#maybe he shaves to keep showing off his scars
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Pinky, who do you think would end up growing facial hair? Like, I feel like Time and Twi would be the most likely, but who, surprisingly, would end up growing their own and liking it?
I feel like Sky, Hyrule, and Four would be our unlikely beard guys
YES! Give me Time and Twilight with facial hair!!
I'm willing to bet that Wind grows some when he gets there and keeps it because he thinks he looks cool.
Legend and Warrior would probably be clean shaven whether they have the ability or not.
Four probably can't. I don't know why. He probably tries to grow it out though.
Sky and Hyrule grow beards. Hyrule- because he wouldn't shave period and Sky-... probably because he just grows into it. He ages gracefully.
Wild... hmmm. Tough one. I want to say he could but his scars probably messed up the way the hair grows and he doesn't care for it. He's probably also part of the clean shaven club.
#pinky replies#If Wild can grow it out then it would probably cover said scars#that being said- who know?#maybe he shaves to keep showing off his scars#and not because he's proud of them#like in a self torment sort of way if we want to go the angst route.
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Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity
Impurities
hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright
Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !
You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.
He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.
You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.
Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.
You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.
You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.
“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.
MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.
“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.
You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”
MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.
“Okay.”
Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.
MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.
One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.
“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.
“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.
“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.
“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?
“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.
“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.
Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.
To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.
Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.
For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.
Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.
“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.
With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.
“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.
“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.
You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.
You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.
“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.
Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.
“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.
“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.
Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems
Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.
He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.
“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.
“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.
He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.
His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.
“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”
You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.
“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper.
“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust. Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.
“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”
“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.
Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.
a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Maybe you celebrate Easter. Maybe you celebrate Trans Day of Visibility. Maybe you celebrate both, or neither. I am here to make those holidays infinitely worse or better, depending on how you look at this post. Special thanks to @squishyowl for giving me the parameters to calculate their (hard) schmeat sizes.
Without further adieu, Primarch cock descriptions. and also kind of how they fugg
LION EL'JONSON- 11 inches, 27 cm. Untrimmed and uncut. He shows a godly amount of restraint to you. Behind closed doors, he's much softer than he lets on. As far as girth goes, he's in the middle of the road... for a Primarch. He may not be the most experienced of his brothers, but he's going to do a thorough job anyways.
???- Dick fell off.
FULGRIM- 10 inches, 25 cm. Long and slender. You may expect a piercing, but he does not want to mar his natural appearance (at least before the Heresy.) Shaves religiously. He likes when his partner can't move, when they squirm underneath him, though he'll have a hard time admitting this.
PERTURABO- 7 inches, 18 cm. The smallest cock on the list, but he more than makes up for it while he is using it. He's got a bit of girth to him, but he can still fit in your mouth. Somewhat. His hands engulf your head as he pushes you down on him. Once he's out, tell him how good he feels.
JAGHATAI KHAN- 13 inches, 33 cm. The fastest one out of the Primarchs as far as each thrust goes. It curves up when erect, not unlike a scimitar. Veiny, but not strikingly so. Even though he's exceptionally fast, he likes being ridden. Especially on his bike.
LEMAN RUSS- 14 inches, 35 cm. He's uncut and hairy down there, he's never shaved his bush. He's also girthy. But what's most remarkable about him is his knot. This makes it hard for him not to breed his partners, where applicable. He'll hold you down and lock himself in on you, holding you down on him with his massive hands.
ROGAL DORN- 10 inches, 25 cm. He's circumcised and he keeps a clean shave. He's girthy, but not unbearably so. He enjoys tying up his partner and watching them melt as he goes down on them. Ever stoic, his expression rarely changes as he plows through you. Also a fan of doing it in his office.
KONRAD CURZE- 9 inches, 23 cm. Veiny, almost paper white, and uncut. He's not a gentle lover, especially considering his size. Usually there will be blood involved, and usually it is yours. He doesn't normally just use his cock; if he can reach you, he'll be biting you. And if not, he'll draw blood anyways.
SANGUINIUS- 8 inches, 20 cm. Surprisingly girthy, with low-hanging balls. He's uncut, but his bush is usually trimmed. He doesn't just use his cock, he bites where he can and envelopes you in his wings. He's gentle... for the first five minutes. He'll leave the most marks out of any of the Primarchs, prompting you to cover up the day after.
