back.

“So you're in the music industry, do you like sound tech or something?” i asked 

He stared at me as if i was saying something so out of the box “Not exactly, i'm in a band, and the groom has helped me and band out a lot”

“Ah that makes sense”

We decided to move our conversation over to the table where the rest of his band mates were seated. it scared me a bit how natural the conversation flowed. I was having a really good time with him and the night was almost coming to an end.

By this time both the bride and groom had already left and retreated back to their room, the only people left were the waiter cleaning up the mess and Noah and I. 

“So do you maybe want to go back to my room and chill for a bit..i mean if you would like of course” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes,

I hesitated for a bit, but after a moment I thought nothing wrong could go bad. 

“yeah sure that sounds great” 

We walked down the long hallways of the hotel to catch the elevator, we both knew there was a sexual tension between us and as soon as the doors closed to start ascending the correct floor, his lips were on mine. A sweet slow passionate kiss, where his tongue andmine where dancing in unison

The elevator door couldn't open fast enough, and a brief second we were already outside his door. He struggled to get his key card out of his pocket and as soon as the door he led me over to his bed. He laid me down while he balanced his wight on top of mine 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked 

All i could do was nod, I was too far in and too intrigued on his bedroom skills to say no.

He took over my mouth once more, another kiss, this one more chaotic and wild then the last. He started to slowly pull down the straps of my dress while I in a frantic motion fought to get his pants unbuttoned. 

Clothes started to fly around the room, my dress flew on the floor while my lace panties and bra ended on the side table. His button down shirt somehow made its way on top of the lamp that was sitting on the table in front of the bed, his pants and belt landing with a loud thud on the floor.

And just like that we were both naked. lost in the heat of the moment, Once his lips left mine, he started to leave a trail of tiny kisses from my jawline, down my neck, through the valley of my breast. He made a little pit stop at my navel to situate himself between my legs. Once he did so he picked right up where he left off. 

He overlooked my core to also kiss the inner part of my thighs. I was already high due to his touch. He locked down at my core and looked like the most starved man on earth about to eat a full course meal. 

“Pretty pink pussy darling, and you're already so wet” he said as he licked his lips “may i?” 

Once again all I could do was nod. He dove in and once his tongue made contact with my click and a sweet little moan escaped from my mouth. He lapped a few more times at my pussy before he detached  and sent me into oblivion with his fingers. One finger in, slowly taking it in and out, two fingers in, he started to increase the pace of what he was doing. 

He reached just the right spot a few more times of thrusting in and out. 

“ Noah oh god i'm gonna…” I said in almost a whisper.

“No no no Pixie you're not gonna cum until I tell you to, understood?’ 

“yees”

In one swift motion he turned me around, I was now on all four and waiting for his next move. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening. and from what i could tell he rolled it on this cock with ease. 

“hold on tight darling” 

All I could grab was the pillow beside. He did not give me any sort of warning in a matter of seconds he was inside of me. Thrusting in full force. All I could think of unironically was the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails in my head; because what the song was describing was what Noag was doing to me. Fucking me like an animal.

Fast paced, hazy eyes and the smell of raw contact. He slowed down only to catch his breath.

“ah ah Noah..” the moans were escaping my mouth, unable to control them. “It feels so good.”

:”Pixie you're so tight.. So fitting… sooo” Once final thrust in and we were both seeing stars. 

He collapsed on top of me while we both tried to catch our breaths. It was the most exhilarating and mind blowing orgasm that i have had. 

We took a small 15 minute break to hydrate and decompose before we were at it again. By the 3rd round i was so exhausted in the best way possible that i knew come the morning it would hurt to move. The ache of my muscles started to set in and as we laid there naked and vulnerable, My eyes started to close slowly and I succumbed to sleep , no longer fighting it.

By the time I had woken up the sun had already risen, I took notice of my surroundings, slowly taking my gaze through the room until they landed on the spot on the bed next me. 

There he laid asleep covered with a simple white sheet from his waist down, His tattoos brighter than i've seen them the last 3 days. Panic set in my gut, when I looked at my own body, I was completely naked. I scrambled to get off the bed and look for my clothes. I found my dress and my bra but nowhere insight into where my panties would be. I didn't want to wait around for Noah to wait up and kick me out of his room, so I put on what I did find and took my heels in my hand and slowly and quietly made my way to my room. 

Now fast forward to this afternoon where I was face to face again with him. 

“thanks for keeping them… safe.. you know?” i sad blushing and putting them in my purse

“No problem darling, i have a feeling this won't be the last time we run into each other” he said walking away only to turn around in a moment and wink at me. 

I couldn't help but let out a little laugh because I too believed this wasn't going to be the last time we would cross paths..

[yangjungwonisms]

Noona?- YJW

This one’s a little naughty mixed with pure yearning hehe hope you enjoy!

CW: pure filth, NSFW| MDNI 18+

For as long as Jungwon can remember he had feelings for you. He distinctly remembers the very first time he met you. You were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He tried everything he could think of to get to know you but you always kept him at arms length. It also happened that you were 5 years older than him. He was never bothered by your age difference but he was a teenager when you two had met and you never saw him as more than a kid. Still, he tried to get you to notice him, your age gap never bothered him. Especially since he always acted older than his age anyways. It was hard to remember he was so much younger than you because of how mature he was. Slowly but surely you started to let your guard down around him. For one, he was finally able to get you to come over to his place alone.

You always had some kind of idea of his feelings for you. But you were never in a position to allow yourself to imagine any scenario where you two could be together. But lately, you had started to think about him differently. Most of the time you felt confused about your own evolving feelings for Jungwon. He may have been a teenager when you met but he had been an adult for nearly 3 years now. Would it be so wrong to let it happen?

Jungwon had been subtlety dropping hints about his attraction towards you for months now. Normal actions that weren’t inherently sexual such as him putting his hand on your lower back when holding the door open for you and walking in behind you started to shift. It was normal if you were to look at it from an outside perspective. However, his touch had started lingering. Lately he had become much touchier with you than you had ever noticed before. You tried not to overthink anything but you couldn’t help but get worked up over the little touches he’d give you every now and then. Each brush of his fingers against your leg when sitting next to you felt like electricity running through your body. Still, some small part of you was hesitant to get involved with him because of his age. However, over time you had grown accustomed to his presence, he was someone you had grown to rely on quite a bit. The attraction you felt towards each other was never just physical. Jungwon understood you in a way that almost no one else did. You weren’t just some conquest to him. No, he’d been in love with you for a long time. He’d been patient with you though, letting you come to terms with your own feelings for him on your own time. He’d had enough waiting though, he knew how you felt but didn’t understand why you were holding yourself back. He knew you two could be great together if only you’d let your guard down enough to let it happen.

Which is why, when he invited you over for dinner that night he was determined to make it happen between you two. Except when you walked into his apartment he got nervous. You looked beautiful and he couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of pride knowing you’d dressed up so pretty for him. “Wow, Noona you look beautiful all dressed up like that. Did you do all that for me”? Your face immediately turned all red. You attempted to stutter out some kind of excuse but you didn’t have one because you did indeed dress up for him. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t”. He pulled you in for a hug and helped you take off your jacket. Except he just couldn’t help but get lost in the feel of you so close to him. “Mmm and you smell good too. You’re spoiling me Noona. Do you give any of the other guys this kind of special treatment”? He knew the answer was no.

Desperate to change the subject you pull a bottle of wine out of the bag you brought. You were going to wait until dinner to drink but he had started his flirting way earlier in the night than you expected and you were gonna need liquid courage to make it through this. You go to the exact drawer where you know Jungwon keeps a corkscrew so you can open the wine. He’s quick to beat you to it, opening the drawer with ease and passing it to you. The drag of his palm against yours is near torturous, as he’s moving it as slow as humanly possible before finally depositing it in your hand. When he finally pulls his hand away from yours you feel a thin sheen of sweat start to break out over your body. Your hands seemed to be the most affected by the way you’re struggling to open the wine. Jungwon had been watching you from across the room with catlike precision. Before you can even say anything he moves to stand behind you, placing his hand over yours where you’re trying but failing miserably so to open the wine. “Let me help you”. That’s all he says before he starts guiding your movements. He’s standing so close to you that when he breathes you can feel his entire body move against yours. The feeling alone is enough to make you go weak in the knees. You’re holding your breath waiting for him to finally pull away from you. Except he doesn’t, instead he slowly turns you around so now you’re facing him but he’s somehow gotten you caged in between him and the counter. “You’re killing me, do you know that noona”? He didn’t normally call you noona this often. You didn’t like how it made you feel. “What do you mean by that won”? He brings his hand up to your face, moving a stray hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. You subconsciously lean into his touch letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in until he touched you. “Everything you do drives me crazy. I don’t think you know how hard you’re making things for me baby”. The switch from noona to baby had your stomach in knots. You’d inched your face closer to his while he was talking. You were so close that it would only take one brief movement for your lips to touch. “please Jungwon”. You didn’t even know what you were asking for but Jungwon is quick to respond. “Hmm baby? What is it, tell me”. You had closed your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath trying to calm yourself down before things went any further. “Wonie, since when do you call me baby”? You’d never called him that before but the sentiment behind it spread a dangerous heat throughout his body. “Oh baby you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to call you this”. He was barely hanging on by a thread being this close to you. “Say it again, please”. “Hmm you like when I talk to you like this baby”? God he had no idea how much you liked it. “To be honest with you won, my body feels like it’s on fire right now with how close you are to me. I can hardly think about anything else”. At that all patience he has is long gone. He succeeds in caging you all the way against the counter. From this angle you can feel every part of his body.

Jungwon was pressed up against you so snugly that he’s leaving very little to the imagination. He’s hard against your thigh, you can almost make out the exact feel of his cock from the sheer proximity. You let out a groan completely surrendering yourself to him at this point. You move your hands up to grab his collar to bridge the gap between your lips. “Fuck, just kiss me Jungwon”. He wasted no time kissing you. He’s imagined the feel of your lips against his for so long that now you’ve let him have a taste there was no going back. The kiss isn’t slow, it’s anything but. Within seconds you two are all over each other. And within minutes you two have moved from the kitchen to the hallway. He’s trying to get you into his bedroom but at the pace you’re both going it’s more likely he’s going to fuck you hard and fast against the wall.

“Fuck, can’t believe you’re letting me kiss you like this noona”. You don’t respond you just slide your hand down his body and started cupping him over his jeans. His hips stutter taking a second to try and ground himself so he doesn’t grind up into your hand. He has no concept of self control right now as he loses himself in the feeling of your hand touching his cock. “oh fuck baby, your hand feels so good on my cock”. At this point he’s losing himself in the sensation of your hand unbuttoning his jeans and sliding your hand into his pants. You waste no time running your hand up and down his shaft trying to get a feel of him. “mm you better get used to the feel of it baby because I’m gonna fuck you so hard you aren’t gonna be able to walk in the morning”.

He’s quick to push your hand out of his pants and pushes you against the wall. His body is flush against yours when he leans back in to kiss you. He takes the opportunity to push the bottom of your dress up over your hips. He’s quick to move his hand in between your thighs. He rubs his thumb over your underwear earning a shudder from you as soon he makes contact with your clit. Your head falls back against the wall leaving your mouth open in a silent moan. In one swift movement Jungwon yanks your underwear down and starts his ministrations on your clit back up. A few minutes later he has two fingers fucking in and out of you at a harsh pace. Once he’s sure you’re ready to take his cock he pulls his fingers out of you which earns him a rather loud whine from you. He pulls his pants and underwear down in one go immediately lining himself up with your entrance. You’re bracing yourself for him to push into you but instead he simply takes the tip of his cock and starts rubbing it against your clit. It only takes him a few minutes to bring you to the brink of an orgasm. “Think you could cum like this noona”? Instead of answering you grip onto his forearm to steady yourself effectively positioning yourself to grind down back and forth on his cock. “want you to fuck me please wonie”. He can only shake his head, his hands seem to have a mind of their own speeding up the pace at which his tip was rubbing your clit. “wanna make you cum like this first noona”. It only takes him another 30 seconds before you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths as you cum.