FERRUS MANUS- 17 inches, 43 cm. Lord have mercy. He is the most well-endowed Primarch, with balls to match. He'll hold you down with his cool silver hands as he pushes himself in. He's gentle, far more than he lets on, but he is still a Primarch. He's become quite the aftercare giver.
???- Penis serious, Penis delirious. Penis in the woods, call that penis mysterious
ANGRON- 9 inches, 23 cm. The arena had not been kind, as he is scarred in several places around it. Fortunately, no blade has ever found its way there. He isn't gentle, not one bit, even if he is chained down. The Nails eat at his head, screaming for bloodshed. He thrusts faster in a vain attempt to block out the agony in his head.
ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- 8 inches, 20 cm, and girthy. Despite his size being closer to normal for a baseline human, it's harder to fit it in due to his circumference. With some lube and determination, though, you can make it work. He likes putting it in you and watching you try to keep your composure before you inevitably slip up.
MORTARION- 11 inches, 27 cm. It's long and gaunt on him, but it's still massive in your hand. He's one of the more sensitive Primarchs, but he'd prefer if that fact were kept under wraps. Gentle touch gets him going like nothing else. And once he gets going, you'll get to bear firsthand witness to the endurance he's known for.
MAGNUS THE RED- The bastard can change his dick size on a whim. He already knows what size would make you feel best, and he can open up more than one hole at once using the Warp. He doesn't even have to touch you to open you up, turning you into an incomprehensible mess in front of him.
HORUS LUPERCAL- 12 inches, 30 cm. The most striking thing about it is the Prince Albert that adorns it, a simple iron thing with a dull shine. Even if by some miracle you're on top, he'll always be the dominant partner, and if you have the ability you are most definitely bearing his children at some point.
LORGAR AURELIAN- 11 inches, 28 cm. You weren't expecting the second shortest Primarch to pack so much, were you? Golden tattoos come close to it, but he hadn't the will to cover himself there. You'll spend a lot of time with him; he'll use his tongue for hours on end before finally gratifying himself.
VULKAN- 10 inches, 26 cm. He's warm all over, and below the belt is no exception. In the cold reaches of space, he's a great comfort. Even if he's not the biggest of the Primarchs, he likes watching you struggle on him. He's girthy, and he likes to choke you with it too. Gives the best aftercare.
CORVUS CORAX- 11 inches, 27 cm. He's long, slender, and he keeps a close shave. He's a gentle lover when you're properly going at it and not hiding your risque behavior while in public. He'll hold your hands and whisper praises into your ear, even if he has to bend himself at an uncomfortable angle.
ALPHARIUS- 8 inches, 21 cm. He's hairless, circumcised, and his balls are almost unnaturally even. You've seen many an Alpha Legion cock, and they all look similar. He likes to finish in his partner, leaving no trace that he was there except for the slightly odd hobble you have the next day.
#warhammer 40k x reader#primarch x reader#lion el'jonson#fulgrim#perturabo#jaghatai khan#leman russ#rogal dorn#konrad curze#sanguinius#ferrus manus#angron#roboute guilliman#mortarion#magnus the red#horus lupercal#lorgar aurelian#vulkan#corvus corax#alpharius#warhammer lobotomy#i take criticism in venmo and paypal. btw
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r6 spetsnaz head canons (SLIGHT NSFW)
my 4 favorite beefy Russian men... Just little head canons i have about how they look (for tachanka and kapkan mainly, but glaz and fuze included anyway)
CREDIT TO ALL ARTISTS WHOS ART I HAVE USED IN THIS !!
TACHANKA / ALEXSANDR SENAVIEV
He most likely has graying hair, being in his 50s I believe?? Late 40s to early 50s, this man is graying, he's been through a divorce and has like 3 kids i think. His hair is a dark brown/black with gray streaks and roots, his eyebrows having already grayed with bits of black in them still. Very salt and peppered. He definitely isn't all muscle anymore in his older age, having a bit of pudge around his stomach, hips, chest and arms. Pretty much a super fucking muscular dad bod but better cause its our lord. He might have a few stretch marks hidden in the scars from battle on his body, but isn't ashamed if you point them out. I don't see him as the type to have a beard, maybe a mustache if you think about it too hard, but I'd guess clean cut just very stubbly. but LAWD he is most definitely hairy as hell everywhere else if we ignore the animation for his elite skin and how oiled up he looks... hnnggg.... BUT he most def has very hairy legs, some chest hair but not much, gotta show off the tats, and a happy trial. He is most def packing a monster and keeps his pubes slightly trimmed, just enough to be bearable, he's getting older, he cant be bothered to be as smooth shaven as when he was young.