He wastes no time picking you up and lining his cock up at your entrance. He meets no resistance as he starts to fuck you against the wall. Your body barely having had enough time to recover is shaking with overstimulation. Yet you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s fucking you so good. “you’re such a dirty fucking girl letting me fuck you against the wall like this”. His hips are starting to piston in and out of you at a blinding pace. He can’t help but let out a growl at how good your pussy feels around his cock. “Fuck, been waiting to have you like this for ages baby. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted”. You’re moaning so loud at this point you’re quite sure all of his neighbors can surmise what you’re up to. “You gonna be mine now that I’ve gotten to fuck your tight little pussy noona”? You can’t answer as your second orgasm of the night hits you like a truck and knocks all of the air out of you. You let out a scream so loud it could easily be mistaken as you being murdered. You aren’t sure when he finishes or even when he’s pulled out of you and gotten you into his room. But when you do come to he’s already gotten you cleaned up and changed into something more comfortable.

To your surprise there isn’t any awkwardness between you two. Jungwon is quick to reassure you of his feelings for you “god you look so beautiful right now. I hope you know you’re mine now baby”. You pull him into a deep kiss before adding “good, because I don’t plan on sharing you with anyone else”. He laughed at that before pulling you into his arms and settling down into bed with you.

You two have the what are we conversation the next morning after your haze of lust has lifted. It’s then that Jungwon admits how he truly feels about you and that he’s in love with you. After establishing your relationship he fucks you long and hard in his bed. By the time you two have finished he’s lived up to his promise of you not being able to walk the next morning.

[is-this-fascism]

i found this on a joke post about first aid, but it's hard to tell how serious this person is being so i feel the need to clarify and maybe help some people learn some basic first aid. this is going to be for small, superficial cuts to the skin.

healthcare isn't free, but gauze and superglue are cheap

in today's political climate, who knows when you're going to have to rely on yourself. plus, as an American, i'm only $3000 in medical debt, all from avoiding hospitals after learning to treat myself, so you can trust me. (i am not a trained medical professional and am speaking from personal experience and research)

i'm going to start by saying you should approach personal first aid with an understanding that at any moment, you might have to accept that you can't treat this on your own and you will need to go to a hospital. just make sure it's always an open possibility in your mind. it's not a quitter's attitude, but actually an incredibly smart attitude. it's much more dangerous to push yourself past your limits over spite or stubborness or fear of debt or judgement. i'm especially talking to those of you who might have some kind of shame about self-inflicted injury.

it can be very healing and nice to tend to your own wounds, but ALWAYS be prepared to need help, and be prepared to make the decision quickly by knowing exactly what consititutes a medical emergency that is out of your scope. i talk about a couple of those scenarios in this post.

cleaning and medicating:

so first of all, for the love of GOD do NOT LICK YOUR WOUNDS. there's some factoid out there about spit having 'healing compounds' but you know what else spit has? LOTS OF BACTERIA. people get nasty tooth infections for a reason.

you don't need soap either. nor do you need iodine or hydrogen peroxide. if your wound is dirty enough that it needs soap, you should just go to the ER. soap will not stop a deep, rusty wound from giving you lockjaw.

you SHOULD rinse your wound with clean, lukewarm water. no pressure-washing, okay? just a gentle rinse. you can use soap to clean the area surrounding the wound, but don't put soap IN your wound. after rinsing, dab (don't rub) the wound dry.

a topical anti-bacterial (not anti-septic) cream or gel will do the heavy lifting in preventing infection. use a q-tip or clean fingertip to apply enough to completely cover the wound in a thin layer, then wrap it up.

wrapping:

band-aids are kind of a scam, yeah. they're okay on fingers. gauze is NOT a scam, though. the worst thing gauze can do is keep your wound too moist, but that's why it's reccomended to change the wrapping regularly. i prefer wrap gauze over pad gauze and bandaids. it's a bit excessive and makes me look like i just came out of the operating room over a papercut, but it's secure. if the gauze keeps falling off, replace it and wrap it better next time. sorry, that's just a skill issue. our limbs are mostly round and easy to wrap. anywhere you get gauze, you can also get gauze tape, which does what you think it does.

gauze holds the wound closed, keeps any medicine you applied in contact with the wound, and keeps dust and debris from the outside world away from the wound. use 2-3 layers of gauze directly applied to a clean wound and wrapped around the limb. just change it at least once a day. while you're changing the gauze, rinse the wound again and re-apply any topical anti-bacterial medicine. depending on the severity of the wound, you should only have to do this for a 3-5ish days. if there are signs of infection, it's a good idea to keep applying the medication every day even after you stop wrapping.

stopping bleeding:

the other main thing gauze does is stop bleeding. if the wound is deep or in a highly vascularized area, and the bleeding won't stop on its own, applying pressure with clean gauze will help. if it doesn't stop bleeding after a full five minutes of pressure, you're going to need to close the wound.

IF THIS IS SEVERE, I.E. IT IS GUSHING, THERE'S A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF BLOOD COMING OUT, IT'S SOAKING THROUGH MULTIPLE LAYERS OF GAUZE, YOU'RE GETTING WOOZY AND LIGHTHEADED, ETC. GET EMERGENCY HELP IMMEDIATELY.

deep tissue damage:

if it's just trickling some blood but it won't stop, it's likely not dangerous, only annoying. depending on the location, it's a good idea to assess if there could be any deep tissue damage, like a tendon, muscle, bone, nerves, or large vein. typically you'll be able to tell pretty quickly due to pain and loss of function. if you cut a tendon, for example, you'll lose mobility down the anatomical line. if you cut a nerve, there will be an electric burning sensation or numbness and loss of mobility. most of these structures move out of the way of a piercing cut, but a slicing cut can easily sever things. research what the signs of various types of deep tissue damage are so you can be prepared to report it to a medical team, because you're going to need to go the ER for that one too.

closing a wound:

if there's no deep tissue damage and you feel you can close this wound on your own, the first thing to try is binding. clean the wound, apply medicine if needed (might be difficult with trickling blood but just do your best), and just wrap the thing up with gauze. wrap it tight, not so tight that you lose circulation, but enough to stabilize the edges of the wound so they don't slip or seperate. this won't work if the wound is in a highly mobile area like near a joint, or in an area with tight skin that pulls away from itself, like over the shin bone.

the second option is superglue. this works best with short cuts, no longer than half an inch. it's a good idea to have medical grade superglue in your first aid kit, because it's formulated to be totally safe, but regular hardware superglue is essentially the same thing and will perform the same function, and a drop of it to close up a skin wound isn't going to hurt you. just don't drip it into your eyes, mouth, other holes and orifices, or directly into any open wounds. yes, i knew this for years before the veritasium video about it.

to use superglue to close a wound, first clean the wound and apply whatever medicine. if you can, a light tourniquet to slow down the bleeding might make it easier. i've used hairties on my fingers and shoelaces on my forearm. just don't make it tight. you just want to slow the bleeding enough to keep the wound clear for a couple seconds. the thing is, superglue will cure FASTER when it's in contact with blood (or water), and youre going to want a bit of working time.

position your joints so the skin around the wound is loose. apply a drop of superglue to the outside edge of one side of the wound. NOT inside the wound but as close to the edge as you can get it. it's honestly fine if a little bit gets into the wound. place a finger and thumb on either side of the wound, not touching the glue, and then just pinch it closed. hold it until it cures. clean the wound again with just water and check if the bleeding is contained. if you did it right, there shouldn't be any blood seeping out around the edges of the glue. if there is, it should stop pretty quickly. if it doesn't, apply another drop without pinching and let it cure on top of the wound.

third option for closing your wound is to learn how to suture. if you can sew, you have a leg up here. you don't need a medical degree to suture your own wounds, although if you do a bad job and go to the ER to get it redone, they might laugh or scold you. so this isn't difficult, nessecarily, but it's pretty advanced and it will take prior research and practice before anyone should be confident poking threads through their skin. i've never done this, i just stick to glue and gauze and those have worked fantastically for even really bad and bleedy cuts i've had.

go forth and deny, defend, depose. while you're at it, learn to grow veggies too

[haunted-carousel-productions]

Lessons for first-time Audiodrama creators I learned making Lavender Evening Fog

Today marks the four year anniversary of the first full episode of @lavender-evening-fog-podcast. If you want to make audiodrama, here are some lessons that I learned along the way, that will make it easier for you. We went into it loving the audiodrama artform but not knowing a lot about it, so please learn from the experience we gained making the show over four seasons.

Cut the volume you plan to put out in half. And then maybe cut that in half. There are a few ways you can do this-- for example if you are planning on every other week, put out monthly episodes instead. Or maybe rather than doing a 12-episode season, you do a 6-episode season. Or maybe rather than doing 12 half hour episodes, do 12 fifteen minute episodes. One of these ways of reducing may make more sense for your story than the others, but the takeaway is the same--producing an audio drama is a lot of work, and if you have never done it before, it is likely more work than you expect. You can still tell your story, it might just take more time. "But Victoria," you say, "I am already being very pragmatic about this!" I believe you dear reader. When we started LEF we intentionally made the episodes monthly because we knew more frequently would be difficult. Yet the plan was to have two 12-episode seasons that would involve dropping an episode every month for two years without break. About six episodes in we realized that we would burn out if we did it that way. Fortunately, because of how we mapped the story, it was very easy to convert that to four six-episode seasons. This allowed us to take breaks while still having consistency in our release cadence, because that consistency is incredibly important, and it is easiest to sustain over time if you have a handle on the work.

Have as much as possible done before you develop a release schedule. This may be the exception to #1--if you have everything done, by all means, go forward with whatever schedule you like. But it is easier to have a season done and drop episodes than to be working on it up to your release day.

If you can't have everything done before you start thinking about a release schedule, at least have the writing done and polished. Sometimes, you will need to revise pretty heavily. Especially at the beginning when you are getting the voice right. Because writing and getting feedback can take awhile, you want to give time to think about it, try to have your scripts done if nothing else.

If you find yourself relying on some part of your story too heavily, try writing a scenario without it. At the end of Season 1, we introduced the idea of Nick voicing Billy, and by the Season 2 premiere, we felt comfortable recording more interactions (remember, this project started during peak Covid). I was so excited to write for more than just myself, so I wrote a bunch of Billy scenes that didn't move anything forward. Once it was pointed out that this was a problem, I decided to send Billy to a conference. That gave me an opportunity to reframe rather than relying on a narrative crutch. This resulted in the Anna-Georgina is sick episode, which I still think is one of my favorites.

Create frameworks that make writing easier. For example, we wrote the show in little fragments of Anna-Georgina's audiodairies. That made it so much easier to plan (we know we need 8-12ish segments per ep), to write (again, if I wasn't feeling like tacking a particular big of the plot, I could work on another), and to record (The Lucy letters and the long pieces of exposition were always recorded last)

Figure out your tech before you record your first episode. We didn't fully and I'm still kind of embarrassed. Like I'm proud of what we produced starting out, but I wish we (mostly me, Nick always knew what he was doing) had figured it out earlier.

[greenleaf4stuff]

As a fellow “Celebrimbor is secretly buff/has a sleeper build” truther I’m Screaming at that one pic you reblogged lmfaoo. Poor Adar won’t know what hit him. Adar can pick up whole elves one handed he’s probably used to being the strongest person in the room meanwhile Brimbs got enough muscle to give Adar princess treatment and is just too polite to use it. Or waiting for the right day to surprise Adar with it lmao

Yaaay and hello, fellow "Celebrimbor is buff, actually" truther, thank you so much for your ask, I fully agree! :D <3 (It's this pic, isn't it?)

I actually love that idea so much and it's been stuck in my head as well; I have a WIP that makes use of such a scenario because it has *so* much potential, but I am sadly nowhere near posting it. I really like the idea of a surprised/flustered but ultimately very intrigued Adar reacting to Celebrimbor's muscles.

But you know what, it's not like I have multiple WIPs to finish and several things to edit, have a little snippet of how that concept could go that I just cooked up. I love the concept too much not to use it. Enjoy!

Hidden Assets

Celebrimbor made to side-step the uruk in front of him, only for Adar to take a step as well, landing him right in front of the smith again.

The elf paused. "Would you kindly step aside so I can continue to work?"

Adar only narrowed his eyes in response and remained as he was. "No. You haven't taken a break all day and are clearly exhausted. If you want me to move, you will have to move me yourself."

The smith heaved a sigh. The other's concern was certainly touching, but he did wish to get that last piece done before he retired for the day.

Also, well. Adar clearly thought this was a challenge that Celebrimbor would - could - not take up. The chance to surprise the other a little was just too good to pass up on.

A smirk spread over the smith's lips. Judging by the uruk's resulting expression, he had not expected that kind of response. Before the uruk could even open his mouth again, the smith had stepped up to him, reached down-

and grabbed Adar by the back of his legs. Only to then hoist him up in one smooth motion. The uruk was too stunned to even make an attempt at stopping the elf.