10/10 would chew on him like a teething toy.
KAPKAN / MAXIM BUSADA
love of my life, apple of my eye, can do no wrong, babygirl... Okay so, he's in his late 30s, not so much graying yet but def getting there. He's got dark roots and light brown ends, most likely no beard just very long stubble. 5 o'clock shadow king. He's still quite fit, not as much squish as tachanka but most def still a bit squishable. he might have slight stretch marks around his arms or thighs. HE ALSO IS SO HAIRY. Literal Russian bear, okay?? This man is a hunter, he def stays hairy because quote, "A true hunter can be an animal himself." or some mystical quote about being a true hunter like that. But he's got hairy arms and legs, chest hair and a thick happy trail leading down to barely even trimmed pubes and again an absolute monster schlong. he seems like the type to go all natural with his shaving habits, only trimming it a bit if you ask. He most definitely has lots of scars around his body, and isn't afraid to tell you about them whenever you ask.
11/10, would put him in a jar and shake it around like he was a little bug.
GLAZ / TIMUR GLAZKOV
He's 30, and DAYUM does he look good.. his hair is black, you can tell that be looking at the obvious beard thing he's got. He doesn't seem like he'd be very hairy, being i think the youngest of the 4, he stays pretty clean shaven besides the beard. Not much body hair besides legs, arms, and a thin happy trail leading down to a medium monster and very well trimmed pubes. they aren't completely shaven, but are very short. He seems like he is mostly made of lean muscle, so he isn't the squishiest but is still very soft. I don't think he's really started to get stretch marks yet, but definitely has loads of scars, considers his body a canvas and the scars the art on it that tell the story, and of those stories he will only share a few with you if you ask cause most of them he doesn't really remember how he got either. Considering he's an artist, I like to think that he'll just have mystery stains on him. Like dude, why are your fingers lime green today?? He doesn't know either, he was just simply painting.
10/10, would tape a picture of him to my pillow and hump it. (only jk guys i swear...)
FUZE / SHUHRAT KESSIKBAYEV
My favorite partially mute, weirdly closed off, awkward and most likely autistic bbg. Based off the skin where you can see his face, he is clean shaven but is another 5 o'clock shadow KING. I think he'd either have very light brown hair, or black hair, no in between. He's in his early 30s but is most def getting squishy like tachanka already. he is a big boy guys. He doesn't have the dad bod type squish like tachanka does, maybe more like a bit of a tummy and THICCCKKKKK thighs and bulky arms. He has a few stretch marks, hates them, and also hates most of the scars he has. To him, they are only a reminder that his job involves a lot of pain, some of it permanant.. *cough cough* accidentally cluster charging that hostage *cough cough*.. but he wouldn't mind telling you about a few if you were close enough with him and asked nicely (bribed him while he was drunk). Considering his face is pretty clean shaven, he probably doesn't have much body hair but definitely enough. Hairy legs, arms, a little bit of chest hair and a somewhat thick hair but thin shaped happy trail leading down to a medium but THICK LIKE THE REST OF HIM monster and an absolute mess of pubes. He seems like a lonely man, he's got no real reason to shave em, so why should he?
12/10, is autistic like me, we would go nonverbal together and do some wicked shit like have a staring contest.
#kapkan x reader#rainbow six siege x reader#fuze x reader#tachanka x reader#glaz x reader#rainbow six fanfiction#rainbow 6 siege#rainbow six siege#r6s#x reader#headcanon
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☆ norton campbell ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons
pairing / norton campbell x afab gn! reader
disclaimer / overstimulation & breeding kink
word count / 1,159 words
SFW
⭒ norton is not the type to bat an eye on anyone because he has no interest. he almost never falls but when he falls, he falls hard. you must've done something that left a gnawing impression on norton. you'll be the first person he notices in a room full of people.
⭒ norton has attachment issues so its' safe to say he can be easily swayed by jealousy, making him react recklessly. even small things can make him jealous, whether it be miscommunication or not, please help sort it out and remind him of his worth. norton is not the type to take well to criticism and will feel invalidated if not for your affirmations.
⭒ to be very honest, norton is EXTREMELY emotionally unavailable. he has intense thoughts and feelings that of course, he won't share because he knows how intense it can be for the other person. instead, he just wants you to help ground him whenever he's feeling out of it. hugging or holding him tightly, rubbing your hand back and forth on his back, play with his hair, anything to help ground him.
⭒ one of norton's love language is 100% gift giving because that's what he always lacked in his life. he would love to take you out in any luxurious clothing store to have you all decked out in jewelry and designer brand clothing but in reality, he knows he can't spoil you the way he wants to.
⭒ norton is not big on words, mostly because he's a shy person to his significant other. so he mostly enjoys personal time between the two, basking in each other's company and silence if need be. but don't get me wrong, he absolutely loves words of affirmations directed towards him. he'd never outright admit it or ask for it because he finds it embarrassing, but trust me, whenever he's feeling down, he loves to just get reminded of his worth.
⭒ when you're both out in public together, he likes keeping you close to him at all times with his hand around your waist. he's a bit shy but he won't hesitate to call you "mi amor" in front of others. he's shy but he likes pda and it makes him feel proud of himself and a feeling to just simply show you off.
⭒ when you're behind closed doors, he will not bat an eye to wrap his hands all around you. he's a pure golden retriever in private. putting you on his lap, hugging you from behind and his head on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you can't move.
⭒ his favorite places to kiss you is most definitely your lips. he just loves how soft they feel on his. he also very much likes kissing your neck and thighs, especially marking them.
⭒ if you're shorter or smaller in size than him, he loves to tease you over it. he loves how easy it is to pick you up and sure, looking down can hurt his neck but he absolutely finds it hilarious that you have to look up at him just to make eye contact. if you're taller and bigger in size than him, he'll love that too!
NSFW
⭒ norton does have experience but not much to know exactly what to do to please you. please guide him! he's a fast learner so he's sure to pick up on it almost instantly.
⭒ he's very insecure over this scars that he gained from the mining accident so at first, it was just a lot of clothed sex. when he finally decides to show you his entire self bare means he's finally accepted you in his life. even though he's still afraid of the thought of losing you, it's his intimate way of telling you he trusts you.
⭒ 8 inches 😶. maybe because i'm biased but that man is tall as hell, i know damn well his dick is too. he prefers to keep it clean down there, shaving a bit but leaving some. if you have any hair down there or not, he wouldn't care at all.
⭒ norton is a switch, 100%. some days, he just wants to relax and admire you taking the reign. other days, he wants you to be the one cowering and whimpering underneath him.
⭒ overstimulating and breeding kink, he loves the idea of starting a family with you. for overstimulating, at the start, he was afraid of overstimulating you as he didn't want you to be in pain in any way. but over time, he knows it's okay and loves the dazed expression on you when he fills you up and dry. if you are uncomfortable with overstimulation, do not hesitate to say your safe word as he'll instantly stop and apologize.
⭒ doggy, missionary, and cowgirl are his favorite positions. when fucking you, he loves to see the effect he's making on you. whether it be from your expression giving you away or the way your body reacts from his touch, he's just so infatuated and curious about you.
⭒ big no to public sex. however, if he's feeling extra jealous that day or simply can't handle his situation, he'll call you over and ask to go to a secluded part. i love to imagine that whenever he's needy, he has that urge to just take you in while you're sitting on a counter, the wall, or a door.
⭒ he is completely infatuated with the noises you make, it's an ego boost to him really. he's the type to be so drunk in your noises, he'll keep riding you and overstimulating you (accidentally) just to continue hearing your moans and pleas.
⭒ he loves marking you in visible places but he also loves marking you in places where other people can't see. just the fact that it's only seen by him and only him really turns him on, especially when he undresses you and see that oh so familiar hickey on your thigh.