Which was how Celebrimbor ended up standing in the middle of his forge, grinning rather smugly, with a very bewildered looking Adar in his arms, legs dangling alongside the smith's hips.

The uruk's eyes had widened comically as the elf picked the other up, and he'd had to extend his hands and wrap them over Celebrimbor's upper arms to make sure he didn't lose his balance.

There was a moment of perfect stillness, and then the elf began to walk over to a table he wasn't currently using, onto which he deposited the uruk in his hold - albeit gently.

Perhaps he should have known the other would use the positon to cross his ankles behind Celebrimbor's knees and keep his hold on the smith's arms. The uruk had no inhibitions about fighting dirty after all.

"Don't tell me you have been hiding all that strength from me until now?" The other sounded almost incredulous.

Celebrimbor batted his eyelashes in a show of innocence. "Well. Just because I do not carry a big sword and scary armor doesn't mean I am only a politician. First and foremost, I have always been a smith, who tends to engage in rather physical work. As you know."

He leant forward, and now his grin turned almost sly. "I might not have your rather powerful physique, but I can still handle myself just fine."

"Indeed," the uruk breathed, and squeezed Celebrimbor's muscles as he looked at the other appreciatively.

[gothicxreylover]

Good day! I have another scenario in mind that I'd like to request: the Hashira (+ the Uzui wives), Kanao & Aoi with a foreign y/n. I actually have a couple of foreign reader scenarios so this is probably the 1st one 😄

Okay, so foreign y/n is doing their best to learn Japanese diligently the way we do irl. Since Kanji characters are a big challenge, y/n has to practice writing them numerous times. However, being a fast learner, they quickly proceed to tackle more complex Kanji. And the good way to do start is to write people's names.

In y/n's notebook, there are full names of their friends written repeatedly. Prior to that, y/n went around asking their friends how their names were written in both Kanji and Hiragana, and asked them to show how to correctly write the Kanji characters. So I lowkey think that y/n's s/o might get jealous of seeing other people's names aside from THEIRS written with sm care and precision.

P.S: I feel quite bad for keeping sending you these requests the past few days as I'm concerned that you might have a lot on your plate atm. I'd hate for you to feel the pressure of having to rush to finish our requests asap. But your writing is great and I keep wanting to read more (or I'm just overthinking 🥲)

As always, take your time and have a great day!

The Hashira (+ Uzui’s Wives, Kanao & Aoi) React to Their Foreign S/O Practicing Kanji with Everyone’s Names

I HOPE YOU ENJOY SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT❤️

You had been studying Kanji tirelessly, dedicating yourself to learning the complex characters that made up the names of your friends and loved ones. Your notebook was filled with page after page of carefully written characters, each stroke placed with precision as you committed them to memory. Since names were an important part of learning, you had gone around asking everyone how theirs was written in both Kanji and Hiragana, then had them demonstrate the correct stroke order.

Of course, you thought nothing of it—until your significant other happened to see your notebook… and noticed whose names you had written most frequently.

Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu had never been the type to hover or pry, so when he happened to pass by as you were practicing, he simply glanced at your notebook.

“You’ve been working hard,” he murmured, his voice as quiet and steady as always.

You smiled up at him. “I think I’m finally getting the hang of stroke order. Kanji is still difficult, though.”

He nodded, watching as your hand moved smoothly across the page. His gaze softened at the way you carefully traced each character, your dedication evident in every mark of ink. However, as his eyes drifted down the page, his expression changed ever so slightly.

Kocho Shinobu.

The name was written over and over, each iteration just as meticulous as the last. He noticed other names, too—Mitsuri Kanroji, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Tengen Uzui—but what stuck out to him the most was the sheer number of times you had written Shinobu’s name compared to the others.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ve written Kocho’s name… quite a lot.”

You glanced at the page, blinking. “Oh, yeah. She was helping me with stroke order, so I practiced with hers first.”

Giyuu was quiet for a moment. He knew there was no real reason to be bothered, but for some reason, the idea that you had spent so much time carefully writing someone else’s name made something stir uncomfortably in his chest.

He wasn’t going to say it outright, but you could tell. The way his gaze lingered, the way his fingers twitched slightly at his side—it was subtle, but you’d learned to read him well.

You smiled, setting down your brush. “You know, I was just about to dedicate a whole page to you.”

Giyuu blinked, his blue eyes widening slightly. “You were?”

“Mhm. Want to help me write it?”

He hesitated for only a moment before sitting beside you. His fingers lightly rested on yours as he guided you through each stroke of Tomioka Giyuu. Though his expression remained neutral, you could see the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

Later, when you weren’t looking, he carefully tore out one of the pages with his name and tucked it into his uniform.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro was absolutely thrilled to see how dedicated you were to learning. The moment he saw you practicing, he beamed with pride.

“Splendid! You are making great progress!” he declared, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he leaned over your shoulder to inspect your work.

You grinned at his energy, always appreciating the way he encouraged you. “It’s still a little hard, but I think I’m improving.”

“I have no doubt! Your diligence is inspiring!”

However, as his eyes drifted across the page, his usual radiant expression faltered just a little. He wasn’t one to get jealous easily, but when he noticed that Sanemi’s name was written significantly more than his, something inside him stiffened.

“Oh?” His voice remained steady, but the slight pause before he spoke was uncharacteristic. “You have written Shinazugawa’s name many times, I see.”

You glanced at your notebook, completely oblivious to his change in demeanor. “Oh! Yeah, he helped me with some radicals, so I practiced using his name.”

“I see, I see…” Kyojuro nodded, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his golden eyes. He wasn’t necessarily upset—he knew it was just practice—but still…

He suddenly clapped a hand on your shoulder. “In that case, I believe you should practice with a true challenge! My name, written in the boldest, most flame-like strokes imaginable!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics, but the way his eyes gleamed told you he was completely serious.

And so, you dedicated an entire page to Rengoku Kyojuro, each character written with the fiery energy he deserved.

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu had been the one to teach you stroke order in the first place, so she was already aware of your diligent practice. However, what she hadn’t expected was to see Mitsuri’s name written so many times in your notebook.

She had just been passing by when she caught sight of the page filled with careful repetitions of Kanroji Mitsuri. Her ever-present smile didn’t waver, but something in her golden eyes sharpened.

“My, my,” she murmured, her voice light as ever. “It seems you’ve taken quite an interest in Kanroji’s name.”

You looked up at her, blinking in surprise. “Oh, well, Mitsuri’s name was really fun to write. The strokes flow really well.”

Shinobu tilted her head, the same sweet smile still gracing her lips. “Is that so?”

There was something in her tone that made you pause. It wasn’t quite jealousy—no, Shinobu was too composed for that. But there was a teasing edge, a subtle warning hidden beneath her usual playful demeanor.

You set your brush down, smiling at her. “Would you like me to practice yours next?”

Her smile widened, and she hummed in approval. “Oh, only if you want to, of course.”

(You had a strong feeling that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.)

And so, you spent the next hour writing Kocho Shinobu over and over, while she sat beside you, very pleased with herself.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi wasn’t one to pay attention to things like handwriting or study materials, so when he passed by your workspace and saw you scribbling in your notebook, he barely gave it a glance.

At first.

But then something caught his eye, making him pause. His sharp gaze honed in on the page filled with carefully written names—some in delicate, practiced strokes, others a little rougher as you worked to perfect them.

And there, right in the middle of the page, was Himejima Gyomei’s name.

Not just once. Not twice. But over and over again.

Sanemi’s brow twitched. “Oi.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, still focused on your writing.

“The hell is this?” He snatched the notebook off the table before you could react, flipping through the pages with a deepening scowl. “Why is Himejima’s name all over this thing?”

You blinked at him. “Oh! He was helping me with proper stroke balance, so I practiced with his name for a while.”

Sanemi’s frown deepened. His grip on your notebook tightened slightly. “You practiced with his name?” His voice had that low, dangerous edge to it. “What, my name too damn hard for you?”

You let out a laugh, reaching for the notebook, but he yanked it just out of reach. “No, actually, yours is really complicated. I was saving it for later.”

“Tch.” Sanemi still looked irritated, but there was the faintest hint of red on his ears. His thumb ran over the edge of the paper as he stared at your careful penmanship, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

After a moment, he dropped the notebook back onto the table and crossed his arms. “Write mine.”

You tilted your head, smirking. “Oh? You want me to—”

“Just do it.” He muttered, gaze averted.

With a chuckle, you dipped your brush into the ink and started writing Shinazugawa Sanemi over and over again. The entire time, he stood behind you, watching intently—arms still crossed, lips pressed in a firm line, but his posture just a little less tense.

And later, when he thought you weren’t looking, he ripped out the page and tucked it into his uniform.

Obanai Iguro

Obanai wasn’t the type to get openly jealous, but he was exceptionally observant. And right now, as he stood silently behind you, watching you scribble Kanji with intense concentration, his mismatched eyes caught something that made his muscles stiffen.

You had written Rengoku Kyojuro’s name.

Over and over.

The deliberate care in each stroke, the repeated precision, the sheer amount—it all gnawed at something deep inside him.

He stayed quiet for a long moment, staring at the page. Then, finally, his voice came out cool and controlled.

“You’ve written Rengoku’s name quite a lot.”

You nearly jumped, not realizing he was standing so close. “Oh! Obanai, you scared me.”

He didn’t respond to that. His gaze remained fixed on the notebook.

You followed his line of sight before giving him a sheepish smile. “Ah… yeah. Kyojuro has a fun name to write. He also taught me a good technique for balanced strokes.”

Obanai’s jaw clenched ever so slightly, though his voice remained neutral. “I see.”

You could feel the shift in his demeanor—the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way Kaburamaru coiled a little tighter around his neck.

You sighed, setting your brush down. “Would you like me to practice yours now?”

A pause. Then, a quiet, “Yes.”

You hid your grin as you flipped to a fresh page. “Alright then.”

As you carefully wrote Iguro Obanai over and over, he watched closely, his gaze never leaving your hands. When you were done, he reached out and gently took the page between his fingers, examining it in silence.

Satisfied, he gave a small nod. “Keep this one.”

You chuckled. “Why?”

His gaze flickered to you. “Because your strokes are finally precise enough.”

(But really, you knew he just wanted to keep it for himself.)

Tengen Uzui & His Wives

Tengen prided himself on being flashy, confident, and above all, the most important person in your life. So when he casually glanced at your notebook and saw Tokito Muichiro’s name written more times than his, he audibly gasped.

“You’ve written Muichiro’s name more than mine?!” He clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back as if you had just personally wounded him. “How unbelievably unflashy!”

Before you could even respond, Makio stomped over and snatched the notebook from the table. “Hold on—why isn’t my name here at all?!”

Suma, already in tears, wailed, “Do you love Aoi more than me?!”

Hinatsuru, ever the voice of reason, simply chuckled and patted your shoulder. “You should probably write ours next, dear.”

You sighed in exasperation. “Guys, I haven’t even gotten to your names yet—”

“No excuses!” Tengen interrupted, flipping the notebook open to a blank page. He grabbed a brush and practically shoved it into your hand. “Right now. Write Uzui Tengen in the largest, flashiest script possible.”

Makio huffed. “Mine too. And make it just as big as his.”

Suma sniffled. “And—and mine with little hearts next to it—”

Hinatsuru smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind a few elegant flourishes on mine.”

You groaned in defeat, but secretly, you were amused by how deeply invested they all were. And so, for the next hour, you meticulously wrote each of their names in the most extravagant calligraphy you could manage.

By the end of it, your hand was cramping, your ink supply was nearly depleted, and Tengen was holding up the notebook like a prized work of art.

“Now this is proper dedication!” he declared proudly.

Makio nodded in satisfaction. “Much better.”

Suma threw herself into your arms, sobbing dramatically. “I forgive youuuu!”

Hinatsuru just chuckled, kissing your cheek. “We really do appreciate it, sweetheart.”

You let out a tired laugh. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Tengen grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “And yet, you love us anyway.”

And honestly? He wasn’t wrong.

Mitsuri Kanr oji

Mitsuri was delighted when she first saw you practicing Kanji. She thought it was so cute how dedicated you were, and she showered you with praise the moment she saw your notebook.

“Wow! You’re amazing, Y/N-chan! You’ve written so much!” she gushed, leaning over your shoulder with sparkling eyes.

You beamed at her enthusiasm. “I still have a long way to go, but I think I’m improving!”

She giggled. “Oh, I’m sure you are! Let’s see what you’ve been practicing—”

And then, she saw it.

Right there, in the middle of the page, over and over again, was Iguro Obanai.

Her expression didn’t immediately change, but you noticed the way her cheerful energy faltered just slightly.

“You’ve been practicing Iguro-san’s name a lot,” she murmured, her voice still sweet, but with the slightest hint of something… off.

You blinked, glancing at the page. “Oh! Yeah, he helped me with stroke order, so I used his name for a while.”

Mitsuri’s lips pursed, her usual pout appearing. “I see…”

You turned to look at her fully and immediately recognized the signs. The tiny pout. The slightly puffed cheeks. The way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.

Mitsuri Kanroji was pouting.

You chuckled, setting your brush down. “Mitsuri, are you jealous?”

Her eyes widened. “Wha—no! Of course not! I mean—” She fidgeted even more, her cheeks turning pink. “I just thought maybe you would’ve practiced with my name first, that’s all…”

Your heart melted at how adorable she was. You reached out, taking her hand. “Do you want me to write yours now?”

She perked up immediately. “Really?! You’d do that?!”

“Of course.” You flipped to a new page and carefully wrote Kanroji Mitsuri in the neatest script possible. Mitsuri watched with a lovestruck expression, swaying happily beside you.

And later, when she thought you weren’t looking, she carefully tore out the page and tucked it into her sleeve, pressing it to her chest with a dreamy sigh.

Muichiro Tokito

Muichiro was passing by when he caught sight of your notebook, his curiosity piqued when he saw all the careful Kanji written on the page.

“You’re practicing?” he asked, peering over your shoulder.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been working on stroke order.”

Muichiro hummed, scanning the page absentmindedly. His mind tended to drift, but when his eyes landed on a particular name, something inside him snapped into focus.

Kyojuro Rengoku.

It was written multiple times, each character precise and elegant.

Muichiro stared at it, his usual sleepy expression unreadable. “You wrote Rengoku’s name a lot.”

You barely glanced up. “Oh, yeah. He helped me with balance techniques, so I practiced with his name for a while.”

Muichiro said nothing, but his presence suddenly felt much heavier. His usual cloud-like demeanor darkened slightly, and his teal eyes sharpened in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, he plucked the brush from your hand.

“…Write mine,” he said flatly.

You blinked at him. “Huh?”

“My name,” he repeated, his voice eerily calm. “Write it now.”

You gulped. Why did this suddenly feel like an order?

Without questioning further, you quickly flipped to a new page and began writing Tokito Muichiro as neatly as possible.

Muichiro’s intense stare never wavered. He watched each stroke carefully, nodding in silent approval as you filled the page. Once you were finished, he picked up the notebook, flipped back to the page with Rengoku’s name, and—

Tore it out.

You gawked at him. “Muichiro—”

“It’s fine,” he said, slipping the paper into his sleeve as if nothing had happened. “You don’t need this anymore.”

And with that, he wandered off, looking completely unbothered.

Meanwhile, you sat there, gaping at the missing page.

Did… did Muichiro just erase Kyojuro from your practice records???

Kanao Tsuyuri

Kanao had been quietly observing your progress, always fascinated by how determined you were to learn. She admired your dedication, though she never voiced it aloud.

One day, as she passed by, she saw you practicing again and leaned in curiously.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice her at first. But when she suddenly spoke, you nearly jumped.

“You’ve written Aoi’s name a lot,” she murmured.

You looked at the page. Indeed, Aoi’s name was scribbled multiple times.

“Oh, yeah! She helped me a lot, so I used her name for practice,” you explained.

Kanao stared at the page, then at you. There was no immediate shift in her expression, but something about the way she clutched her coin told you she was thinking.

After a few moments, she held out her hand. “Write mine.”

You smiled, flipping to a fresh page. “Of course.”

As you wrote Tsuyuri Kanao over and over, she watched with the slightest glimmer of satisfaction in her violet eyes. And once you were done, she took the page for herself, slipping it into her sleeve without a word.

Aoi Kanzaki

Aoi sighed when she saw your notebook, hands on her hips. “You’re still practicing? Don’t overwork yourself.”

You chuckled. “I’m okay. I want to get better.”

She peered over your shoulder—and then, her eye twitched.

Because right there, in painstakingly neat handwriting, was Shinobu Kocho.

Multiple times.

Aoi immediately narrowed her eyes. “Why is Kocho’s name written so much?”

You blinked, confused by her sudden shift. “Huh? Oh, she helped me a lot, so I practiced with her name.”

Aoi huffed, crossing her arms. “I see…”

Her usual sharp tone masked her emotions well, but you knew better. You smirked. “You’re jealous.”

“Wha—I am not!” She turned away, cheeks turning pink. “It’s just… If you’re practicing, you should’ve used mine first!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, flipping to a fresh page. “Alright, alright. Aoi Kanzaki, coming up.”

As you wrote her name, she muttered something under her breath—but you caught it.

“…Make it better than Kocho’s.”

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei had been quietly observing your progress for a while, always patient and supportive.

One day, he approached you as you practiced and knelt beside you. “You are doing well, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Gyomei-san.”

Then, he felt your notebook, his large hands tracing over the pages. “May I?”

You handed it to him, and he carefully flipped through the pages, his blind eyes scanning the indentations of ink.

After a moment, he sighed deeply. “…You have written many names.”

You tilted your head. “Yes?”

His lips pressed together. “But mine is not here.”

Your eyes widened. Oh no.

He exhaled, his massive shoulders sagging slightly. “Am I… not important to you?”

Panicked, you immediately grabbed your brush and filled an entire page with Himejima Gyomei, each stroke filled with pure dedication.

Gyomei felt the fresh ink and nodded solemnly.

“…I will keep this safe,” he murmured, tucking it inside his robes.

(You were pretty sure he was smiling.)

[dandysworldhcs]

rubs my hands evilly, I’ve been waiting for these asks to be open

I don’t want to yap too much for my first anon ask on this blog, but I like wondering and making scenarios around the idea of how Twisteds interact with each other, primarily the mains. I already imagine how the T. Mains are bigger than the other toons, like a bit more than they are in game, and that led to me thinking: What if over time, some of the mains gained a habit of picking up other twisteds randomly?

Shelly seeing Tisha and being happy to see a familiar face, and she just yoinks her up by her mouth and carries her around. Sprout carrying Cosmo around the floors randomly when he’s feeing particularly lonely, or any other Twisted he might share a floor with if Cosmo isn’t there. Maybe Pebble likes to take the nearest Twisted and carried them around in his mouth like a chew toy, albeit a bit more roughly.

Is this a silly idea? Absolutely, but it makes me laugh so I like indulging in this headcanon.

📺 anon if that isn’t taken ! I’m a new anon to this blog and was nervous to go off anon. maybe in other headcanons I may share but for now, I might as well claim an emoji for myself

Ooooooohhhh my goodness I LOVE THIS ANON !!!!!!! Ough Pebble chew toy and Sprout carrying Cosmo GOODNESS !! These are great. Gives you a gold star!!

Also, welcome to the blog, friend !!! I can't wait to see what else you have in store for us : D

[sturnlsstuff]

Heyyy, loving the new theme and I can’t wait to see what you’re cooking with the new au.

In the meantime, could I maybe request ghostface!matt going absolutely insane because the reader suddenly goes missing (in reality she just went to a cousins wedding or something and failed to tell him just to test him, a little bit toxic I know). Please feel free to make it as smutty, angsty or soft as you like.

Still making my tumblr addiction worse but I still love you for it, keep cooking:)

ghostface!matt would definitely somehow find out about an event like a wedding!! even without the reader knowing, cuz he honestly knows everything 😭 so i changed it a bit!! & sorry it took me so long and is short afff

there was no surprise to matt when he woke up around two in the afternoon. whenever he was out all night, taking care of his business— which is probably already being talked about by everyone in town, TV and the internet stuffed with informations after how many victims matt has left this time, he would always sleep long, needing some rest. being a ghostface can be tiring, after all.

that's when he first texted you.

only after taking a shower, eating lunch and getting ready for the day, he realized that he didn't get any response from you. he wanted to see you today, so he sent you another message. still nothing. not even a quick check-in.

you never do that.

his stomach twisted with unease, but he didn’t let himself panic. not yet. he typed out another simple text: "what u up to sweetheart?"

then, he waited.

minutes passed. then minutes stretched into hours that felt like an eternity. his fingers drummed on the edge of his desk as his eyes flickered over to the camera feed on his second monitor.

your room— still empty.

matt’s throat tightened. wherever you were— maybe library or your favorite cafè, or even shopping, you were supposed to be home by now. he was sure you didn't have anything important to do that day, he would know about this.

he stood up, pacing the small space of his apartment, checking the clock again. he keeps sending you texts, more urgent with each time: “just answer me i wanna know where you at".

no reply.

he ran a hand through his hair, then pulled his jacket on. he decided to go to your place, maybe you just fall asleep on the couch in your living room? sounds a lot like you.

though, once he got there, you didn't open the door and no sound could be heard from inside your apartment. which almost send him into a spiral, he tried to convince himself that he had control of the situation as always, but the pit in his stomach was growing.

panic started to claw at the edges of his mind as matt drives home, with one hand checking your social media again, but there was nothing new. now he was sure he's not dramatic. where the fuck where you?

it wasn’t like you to go quiet for this long. the silence gnawed at him sending waves of unease, crashing over him as for the rest of the day matt keeps staring at his phone, eyes burning with frustration. his thumb hovered over the screen, but nothing came through. the messages he sent you, the ones begging for a response, just sat there— unread and unanswered. he tried to convince himself you're just busy, but the thought barely stuck as he knows your routines and habits, and most importantly, you never ignore him.

he paced back and forth, the apartment suddenly too small, the walls closing in. his heartbeat thrummed in his ears, the more he waited, the more his thoughts splintered. what if something happened to her? what if she’s with someone else?

the idea struck like a bolt of lightning, and he couldn’t shake it. what if you didn’t want him anymore?

no, he thought, trying to calm himself. that's insane, he knows you wouldn’t just leave, you need him as much as he needs you... right?

or maybe you snitched on him and now hide somewhere?

"fucking idiot," he curses at himself as his thoughts were becoming a frenzy, a vicious loop of worst-case scenarios and insecurities. he paced faster now, his shoes scuffing the floor, his mind spiraling further.

he ran his hands over his face, trying to push the panic down, trying to breathe. she's probably just distracted, she’s busy, she’ll come back, it’s fine… the mantra didn’t help. nothing helped. his hands were shaking now, his vision blurred.

around 9 pm, when he made his nails bleed from how hard he was biting on them, his phone buzzed. matt grabbed it so fast, he almost dropped it.

he sees your name on the screen, and a wave of relief washes over him.

[jackalope-patronus]

Wait but ur my new fav writer and I just thought of another one. Y’know in the game when there’s the option to do crucio on seb or yourself? I’d love a fic like that but where seb has a better reaction and just holds us and comforts us and ominis is lowkey third wheeling but also being comforting. Sorry I’m literally in love with Sebastian. Just something where he shushes us and kisses our head or something. I feel like the game (and movies) the cruciatus curse was very underwhelming, compared to how it was described. It’s used to torture and can make the victims go insane, it is so excruciating. It can even make people forget where they are.

Im so sorry. Tell me if im being overbearing. Thank you so much

summary :: You find yourself in an all too familiar situation, with Sebastian’s wand pointed your way and the words “Crucio.” Coming from his mouth.

warning :: torture, crucio, trauma!

note :: you’re not being overbearing at all! I really enjoy interacting with you and your ideas. A few different writers have created their own version of this scenario so I’ve done a little spin to make it just a tad bit more original.

“Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is dangerous.”

You remember Ominis saying that some years ago, although you think you’ve misremembered a word or two from his original warning. The scriptorium was years ago. Sebastian, Ominis and you had long since graduated and settled down.

You and Sebastian had even married.

Although your school days felt distant your body seemed to remember because it was shivering at the sight of Sebastian holding his wand towards you.

“Cast it on me.” You’d said. And at first he said no, absolutely not. He would never cast such a cruel curse on his wife! The anger recollected in Ominis’s eyes spoke the words you already have.

That’s why you told him it was okay, and that it was nothing you hadn’t handled before. Opening a chamber kept by Salazar Slytherin by casting crucio, all three of you had been there! It was almost nostalgic. Almost.

“I can’t. You must cast it on me.” Sebastian’s grip on his wand faltered.