⭒ aftercare is him silently getting up to go run bath for you and returning to bridal carry you to the bathroom. he cleans up the bed when you're soaking up in the bathtub. the night is filled of his constant murmurings, "i love you's" in your ear while holding you tightly in his arms.
⭒ he's that cheesy and stereotypical type to be the one that's first awake, staring at you affectionately for hours in the morning. also that nasty guy that just peppers you with more kisses in the morning (nasty ass morning breath, but it's okay because it's norton 🥲).
⭒ thanks to norton, your legs are sore so be prepared to cancel all of your matches the entire week and be absolutely spoiled with attention. norton is, by nature, a passionate man. he has so much love to give so please treat him with your utmost care.
#idv#identity v#identity v x reader#idv x reader#norton campbell#norton campbell x reader smut#idv x reader smut#identity v x reader smut#prospector x reader smut#norton campbell smut#norton campbell x reader#identity v hc#identity v hcs#identity v headcanons#identity v headcanon#identity v smut hc#identity v smut hcs#idv smut hcs
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Accident (BTD Strade fanfic)
Strade gets his trademark scar while shaving! (based on old answers from Gato's ask blog)
contains: Strade, Ren, Shaving Accident, very mild Ren/Strade
Strade began his Sunday morning the way he always did. A nice long shower, extra hot, gargling with the water that tasted like it'd been through a rockslide to try and get the morning breathe taste off his tongue.
Then he stepped out of the showed, wrapped a towel around his waist and brushed his teeth before getting out a straight razor. He was't concerned with getting a clean shave, just something to keep himself presentable looking. And something that left him without the hassle of caring for a beard.
Slapping some shaving cream on, he hummed to himself, running the straight blade down the side of his face.
He found himself glancing towards the bathroom door. He left it open, after all, he had no reason to lock it, he lived alone-
The sight of the smaller male standing there, looking a bit awkward made Strade do an uncharacteristic yelp and jump in surprise, his hand jerking the blade.
His yell of surprise quickly turned to a throat rumbling yell. The sharp edge easily slit through the skin of his jaw, hell, it went deeper. He felt it grind against the bone, sending a nauseated lurch through his stomach, the vibrations of the grinding on bone felt throughout his entire body.
The straight razor fell to the floor with a clang as Strade gripped at his face, breathing heavily. Blood was quickly pooling in his hands, leaking out between.
He glanced back at the man in the doorway, Ren. Ren who he had decided to keep just a week ago. Ren who was wearing a heavy collar he'd made to keep him in the house. Ren who had just been allowed upstairs the other day.
Ren who was frozen stiff, staring at him as he bled. His tail was bristled, ears flat, looking ready to run.
"Med kit." Strade grunted, holding his new cut. "Kitchen cupboard, above the fridge."
Ren instantly scurried away, no doubt in a hurry to follow his instructions. He could hear the distant sound of a chair moving, no doubt for Ren to stand on so he could reach over the fridge.
Strade had lived alone for years. He hadn't had a roommate in... well, he had never had a roommate. By all accounts, Ren should have become another pile of ashes in his kiln, another load of memories for him to dream of.
But he liked him too much. And maybe a constant canvas for his cruelty would help him out in the long run. And so, he'd worked on that heavy metal collar, he'd hooked it on Ren like a dog...
And in the grogginess of the morning, he'd forgotten about his new housemate.
Ren appeared back in the doorway now, holding the medkit. Strade reached out a hand for it, but Ren ignored it.
The kit was set down, and opened. A roll of gauze, some medical tape, antibiotic spray, carefully lined up.
"Let me see it." Ren said, his voice hoarse, quiet. Strades eyes scrunched as he peeled his now blood soaked hand away from the cut. Ren flinched. It must be bad.
Dabbing at it with wet clothe, smearing on the antibiotic, positioning the gauze and applying pressure... all the actions screamed Ren's pleas.
"I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me. I'll help you, I'll fix what I did" he could see it in his eyes. The way his tail twitched. Strade grinned, letting Ren pull himself away.
"Sorry buddy." Strade reached forward, ruffling Ren's hair and ears roughly. "I'm not usually so jumpy! Not used to having a roommate yet."
Strade glanced in the mirror, then down at his bloody hands before letting out a chuckle.