“No, Sebastian. You know I won’t.” You shook your head gently.

“Ominis—”

“Don’t you dare ask me, you know I would never.” Ominis had found a corner of the darkly lit tunnel to retreat to.

“You have to mean it. I’m not sure I’ll be able to— not again. You’re my wife.” Sebastian sputtered.

“Please Sebastian, don’t drag it out. I’d rather not stay trapped in this place much longer.” You tried to smile softly, but you knew it was no use. Your husband knows you, he can see past every fake smile.

He didn't utter a word but instead his face grew graver and he observed you carefully. You know his thoughts, you can practically hear them. Is she too frail for this? She’s handled it before, but what if it’s somehow different this time? Will there be a lasting effect? His eyes darted quickly to your tummy, but you placed a hand over your stomach to sheild yourself from his thoughts. What if she’s pregnant? It’s intrusive at best, you both know you’re not pregnant. You began to feel your stomach churn sickly in anticipation so you hardened your face. Sebastian got the signal and regained a strong grip on his wand.

You remembered seeing his knuckles blanch, before he cast the curse.

“Crucio!”

It’s familiar, a pain you recall from nightmares. One your brain liked to remind you of on sleepless nights whilst Sebastian laid beside you. You don’t blame him for it, you were children. Would you have blamed him for it now? Blame him for relenting and casting this torture on you, his wife? But you couldn’t bear him feeling it, feel the charring of nerves and the agony of retracting muscles. He doesn’t deserve it. Nobody does, but especially not him. You love him too much to think otherwise.

By the time the magic relented, you’ve regressed into a fetal lay on the floor, with twitches of remaining aches and quiet, voiceless cries coming from you.

You’re quickly scooped up into Sebastian’s warmth.

“The book Sebastian… you’ve got to get the book.” Your eyes are foggy, but you can recall only that you need to help Sebastian get a spell book to cure Ann.

However, you weren’t inside the scriptorium hidden in the walls of Hogwarts and you weren’t looking for Slytherin’s spellbook. Sebastian gazed at Ominis with a fraught face. The blonde only clutched his wand and turned his head away miserably.

“For Ann, For Ann,” you murmur.

“It’s alright. We found the book, my darling.” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse with emotion and he brought your head to his lips, uttering another reassurance before kissing your temple. He had hardly noticed the path to your exit had finally opened, he didn’t much care for anything other than your abused body.

Another incoherent mutter came from you, although the tight embrace of Sebastian’s arms matured you to reality, but a woozy reality.

“She's barely lucid. We must get her to a healer.” Ominis’ voice came as a strong command, but it barely moved Sebastian from holding you on the cold, stone floor.

You uttered something again and Ominis couldn’t be sure what it was, but Sebastian knew it was filled with sorry and regret. Whatever lingered in your mind, whether memory or illusion, made you small and weak. The complete opposite of how Sebastian knew you.

Warm lips still at your temple, Sebastian hushed you calmly, although the lump in his throat threatened to ruin him. “Ann is well. You are well.” He whispered. Both lies. His hand began to pat down your hair, removing stray strands from your face.

“Sebastian,” Ominis barked and this time, he listened.

His arms around you tightened and you were lifted further into him and away from the floor that made you shiver. “What should we do?” He pleaded.

You could now see a blurry Ominis lean over you. “Put her to sleep, give her mind a rest from the pain for a moment.”

The last thing you could hear was Sebastian muttering the sleep charm whilst both of your dearest friends looked upon you with misery. Then a peaceful rest finally found you.

[lightlycareless]

Do you think because of Y/N helping him like grow as a person, do you think this groan version of him would take an interest in Megumi after Toji dies? I don’t think he’d be necessarily try to take care of Megumi full time but I could see him being invested in his care. I feel like Naoya wouldn’t have let Megumi go into his teen years not knowing much about his father lol

I HIT SEND TOO QUICKLY Hi, I’m the Naoya and Megumi anon. I also wanted to mention how I think it’d be cute to see how Y/N would interact with Megumi as well. I feel like Megumi would grow closer to Y/N faster than he would go both Naoya and Satoru since I’m sure those two could be annoying to him lol

Hi anon hehehehehehe. Sorry for taking a while to respond 🥹 I couldn't really think much about a scenario between the two interacting, but after a while, I think I finally got it!

This was nice to write, it's like a nothing goes terribly wrong AU. One can certainly dream.

Warnings: nothing major, just naoya being a tiny douchebag before realizing his mistakes :) also, I had to change the timelines because when satoru met megumi you were like 15 and that's the age I envisioned you meeting naoya for the first time lol (me taking creative liberties, as usual); but outside of that, fluff.

Happy reading!!

I’m going to be honest with you, I do not think Naoya would care much about Megumi initially outside of his similarities to Toji, but even then, it doesn’t last that long because he rather have the real deal, if that makes sense. Megumi’s relationship to his favorite person in the whole wide world is actually to his detriment.

However, things don’t turn out for the worse until he finds out why he was welcomed into the Zen’in estate in the first place.

Because he’s essentially his replacement! If not the preferred option… and this revelation has Naoya seething with anger. How dare his family do that to him, after all he’s done for them?!

And believe me when I say Naoya was more than ready to retaliate, find a way to sabotage the poor kid—

Until you stepped in and disapproved of his actions.

But not only that, your engagement too, and possibly even your relationship.

“Can’t you see how critical this is?! I am to lose my title, my place in this family because of this—kid!” Naoya tries to justify his actions, attempts to convince you of his erroneous beliefs and support him. “We’re going to lose everything! Is that the life you want?! To be thrown out into the streets?!”

But you’re not having it, because that’s not why you fell in love with him in the first place.

“I don’t care if we live in poverty, Naoya. However, I do care if I am to face those struggles with a man I’m suddenly surprised to learn he’s not the type of father I want for my future children.”

Your statement certainly shakes the foundations of his behavior for a bit, though he’s kind of back at it again soon after, believing you’d return to your usual self in no time. Like it always goes…

However, it’s not until your prolonged, absolutely painful silence towards him, enough to refuse to sleep in the same bed as him, that he finally snaps out of his delusions.

It’s now clear to him that your words referred to your reconsideration of this engagement, fearing that the way he behaved towards his innocent nephew might actually be a direct reflection of his fatherhood. One of the many things you are non-negotiable about.

He’d have to be naïve to think his relationship, his future children, couldn’t entail a possibility like this. Like his clan hadn’t accepted his engagement to you for the slightest possibility of begetting a son with their inherited technique.

Neither had thought much about it, perhaps too enthralled with the idea of spending the rest of their lives together—but this was a very plausible circumstance. Or at least it was until the obnoxious white-haired heir came along and dragged poor Megumi and his sister into a world he was previously unaware of.

…

And he just had to go ahead and disappoint you, didn’t he? Eagerly considering doing things he would never attempt against his own children… all because he was jealous.

No wonder you didn’t want to relate to him anymore. He was acting the same way his family did! How they taught him to be.

The same behavior that once threatened this relationship to never exist, unless he changed for the good.

Naoya thought he did, but with the prospect of his future marriage now hanging by a string, he’s not so sure anymore.

Still, hope remains. A sliver of opportunity for him to retract his denouncing actions and do what’s right before it’s too late.

For you.

For Megumi.

So, willing to put his (imaginary) differences aside, he approaches young Megumi with intentions of bridging the gap between the two and getting to actually know him; his first and perhaps only relative to care enough to do so, it seems.

Unfortunately, Megumi wasn’t too keen on following his lead. In fact, he didn’t want to entertain anything that might entail the heir, which honestly surprised Naoya since his preconceived notions influenced him to believe otherwise. This kid is essentially going to get his job, wouldn’t he like to know more about it??

Not really. For all he could care for was the wellbeing of his sister, another young child Naoya grew slightly indifferent to after hearing she wasn’t really related to his cousin, a stepchild. He had no quarrel with her, but he wasn’t the best “in-law” either.

Well, at least this made his job easier when it came to getting into Megumi’s good graces, all he had to do was order a better life for her and that was set. However, the kid’s coldness towards him remained, and at the prospect of his options quickly running out, Naoya grows desperate—anxious.

What if he never makes amends for his acts?

Would you… leave him?

“Stupid Satoru, this is all his fault! If he had only come to me first instead of dumping all his problems to us, this would’ve been way different!”

Who would’ve thought, however, that he and Megumi would end up bonding over their shared distaste for the Gojo heir?

“So, he’s always like that?” Megumi quietly asks upon hearing Naoya curse out his frustrations.

“Huh? Who?” Naoya asks, unsure if he’s talking to him.

“Satoru, has he always been this immature?”

Your fiancée blinks.

“Yeah, since he was a kid.” Naoya continues. “An obnoxious, irritating—”

“White-haired creep.” Megumi finishes, he grins.

“I knew I couldn’t be the only one that saw Gojo for what he really is!” Naoya proudly states, as if he hadn’t previously admired the man for as long as he could remember, the epitome of strength but only behind his cousin!

Though his disdain only came much later upon learning of a particular succession that happened between you and him; since then, he’s been persona non grata in his life.

“Makes sense why his friends look at him the way they do.” Megumi continues. “How can he even have friends in the first place??”

“No idea, might pay them for their time or something.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

It marked the beginning of a new friendship, one that Naoya genuinely enjoyed past making amends and getting back to your good graces, enough so for him to actually invite him to train; Megumi refused his initial invitation, citing he really didn’t have much interest about sorcery and such, but eventually agreed after realizing all of the things he could accomplish by becoming strong…

Such as protecting his sister.

Besides, Naoya ought to be a far better adequate training partner than those goons in the kukuru and akashi units, or old geezers like this father and uncle.

“It’d be my privilege to train you.” Naoya continues. “And perhaps, in due time, you’ll be able to beat Gojo yourself.”

Consider him sold.

Though some restraints must still be employed.

“You better not be encouraging to do anything bad, Naoya.” You say after bumping into him just around the corner, once their training session was over and both were dismissed to clean up.

“Y/N!” Naoya gasps, thrilled to see you again; he tried to play it cool but, well, he never could contain himself with the love of his life. “I—… I don’t know what to say, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I hear that you were actually getting along, so… I just came by to check in on the two.”

“We have. He’s quite entertaining, you know?”

“I know. He’s very sweet too.”

“Really?” Naoya raises an eyebrow.

“When no one’s watching, of course. Kind of reminds me of someone…”

…

…

…

“Are you still… disappointed with me?”

You sigh.

“No, not really.” You admit. “But I did get a bit… worried.”

About what he’d do if one of his children had inherited his family’s technique.

“I’d still love them, like I love you.” Naoya reassures, a sentiment you know to be true now. “I could only love all that comes from you.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t wrong.” You smile, taking his hand with yours and pulling him closer.

“Does this mean…?”

“Yeah, we have lots of catching up to.” You tease. “But—I need you to promise me something before that.”

“Anything.”

“That you’d be careful about what you say about Satoru in front of Megumi; I wouldn’t want him to do something by accident in the days he’s here and… well, you know, make things awkward.”

Naoya laughs.

“I mean, we wouldn’t be lying…”

“Naoya.”

“Alright, I promise. No more trash talking.”

“Keep it to the minimum at least… I get how annoying he can be, but… well, we have to be the bigger person in this situation.” you pout, inviting Naoya to lean down and steal a kiss from your lips.

“I’ll deal with it, don’t worry your pretty little head about anything” He kisses you again. “Outside of our wedding, of course. Have you thought about the venue you want?”

You smile.

“Not yet, but I’ve seen some beautiful options we should definitely go look!”

Unfortunately, you wouldn’t have much time to do so, because this promise would be broken not so long after by you (the irony of it all!). A slip of your tongue and their words would inundate Satoru’s mind with nothing less than skepticism.

But far from prompting an expected reaction, it triggered a far worse consequence: a competition with the sole purpose of demonstrating which one of the heirs was better. There were no limits, only points to prove.

…

You suppose there is no better training for patience when you finally have children of your own, than this.

Also, to not leave that major question unanswered: I feel like Megumi would be the one to eventually ask Naoya about his dad; Naoya for sure wanted to tell him all the amazing things Toji seemingly did, but you convinced him not to because...

"He sold him, Naoya. What do you think Megumi feels about that?"

Not sure if it's ooc, but I also believe Naoya's perspective of him might change a bit.... he'll still admire the crap out of him, but there's just things that he doesn't perceive so happily anymore.