"I look like I just murdered someone. Think the cut will scar?"
#boyfriend to death#strade#btd fanfic#boyfriend to death fanfic#strade btd#ren btd#ren boyfriend to death#ren hana
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Bluebonnets (1)
Chapter One
Human!Transformers
Optimus x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader
Story Summary: Bluebonnets are one of your favorite flowers. You loved admiring their color and beauty as they swayed in the wind. But for others, all they found was a trampled field of bluebonnets and a missing girl.
I wanna shout out @caspianmira for letting me know that I should post this story from A03 to here. This one's for you, friend
Next Chapter
Working at a gas station had its perks.
Especially at a gas station in the middle of nowhere in Texas.
You barely had any customers, the main crowd being the truckers that had stopped here for gas or the occasional group that stopped to get snacks.
Most came and went, barely seeing them again after they paid and drove off, kicking the dirt up with their tires as a silent goodbye.
But there was one that would always continue to come back.
His signature blue and red semi would pull in every other week at the same time on Fridays, most of the time it didn’t have a load strapped behind it.
His routine was always the same too: get the gas to start filling the truck, head inside to grab a snack or two, have small talk with the cashier, and then head on his way.
Leaving the cashier none the wiser.
~~
Your eyes flicker occasionally to the clock on the wall beside you while waiting for a familiar semi truck to pull into the station. It had been slow today, much slower than usual on a Friday.
Usually, groups of friends would stop to refuel and grab snacks, most heading to Galveston or Padre Island. But today was quiet.
It felt silly to look forward to this one part of the day, but to you, the routine of it was the best. The man who came in was always a plus, though.
He was muscular and well-built, intimidating the cashier the first time they had met. His slightly tanned skin reminded you of the farmers that occasionally stopped by, and depending on if he was wearing his jacket or not showed off a few scars he had on his arms.
His jet black hair was in a military crew cut, shaved down on the sides but a perfect length on top to where you could just barely run your fingers through it. His square jawline hid behind a well-trimmed beard the same color as his hair.
Now his eyes, those stood out to you the most other than his height (clearly a good foot and a few inches taller). They were blue, but not like any you had ever seen, so vibrant and intense every time you looked into them. You couldn’t help but shiver at just thinking about them.
The sound of an engine nearing was what drew you out of your thoughts, your eyes brightening as you peered out the window, looking for that truck.
Your shoulders deflate ever so slightly in disappointment at the realization that it wasn’t him, but instead a farmer who visited regularly.
All this time and all of your daydreaming, you never even realized that the man had never given his name.
But he knew yours by heart.
~~
Hours had passed, the dark of the night encompassing the sky, and still no sign of the truck diver.
It was odd, he had this routine ever since the first encounter four months ago. He never missed a day and was always there around the same time. It confused you, but you could only dwell on it. Maybe it'd be best to ask him the next time he returns?
It was time to close the gas station, turning off all the lights inside and locking the doors. You check over the pumps one last time, making sure they would work throughout the night, before heading over to the nearby pay phone.
You were careful of the patch of bluebonnets that grew around it, setting your feet perfectly to keep from crushing them as you began to dial in the number of a good friend.
It took a few rings for them to answer and you happily informed them that you were ready to be picked up. After the friend confirmed that they’d be there soon, you told them quickly that your car should be done in the shop in the next day or two.
Hanging up after a small ‘goodbye’, you observe the field of bluebonnets beside the station, finding a small area you could sit down and wait.
You had just sat down when the sudden feeling of two arms wrapping themselves around your body shocked you. One around your waist and the other around your neck. The arm around your neck tightened itself ever so slightly.
You weren't even given the time to scream.
A gasp leaves your lips as your hands fly up to the arm around your neck, scratching and pulling against the black leather jacket in hopes of relieving the increasing pressure.
Your eyes bulge, feeling your lungs beginning to constrict from the sudden loss of air. Reaching your hand back, you dig your nails into the skin you came into contact with, scratching as hard as you could.
The arms suddenly release you, and you take a deep inhale as tears roll down your cheeks. Coughing and sputtering, you quickly try to crawl away from the assailant, digging your nails and the toe of your shoes into the dirt below for some leverage.