Anyways, there's my interpretation of the relationship they could have hehehe it began with Naoya trying to mend things because of you but they ended up being somewhat amicable with one another :) to torment Satoru is their main motivation. (don't get me wrong, Megumi eventually finds Naoya annoying too, but, well, he can benefit out of the two one way or the other hahah)

I hope you enjoyed it 🥹❤️ I strive to write more about Megumi in the future.

Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️

[oharaslove]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓉.𝟤

Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship. Tags/Warnings: pre!Spiderman Miguel x Civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x Civilian!Reader, fem!reader, fluff, smut (Minors don't interact, please) Word count: 8k Note: I recommend listening to "Sugar"-Sleep Token, It is so good (mainly in the 'you know' scene). <<Part1 || masterlist ||

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

After realising how he felt about you, Miguel tried to take a little distance. He was scared. Terrified even. He had never felt this. Never felt the need to, the urge, to make someone his.

 And that was what scared him. He was a total loser, how could someone like you want something with him?. You were perfect in his eyes, and he was far from it. You were probably experienced too, which he wasn’t. Miguel’s insecurities were at all time high. 

Besides, he couldn’t get the comments you had made the first time you met out of his head. You hated or at least disliked Valentine's day. So did he, not long ago. Damn, how things changed. 

Six months ago he dreaded the question: ‘There is someone special in your life?’, but now… 

You appeared in every thought. Your face materialised in the most random moments. If someone were to ask him that question today, his immediate answer would be yes, grinning from ear to ear. He would jump at any opportunity to talk about you.

Not every thought was happy, though. Miguel imagined countless scenarios where he came forward, pouring his heart out to you, and you didn’t feel the same way. Negative assumptions clouded his head day and night, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. He didn’t want to think about them, but there was always a voice on the back of his head tearing him down to pieces. Telling him he didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t enough. He would never be. 

His feelings were growing bigger and bigger, despite his attempts to keep them down. His chest would explode at any minute if he didn’t let them go. The words at the edge of his tongue, begging to come out. Every time he was close to you, so close he could smell your scent, which drove him crazy, he felt like throwing up. The air would be pushed out of his lungs every time you smiled at him. You stared at him with those beautiful eyes, fueling the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. 

That there was a possibility. 

It didn’t help that, due to the advances on both of your researches, you had to stay more time in the lab. Meaning, it was just the two of you, for hours on end. Many would say it was the perfect opportunity, but what if you said no? What if you secretly hated him? What if–

“Miguel?” you asked gently, moving closer to where he was standing. He had been staring off at the wall for at least five minutes, unmoving. He was barely blinking, and his hands were sweaty. “Are you okay?” you continued, moving even closer. 

Miguel instinctively took a step back, creating distance between the two of you. You were intoxicating. He shut his eyes hard, trying to clear his thoughts. While doing so, he missed the hurt look over your face. 

“Yeah, I… I am fine, don’t worry” he whispered. He clutched the edge of the table. Come on Miguel, take a grip on yourself. 

“Are you…, are you sure? You don’t look okay” You fidgeted with the hem of your sweater.

“Yes” he huffed. His breathing became more erratic. Miguel dropped his head, eyes remaining shut, hoping to block you off. 

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t tell you how much you affected him, even though he wished to. All he wanted was to hug you, make you feel how you made him feel. But no. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. 

“Did I…” you began, your voice trembling. “Did I do something wrong?”. You sniffed, making Miguel open his eyes immediately and look at you. 

You were looking down. Tears streaming down your cheeks, despite your efforts to keep them at bay. Your hands, barely visible, pull at the end of your sweater, making yourself smaller. Trying to hide. 

Shit. “No no no” Miguel whispered, hurriedly walking towards you. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hug you, but would that be alright? Or, should he just go for a supportive hand to the shoulder? So, that’s what he did. “You.. you did nothing wrong. Hey, please. Look at me” he mumbled, barely audible. Thankfully, he was closer than he realised. His mouth only inches away from the crown of your head. He was basically towering over you. 

You looked up. Teary eyes locking into his. Trembling lips mumbling incoherent things, a lot of ‘sorrys’ and ‘please’. Miguel’s heart broke. He had done this. Him. No one else. He was so focused on his own feelings, on not getting hurt, that he didn’t realise how his actions were affecting you.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Miguel cooed, drawing figures with his thumb on your shoulder. Hand, that he noted, you hadn’t pushed away nor seemed uncomfortable about.  

You leaned into his touch. Your cheek grazing his hand, never breaking eye contact. Miguel’s eyes traveled from focusing on one eye to the other, to your nose, your mouth, everything. He wanted to memorize your face in case this was the end. While doing so, ever so lightly, his hand drifted upwards, caressing your cheek, without realising. 

You closed your eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling. His hands were sweaty, but he was warm, and he smelled nice. Your breath slowed down, calming yourself. You nuzzled your cheek further. She’s adorable, Miguel thought, lost in how ethereal you were. His body moving on its own.  

Miguel's eyes went wide. A moment of clarity letting him be aware of his actions. He wanted to retreat his hand, stop touching you, but at the feeling of the slight pull movement from his hand, yours instinctively wrapped around his wrist gently, keeping him there. 

You opened your eyes slowly. Small droplets of water hanging from your lashes. Your eyes searched his, a message clear on them. Stay. “Please” you begged. Your words vibrated against his skin. Your cheek squeezed against his hand. Your eyes big, like a puppy begging for treats. 

Miguel left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His shoulders instantly relaxed. The worried lines on his face dissipated, and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. He didn’t want to leave, he would stay how and where you wanted for eternity. All you had to do was ask. 

He had a feeling this was the night, and the conversation wasn’t going to be short. So, better get comfortable. 

 “Come, sit” he said, retreating his hand slowly, trying not to startle you, before slightly bending down to grab the nearest stool behind you. He gently placed his hands against your shoulders guiding you down. 

You sat down, putting your feet on the bar and tugging them closer to your chest. Placing your chin on top of your knees. Miguel sat down in front of you, leaving a decent space between the two. 

Your eyes were still glassy from crying. Miguel felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. That someone being himself. He clenched his fists over his legs, grabbing the material of his trousers. How could he be so stupid?. 

¿Qué mierda me está pasando? Miguel muttered looking down. He was losing his head. (What the hell is happening to me)

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, even though it was barely audible. Did he just say that aloud? His eyes shot to yours. You were curious, he could tell, and also scared. Of him, for him? He couldn’t tell, which made him anxious.

“I am sorry if I ever crossed the line” you continued, seeing that he wasn’t responding. “I-” You dropped your arms and placed your feet on the floor, getting more comfortable in the stool, breaking eye contact while doing so. 

“It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” You rubbed your face, cleaning the tears and pushing back the hair stuck on your cheeks. You looked down, placing your hands together over your legs. “I just thought that,” you shrugged your shoulders. “you liked me”. You looked up slowly, biting your lip. Your face  was a little turned away, looking at him softly, eager, but also scared by the response. 

Miguel’s eyes opened like plates. Like you? Like, like like you? He was stunned. Miguel couldn’t believe his ears. You liked him! This was the greatest moment of his–

“Or maybe it was all in my head, I don’t know” you continued, turning around on the stool, giving your back to him while you hugged yourself. Asshole. How long were you silent for?

“NO!” he shouted. His first instinct was to stand up and get closer to you. “No,” he said more calmly, collecting himself. 

You turned around slowly. Fresh new tears adorning your face. Slowly, but surely, Miguel reached for your cheek. His fingers made contact with your skin, immediately feeling your warmth. As soon as he felt you lean into it, he applied pressure caressing you, wiping the tears away. 

“I’m sorry.” He began. “I… I am a loser” Miguel scanned your face. He couldn’t back out now. 

“You don’t–” you wiped the side of your face with the back of your sleeve, still leaning onto his hand. ”Don’t seem like one to me” You placed your hand on top of his, melting into his touch.

“Maybe, but I am” He sighed, looking at your face. You were so beautiful. He needed to sit down. He could feel his whole body trembling. Miguel was nervous. Even more nervous than when he interviewed for Alchemax. He looked back, spotting the forgotten stool. He wasn’t leaving your touch again, so he reached with his foot and pulled it towards him. 

He sat down, much closer now, your legs brushing against each other. The proximity was exhilarating. He could smell your perfume. Feel your warmth under the palm of his hand. He could see the way your chest went up and down from your breathing. How your lashes gently touched the top of your cheeks every time you blinked. 

Miguel was charmed by you. If you told him you were a witch who had cast a spell on him, he would believe it. No doubt in his mind. 

Focus Miguel, he thought. This was a golden opportunity, and he couldn’t let it slip away. His eyes landed on his hand, gently stroking the skin of your cheek. You were so soft and warm. Miguel could feel your eyes staring at him, but he couldn’t look at them. Not now. He needed time to be bolder, to build the guts to pour his heart out to you. 

“Miguel” you whispered. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I understand.”

Miguel moved his hand, breaking away from your grasp. He moved down the curvature of your face. The back of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their way. He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb centimeters away from your lips. Hovering. Oh, how he wished he had the experience. The bravery. The audacity to just dive in and capture your lips with his. Say everything with his mouth that words couldn’t express. Tangle his tongue with yours instead of it tangling with the thoughts running through his head.

“I am a loser” he repeated, more serious this time. His focus remained on your lips. “I don’t know how to do this.” he confessed, his thumb finally making contact with the pout that had formed in your face. They were soft. They looked so kissable. He traced the shape of your mouth lightly, before using his fingers under your chin to angle your face towards his. 

His eyes finally gazed into yours. Your cheeks were redder now, skin warmer. “I’ve never done this” He whispered, inching closer. “All I know–” he gulped, looking down again, to your lips. “is that you drive me crazy. I like you, I really do”. Your noses were now brushing together. His breath fanning over your cheeks, gently moving your lashes.

His lips hovering over yours, too scared to make the final move. 

“Miguel” you pleaded, looking at him from your hooded eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. He looked up to your eyes again. There was a pause. Neither of you dared move. 

The tension was palpable in the air. Both your breaths united. Words weren’t needed in this moment, only actions. His eyes sent you a silent plea. A question. Permission to do what he wanted the most. You nodded softly, and that is all it took for him to take the leap. 

Miguel’s lips crush into yours softly. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch, and so did he. Your lips were softer than he had felt with his hands. He had done it! He was kissing you. But now, in the act, he didn’t know how far he could go. Miguel’s hand on your cheek froze, he was cupping your face lightly, but his grip faltered. 

You pulled back softly, creating distance. Miguel chased you with his lips, not wanting to let go yet. You giggled, as you moved back, staring at his cute face. It was all red and warm. His lips slightly parted, letting out puffs of air out. 

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, blinking, as in a trance. Miguel was met with your smile, that pretty smile he learnt to cherish and to look forward to. 

“It’s okay” you whispered, taking both of his hands and placing them in your waist. You shifted closer, the stool screeched against the floor. Your legs parted a little, leaving enough space for one of his own to settle there. 

You placed the palms of your hand over his chest. Your eyes trailed from his chest, to his neck, until your gazes met again. “I trust you.” you smiled. You dove back again, this time showing more confidence. 

As soon as your lips brushed against his, Miguel’s heart skipped a beat. Your hands travelled from his chest to his neck, while his were still locked around your waist. Every thought that miraculously was still in Miguel’s head, flew out of the window. All he could register was you.

 All of you. 

The way your lips brushed and pushed against his. How they slightly parted, little amounts of air leaving them, making contact against his skin. The way your hands were now playing with the curls on the back of his neck, twirling them around your fingers. Miguel groaned. The taste of you becoming unbearable. He needed more. 

Hopefully, you understood. Miguel felt your tongue against his lips, before granting you access. As the kiss deepened, the tension on his body dissipated. He could feel your hands playing with his hair, loosening his muscles. 

As every second passed, Miguel grew more confident. 

First, he squeezed your waist, testing. He didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, he needed more. He wanted to feel your skin on his. Pull noises out of you, created by his touch. 

His hands moved up, stopping below your breasts. His thumbs slightly grazed under them. You inhaled sharply, surprised, but glad he was loosening. You too wanted him to explore more, to take you. To make you his. 

While one of his hands stayed there, squeezing and drawing figures over your sweater, the other detached from your body, before making contact with your arm. He squeezed your forearm, before tracing your arm and reaching your neck. 

Miguel grabbed your neck, taking control of the kiss. He angled you just the way he wanted, giving him more access to explore your mouth. You groaned, the vibrations traveling through Miguel’s fingers.  He pressed his thumb against your throat, the kiss becoming more passionate. 

You pulled at his hair, his sweater, everything your hands could grasp to keep him close, to pull him even closer. Miguel was feeling lightheaded, his breathing becoming more ragged, but he didn’t want to stop. He had had a taste of you, and he didn’t know if he was ready to stop. 

Every sound he coaxed out of you made him more confident. He was obsessed, as if he wasn’t already. Every caress, each touch without an exception your hands made on his body drove him nuts. His lungs were beginning to scream at him for air, so were yours, but neither made an attempt to pull back. You were in a fever dream, and you didn’t want it to stop. 

Miguel’s body was on fire. The kiss became sloppy, teeth clicking against one another. The lab wasn’t silent anymore, your breaths were heavy, both of you panting, an occasional moan erupted from you, making Miguel groan as a response every time. 

He knew if he continued, he would do things he would regret. Not entirely because of the action, but because of the timing. You were his first, he didn’t want to fuck up. He needed to go slow. 

Miguel reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours, his hand still around your neck, his thumb caressing your warm, and slightly sweaty skin. Both of your chests going up and down, catching your breaths. He could feel the warm air exiting your mouth hit his face, making him smile. It wasn’t a dream, you were right there, in front of him, touching him, melting under his touch. 

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, squinting, not comfortable with the now really bright light of the lab. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, his eyes had been shut all the time, basking in the feeling. 

He found you staring back at him through your lashes. A grin formed on your face once you two made eye contact. Miguel’s expression mirrored yours, he was ecstatic. His hands moved up your neck, towards your cheek, drawing figures there as well. 

“So..” you began, leaning into his touch. Your voice was a little hoarse. Gosh, you sounded so sexy. You bit your lip, looking down a little, towards Miguel’s lips. “Does this mean you like me too?” 

Miguel laughed, his whole body shaking. You giggled as well, breaking the tension on your body and in the room. Miguel cupped both sides of your face, before bringing you in for a quick peck, and a kiss to your forehead and nose. 

He pulled back, admiring you. Your smiley face squished against his hands. “Yes” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing visible, just melting into you, feeling drawn to you. Nothing else mattered. 

The lab fell silent, you both just staring at each other. It was comforting, the feelings being out in the air. Reciprocated feelings. You liked him, and he liked you. Nothing could go wrong from now on. 

That moment of clarity made an idea pop on Miguel’s head. “So… are you free tomorrow?”

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

Your first date was ethereal. Miguel had decided he didn’t want to go to a restaurant, or be near people in general, knowing that both you and him preferred to be private. Instead, he arranged a nice picnic with a beautiful view. 

You had the time of your lives. Miguel had never felt so care free and light. His heart was content and he felt on cloud nine every time you laughed, you smiled at him, or kissed him. Mostly when you giggled into your kisses, he thought you were adorable, and he didn’t know how he could say goodbye to you everyday. He needed to be with you 24/7, although he knew it was best for you both to have some alone time. Don’t move too fast now Miguel, Jesus.

Three months had passed since you two confessed your feelings in the lab. Three whole months of stealing kisses from each other, dates every week, seeing each other at the lab every day, being so close that Miguel couldn’t remember his life before you. How had he lived so long without you by his side?

Miguel couldn’t believe that at first he worked by himself in the lab. You two were like one, working around each other like it was second nature. Stolen touches here and there. You wrapping your hands around his waist from the back, leaving kisses, melting his heart and still, making him blush, despite all the months of dating. 

Unfortunately, today you had a meeting elsewhere. Meaning, Miguel was alone. He was feeling a little under the weather, he didn’t like being away from you. The routine you both had broken for a day. Thanks to his mind not being present one hundred percent, he had missed how one of his co-workers messed with his machine, causing the accident. 

Miguel had been experimenting with DNA fusions, something you knew about. This particular moment, he was curious if he could split his own (you clearly weren’t there to tell him it was a stupid idea). He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, nor what his coworker had done. All he knew is that, after surviving the experiment, he felt different. Changed. 

Miguel had always been a tall, muscular guy. But, he felt stronger, more powerful. He squinted his eyes, the artificial light in the lab hurting his eyes. Weird. He was fine just some minutes ago. He went to shut the lights. When his fingers made contact with the switch, he broke it, an abnormal strength surging from his body. 

He felt wrong, he wanted to throw up. At that moment, all he could think about was you. Miguel rushed towards his things, throwing everything aside looking for his phone. Once he had it in his hands, the eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the black screen weren’t familiar. They weren’t his usual brown ones, they were red. He dropped the phone in shock, the screen shattering in pieces. 

Miguel was pissed, causing a set of talons to emerge from his fingertips, scaring him off. What am I? What should I do? What would you think? He crumpled to the ground, shaking. What was he supposed to do? You couldn’t see him like this, he couldn’t lose you. He picked up the remains of his phone, before quickly gathering all his belongings and rushing to his flat. He needed time to think, he needed to be away from people. He needed to be away from you. He couldn’t let you witness the monster he had become.

A few days went by, Miguel had had no contact with you. He didn’t go to work, he didn’t answer his phone. Nothing. Clearly, you grew worried. He had never pulled a stunt like this before. Reason why, you were now standing outside his flat door. 

“Miguel?” you called, after knocking the door a few times. No answer. “Miguel please, I know you are in there” you pleaded, worry evident in your voice. 

Miguel was pacing left to right in his living room, in front of the door. He didn’t want you to see him, but he could tell you were worried. He hated making you something else that wasn’t happy. The dilemma was making his head hurt, the light coming through the windows wasn’t helping. During the days he had been hiding, he noticed his senses had been amplified. His eyes were ten times more sensitive to the lights.

You continued banging on the door. Tears were now running down your face.

“Miguel please,” you hiccuped, each breath was harder to take in. “Please, I don’t know what I did wrong. But please, let me in. We can talk about–”

At that moment, Miguel opened the door. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry any longer. You sobbed, launching yourself to him. Your arms landing around his waist, your face burying in his broad chest. 

Miguel’s arms stayed in the air, not wanting to touch you. What if his talons came out and he hurt you? He wouldn’t bear it. Seeing your wet and flushed face from the crying was torture enough. 

You cried a little more into his chest, creating a small patch of water in his shirt. You pulled yourself together, detaching yourself from him, allowing Miguel to close the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobbing. 

You had tear stains all over your cheeks. Miguel made an attempt to caress your face, wiping them away, but he froze in the middle. He pulled his hand back. He inhaled loudly,  shutting his eyes and making fists with his hands, before turning around and going to sit on the couch. 

You stood there, a frown in your face. What had you done for him to be so mad about you?. 

“Mig?” you mumbled, too scared to make sudden moves. 

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face between his face. You approached him slowly, barely making a sound. You watched him quietly, deciding what to do. As there was no reaction, you sat down, leaving some space between you two. You reached towards him, placing a hand over his arms. 

Miguel flinched away, making you retract your arm and look down to the floor. 

“I’m sorry” you began, trying to not break down. You sniffled, you could feel the tears already forming in your eyes. “I don’t know what I did, but I am sorry”. 

Miguel ran his hands through his hair, pulling a little. He didn’t want you to blame yourself. You had done nothing wrong! But he also didn’t know how to tell you what he was. 

“You,” he began, not looking at you. “You did nothing wrong”

“Then why?” You shifted your body, facing towards him. “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we… I thought we were doing great.” The last words were barely audible. 

“We were… we are!” he corrected himself, now facing you, but not quite catching your eye. 

You played with your fingers in your lap, resisting the urge to reach for him. “Then… why?” You looked at him expectantly, searching for his gaze. 

Miguel hesitated. He played with the material of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, his knee going up and down. He needed to tell you. Either way, this relationship was over. If he didn’t tell you, you would break up with him because who would date someone who hides everyday in their flat? And if he told you… Well, you would probably freak out, call him a monster and walk away. Both outcomes pointed to heart break. 

“I– I can’t do this” he placed his head between his hands and started to cry.

Your heart broke. You didn’t understand what was wrong, but you hated to see Miguel so sad, angry and frustrated, all at the same time. 

“Shhh it’s okay” you scooched closer, hesitating to place a comforting hand on his back, but deciding to do so anyway. 

Miguel flinched at the contact at first, but later melted into you. He leaned into you, before collapsing in your lap. He curled himself into you, his big body retracting to feet on the couch and into you. 

You wanted to cry just from the sight. You rubbed his arms lovingly, trying to calm him down. Miguel was shaking, sob after sob cursing through his body. He mumbled incoherent stuff. Strings of ‘I’m sorrys’ and something along the lines of monster. You didn’t know, nor care. All you wanted was for him to calm down, you wanted your baby to be okay. 

After a few minutes, Miguel regained composure. He could breathe normally. Your warmth was soothing. The way you run your hands through his hair, caress his cheeks, tracing his sharp cheekbones. Lifting his shirt up a little so you could run your nails down his back.

For a moment, he forgot why he was so worried. You had done this countless times, you were his safe space. He could trust you. He needed to believe you wouldn’t leave him.

Miguel placed his feet on the floor, lifting himself off you. He wiped the tears with the back of his hands, before making eye contact with you, for the first time in days. He saw all the worry lines in your face, making his heart clench. Miguel could see your sad expression, a pout in your lips. Your gazes locked, and your eyes widened. 

“Miguel! Your eyes” You reached forward, placing your hands at each side of his head, examining further. 

“I know, that’s part of the problem”

“What happened?!”

Miguel explained to you in detail what happened the day you weren’t in the lab. And, after that, he gave you a demonstration of what he had learned. He stood up and showed you his talons, as well as his fangs. Both retractable. 

You sat there, shocked, while Miguel stood in place, watching you carefully, fully expecting you to shout “Freak!” and storm out. 

You gathered your thoughts, and stood up slowly. Miguel took a sharp breath in. He was terrified. 

“Miguel” you began, looking him straight in the eye. You still had that loving stare in your eyes, that is a good sign he thought. 

You walked closer, and when you were at arms reach of him, you slapped his arms, with all your force. 

“OUCH!”

“How dare you!?” you shouted. “Do you know how scared I was?. I thought you were dead. Dead!” You grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, now pacing from left to right in front of Miguel, while he rubbed the spot where you had hit him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you figure this out!” You threw your hands in the air, mumbling some more things, a few curse words and some other things Miguel didn’t know if they were for his ears or for yours. 

“I thought… well, maybe you would call me a monster and leave” He mumbled the last part, feeling ashamed. 

That made you stop in your tracks, snapping your head towards him. 

“Leave?” you whispered in disbelief. “Leave?” You repeated slightly louder. “In what world would I live? Oh you are so fucking oblivious. I would rather die than leave you, you asshole. I love you, and I–”

“You love me?” Miguel cut you off. His eyes opened like plates, an alarm going off in his head. 

You froze in place too, realising what you had just said. 

“I–” you gulped. “I do. I love you”

Miguel smiled. A toothy grin from ear to ear. He rushed towards you, lifting you in the air and spinning you around, not a care in the world if you bumped something. He hugged you tightly, burying his head in your neck. Once he placed you back on the ground, he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. 

“I love you too.” he sighed. “Te amo” He pressed his forehead against yours. 

You smiled, and hit his chest playfully. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this ever again. You hear me?” 

“Si mi vida. Perdón” He kissed the top of your head before enveloping you in his arms. 

“I love you” you mumbled against his chest. You truly did.

Miguel was going crazy. You had been teasing him all day long. Slight touches here, caresses there. Pressing your whole body flushed against his. You were driving him insane, more than he already was. He couldn’t wait to get to his flat and let you have him, because he had to be honest with himself. He didn’t have a clue of what was going to go down. 

Yes, he had done research. But that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, he knows that things like porn aren’t realistic, so he had a rough idea, but not quite. 

The end of the work day couldn’t come fast enough. Once it was over, you guys went to a nice dinner place, had fun, enjoyed some nice food, before deciding to go back to his place.

Miguel’s leg was bouncing up and down in the car. He was nervous, and you could tell. You placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where he needed you the most. 

“It’s okay Mig. We don’t have to–”

“No!” he cut you off, way too eager. “I want to.”

“Okay” you rubbed his thigh affectionately, leaving your hand there for the rest of the ride home. 

As soon as you stepped into his flat, Miguel’s lips were on your own. Sloppy, needy, warm. His hands roamed your body, tearing away the outer layers, dropping them to the floor. You doing the same with his. 

He walked you backwards into his room, never detaching his lips from yours. You bumped a couple things on the way, but neither of you cared. Once you reached the bedroom, you turned you both around, pushing Miguel towards the bed. 

His legs hit the edge of the bed, landing on it on his back. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his lap. You ran your hands over his body, from the hem of his trousers to his neck, while Miguel’s hands landed on your waist. You bent over, your chests touching, your faces centimeters away from each other. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

“Yes” Miguel breathed out, before grabbing the back of your head and slamming your lips together. 

The kiss got heated. Tongues exploring each others mouth, while hands explored bodies. Your whole wait was on top of Miguel, but he didn’t care. You began moving your hips, creating friction. Your center was on top of Miguel’s hard on, the only thing separating your core from him being your panties. 

Your dress had rode up over your thighs, exposing more skin for Miguel to squeeze and touch. He groaned into the kiss, the movement of your hips driving him crazy, but he needed more. His hands planted themselves in your waist, guiding your movement. Once in a while, one would sneak down to grab a handful of your ass, giving it a pinch, resulting in a moan from you. 

Your kisses moved down, kissing along his jaw, down to his neck. You sucked the skin into your mouth. Miguel inhaled shakily.

“Amoor” he grunted. 

 You smiled into his neck, biting and nipping a little more before moving down his chest. You undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the majestic skin underneath. He had some scars thanks to being Spiderman, but he was beautiful. You could see how his muscles moved with every breath he took. 

You kissed down the middle of his chest, over his sternum. Miguel arched his back towards your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You bite down, and nipped, tracing the scars with your tongue. You moved down, parting his legs, before sinking down to your knees, your eyes in level with the tent on his trousers.

You could already tell, he was big. You could see the outline over the material. Miguel used his elbows to lift himself off the bed, getting a better view of you. You pecked his dick over his pants, gazing up at him. Miguel swallowed hard.

You massaged him on top of his pants, getting Miguel used to the feeling. He groaned, closing his eyes momentarily, but opened them when he felt you undoing his belt. He snapped his eyes open, staring at you.

“Is this okay?”

“Ye– yes” he stuttered. 

You smiled at him, before continuing your actions. After a few seconds, you freed his cock out of its confinements, pulling his pants and underwear down. It hit the bottom of Miguel’s stomach, standing proud in front of you. 

You licked your lips, staring at him, already salivating by just the sight. 

“Is it okay?” Miguel asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

“It’s perfect” you answered, and as to show him, you wrapped your hand around his tip, spreading the precum already there. 

Miguel threw his head back, your hands felt way better than his own. 

You continued to stroke him slowly, up and down. Your thumb massaging his tip, pressing at the head over his slit. Miguel was breathing heavily now, uneven. His thighs began to shake. 

You wetted your lips, and continuing your hand movements, kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. You spit on him, before wrapping your mouth over his head, beginning to match your hand movements with your head. 

Miguel tried to keep looking at you, but the warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue ran over his slit drove him mad. His elbows gave away, his back hitting the mattress again. He fisted his sheets on his hands, curse words leaving his lips. 

“Yess, Jesus, fuck” he moaned, spurring you on. 

With your free hand, you massaged his balls. Rolling the skin over between your fingers and squeezing them. You hollow your cheeks, sucking at his shaft. You took him as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Oh, God, yes” Miguel breathed out. He was feeling light headed, his skin sweaty, sticking to the sheets. He could feel a knot in his lower belly, almost at the point of bursting. 

You pulled back, taking a moment to breathe, but never stopping your hands. His tip was red, precum leaking from it. Tons of it. He was close, you could tell. He was lasting more than you would have thought, to be honest. 

“I’m closee” Miguel choked out. “Please” he begged, opening his eyes slightly to stare down at you.

You continued jerking him off. Your mouth going to his balls, sucking at them, before licking a stripe down the side, following the most prominent vein, reaching his tip. You gave a few kitten lips before putting it in your mouth again. Miguel’s head flew back, eyes shutting hard. 

He moaned your name over and over. Strings of “Yes, right there” “Fuck” and your name falling from his lips. All of a sudden, his vision went black. Cum spurted in your mouth, while you tried to swallow most of it. 

Miguel’s chest was heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, at the same moment you took his now softening cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva and cum still connecting the two. 

“Fuck” he mumbled. You looked so pretty. 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling at him and winking. You stood up slowly, letting your dress fall off your shoulders leaving you only with your panties on. You pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind once they reached your feet. 

Miguel was star struck. He couldn’t believe you could be more perfect than you already were. But you could. Before him, he was seeing a goddess. He was about to be fucked by a goddess. 

You straddled his lap once more, now without any item of clothing between your skin. You could already feel his dick hardening again against you. Miguel’s hand flew to your neck, bringing you in for a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, moving your hips to create the much needed friction you craved. His cock rubbed against your clit with each movement. 

His hands explored the new skin available, being cautious at first, but growing bolder. He squished your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, even pinching them, making you groan into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made, and so did you. 

You broke this kiss, running your nails down his chest, looking between your bodies. You needed him inside of you, and he wanted you to be around him. He wanted to feel all of you. 

“Condom?” You breathed out, pulling back the hairs stuck to the sweat of your forehead. 

“In the drawer,” Miguel answered.

You climbed down his body, for a split second Miguel missed your warmth, but before he could complain about it, you were already back, motioning him to get more comfortable in the bed, before seating back in his legs. You opened the squared package, pulling the condom out. 

You looked at it, and back at Miguel. “Are you really sure?”

Miguel nodded, the anticipation making his brain fuzzy. He didn’t think he could speak right now. 

You nodded, positioning yourself better. You stroke him a few times, before rolling the condom on. You lifted yourself up, using Miguel’s chest as support, while his arms flew to your waist to help you. You aligned his dick with your entrance. You were already wet from the anticipation and just making him come. He sounded so pretty, breaking under your touch. Cumming just for you, and only you. 

You rubbed his tip along your slit, tapping your clit a few times, before aligned it with your hole. You breathed in, before sinking slowly. He stretched you out so perfectly, it stinged a little, but it felt so good. 

Your mouth and Miguel’s fell open. It was so intense, finally being connected. You reached down, your hips flushed with his. Miguel’s nails were digging into your waist, while your hands squeezed his shoulders. 

You got used to his size before starting to move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Miguel let out a shaky breath, watching your movements. 

“Touch me” you purred, leaning over and taking his ear lob between your teeth, your breath tickling the side of his face. 

One of his hands stayed glued to your waist, while the other played with your breasts, alternating between the two. You nipped at his neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where no one could see them, only you. 

Miguel whined, he was enjoying the feeling, but he needed more. 

“Please, more” He begged, his hand squeezing harshly on one of your tits. 

You sat up straight, placing your hands flat on his chest for support. You lifted yourself up, leaving only half of his cock inside of you, before sinking back down. You both moaned at the same time, he felt so good inside of you. 

You kept doing that a couple more times, while Miguel forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching how his dick disappeared inside of you. Once you got used to it, you set up a rhythm, using Miguel’s chest and shoulders as support. Miguel’s hands went back to your waist, while his head flew back. His mouth was slightly open, groans and moans feeling up the room, combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Miguel’s sounds were turning you on so badly, you could barely concentrate. He grunted your name, moaned it so loudly you were sure even the neighbours could hear. You weren’t any better. His dick was hitting just the right places, stretching you out just the way you liked it. 

“Fu-Fuck” you stuttered, shutting your eyes. You were getting close, and so was Miguel, by the way his cock twitched inside of you. 

“Mig– I’m close” You cried out, the pace you had been setting faltering. 

“Me too” he said, through gritted teeth.

His hips had begun to lift from the mattress, meeting yours halfway, helping you reach both your orgasms. 

“Migg” you whimpered, slumping forward.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, as much as he could. Your nails were digging on his shoulders, while he had a death grip on your waist. One of his hands caressed your stomach, disappearing between your bodies, his thumb making contact with your clit. You jolted forward, the stimulation overwhelming you. 

Miguel began drawing tight circles on the num, matching his and yours broken rhythm. He could feel you were closed, your pussy was squeezing his cock so good, getting him over the edge. 

“Beba” he mumbled, before throwing his head back and cumming inside of the condom, making you fall over the edge and come around him.

You collapsed on his chest, his thumb rubbing small figures still in your clit while you rock your hips in circles, coming down from your high. 

You stilled your hips, while Miguel his hand from between you, placing it in your back and rubbing it up and down, with the little power he had left. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, recovering. Both of your bodies covered in sweat, and the both of you with smiles over your face. 

You lifted your head slightly, placing your chin on his chest, looking at him. He looked so peaceful, breathing slowly from his nose, eyes closed. You pulled back a strand of hair stuck to his forehead, caressing his face with the back of your fingers. Miguel opened his eyes, his gaze falling on yours. 

“Hi!” You whispered, stroking his cheek. 

“Hi” he smiled, eyes tired, blinking slowly, like a child almost falling asleep.

“I love you Mig”

“Te amo, mi vida, y siempre lo haré” (I love you, my life, and I’ll always do)

Authors notes: AHHHH I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the first one!!! Thanks for all the love 🥹☺️

I'm a little anxious or nervous about this one because of all the lovey dovey stuff (mainly the smut) but anyway, I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too!!! I had so much fun with this one.

It turned out to be sooo long!! Funny that I cut the first one because I thought that 2k was A LOT, and this is 8k. Oh well.

I may edit this a little later, cause I don't really know how to feel about the smut. I honestly wanted it to be longer. But maybe I'll do another part, or a side story featuring what I wanted (Basically, Miguel eating you out). Anyway, let me know what you guys think!! Be truthful, don't hold back!! You can tell me: "Never write Smut again" And I'll allow it.

Practice makes perfect I suppose, so the more I write about sex the more I should improve, right? But, well. I think it is good to be the second time.

Tags: @guilty-pleasures21 @boogiemansbitch @amberbalcom14

[mister-eames]

hii! mustn’t be afraid nonnie here .. your words are absolutely wonderful seriously!! Thank you for putting so beautifully.. so here’s another one..

What’s with the deal of “speCIFICITY”? I mean it’s once again, loving improvised by mr Hardy and we would never know why (I guess?) but given in A/E context I feel like it’s either because of one of their past incidents (idk may be once Arthur didn’t take something eames specifically asked for or sth) or OR eames making fun of the using fancy word by Arthur who is actually from a working class family in contrary to eames being from a family who uses such words quite often? Or what do you think? Have a lovely day!!

Hello nonnie and welcome back!!! Thank you for both questions, they're very thought-provoking!! <3

I must say I've always loved the idea that 'specificity' is the latter scenario. I'm convinced of the idea of street-rat Arthur who is self-taught, who doesn't have a fancy education -- mispronounces words/names accidentally, isn't always grammatically correct, despite often being the smartest person in the room. And that, no matter Arthur's attempts to appear refined, and how he can fool everyone else, Eames can tell how rough he is around the edges from a mile away. Maybe when they first met Arthur was seemed read, well-travelled, but gave his inexperience and unconventional education away by mispronouncing words like homage, ingénue, or gist with a hard 'g'. Maybe Arthur can cite pi to the nth place but has never read Vonnegut.

It's not that Eames thinks Arthur is, or has ever been, dumb, that he's not intelligent. It's just that Eames remembers how far Arthur's come, but is also very much the same. He's still that same twenty-something who hates Sunday drivers and will flip off a belligerent stranger on a crowded street and drink cheap, bottom-shelf liquor to save a dime. Now he's just dressed better and can fool others to think he was born with a silver spoon.

Eames, it seems in the case of Arthur, cannot help pigtail pulling. We see him being a bit more of a lad when he's aiming for levity and genuinely taking the piss out of someone ("too much champagne, eh Yusuf?" and making Saito visibly uncomfortable with his forge) but with Arthur he is purposefully trying to rile him up, to poke and prod him until Eames gets prodded back. With 'specificity' and 'condescension' and kicking Arthur's chair, Eames isn't going in for a laugh for the sake of laughing, he's pre-pre-pre-pre courting. Classic 'pay attention to me' behaviour. Eames is exactly like a patellar reflex test - he knows exactly where to tap to get the reaction from Arthur he wants.

And then Arthur looks at Eames with impatience and that something in his eyes and Eames thinks ah, there you are.

[moonsavior]

Happy Snowhunt Day! I'm on to you

[vimbry-moved]

withdrawn, stoic character having a moment of softness in a fanwork: !!!

withdrawn, stoic character being their usual emotionally unavailable and awkward self in a fanwork: !!!! :)!