You didn’t make it very far as a fist suddenly connected with the back of your head, the force so much it caused you to land harshly into the dirt. It quickly caked your face from the tears and snot.
The figure climbs over you, their knees firmly beside your waist as their arm wraps itself back around your neck.
Black dots swirl in your vision, arms getting too weak to hold yourself up as the assailant moves his face right beside yours. His blonde hair is the only thing you see before your eyes roll into the back of your head, fully going unconscious.
~~
A car soon pulled up to the gas station, looking for the female who had called them just a few minutes before.
Their friend exits the car, a gasp of surprise leaving their lips at the sight of the scuffle that was evident by the uprooted dirt and the destroyed bluebonnets. The only things left behind are a small purse and a metallic name tag.
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Through Scars
a jealous nic is rare… an EXTREMELY pissed off one even rarer. so this is like a solar eclipse
wordcount: 890
。゚☁︎。 ☀︎ 。゚☁︎
Recently, days were as long as hours. Lonely hours of sleeping in a bed that should hold two, staring at a wall. Nic’s head throbbed like it did years ago, in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep. Since he escaped the pain went away, yet now it’s back, as scorching as ever.
He never got along much with Railroad members. Tom was eccentric, demanded too much socially. Carrington was a bore, complaining more than Nic did himself. Desdemona was alright, she was good company, but not great. Nobody in these quarters was who he wanted anymore. All because of this stupid job.
Etched on a blackboard was Deacon’s new schedule. “Wake up around 5, get to Diamond City in an hour minimum, then Goodneighbor, return back to report, then sleep.” There was no “spend time with others,” Nic was exaggerating, he wanted it to be only “spend time with your husband.” Countless times he had tried to erase this schedule, in hopes Deacon would forget it, but it would return the next day. If these boards weren’t so annoying to find and bring back, he would’ve destroyed it.
It doesn’t make sense. How is stalking some person helping synths, or whatever? A person he doesn’t know the name of, the gender of, anything of. All he knew was “vault dweller.” 24/7 the radio looped, vault dweller, hero of the commonwealth, everybody’s favorite!
Perhaps just Deacon’s favorite, at this point.
For all he knows this was just a ruse. Everybody was laughing behind the scenes, watching him become a slave to hope. Hope that one day he’d wake up with his husband in his arms again. They wanted to test his love, maybe obsession. He had devoted a decade to this man. But now he’s certainly leaving, like everything else in the past. Nothing changes, nothing-
An obnoxiously loud yawn interrupts his thoughts.
“Honey, I’m home!” Deacon was now here, slinging his arms around his neck and laughing. But this time he didn’t smile, he didn’t turn back. Instead he stared at the wall, tense enough for veins to pop even more out of his neck.
“...Hello,” he couldn’t even muster a full greeting.
Deacon immediately knew something was up, it showed in the way the ends of his lips curved downwards, just like Nic’s. “What’s got you angsty now? On your period or something?” He joked, as it was all he knew how to do.
“Why’d you come here so early? Vault dweller didn’t want to hang out tonight?”
“Pfft, what?” Deacon’s tone was teasing, but slowly his face was falling to annoyance, “I wanted to see you. Got hours off.”
“I’m sure,” Nic sat up, making the bed creak, “First break you take in literal months? How sweet of you.” The way his brain encouraged him was familiar. To the days when his head was shaved, when he was armed every second, when he didn’t care.
But Deacon’s touch on his hands held him back, “Don’t be jealous. I’m not into them, I only love you,” the spy’s voice waned. Blue eyes shined through his aviators, showing truth. Clouds in Nic’s head convinced him it was lies.
“Don’t fucking play. God knows what you’re doing, what a coincidence the vault dweller’s always somewhere with a hotel? You fucking asshole, lying to my face!” He released his husband’s hands. “Why come home to me, I can’t please you, right? Go take Ice-man’s prick, don’t waste your damn time!”
“Honey, what the hell is wrong with-” Deacon took a breath. His lashes caught the tears of his eyes before they fell. Already he was crying. Either from shock, anger, fear, something. “I’m working, seriously. Not doing anything like that. I couldn’t imagine.”
“How the hell am I supposed to believe that? You have documents on this stranger, won’t tell me who they are, your life is now based on them. The hell happened to me?”
“What do you mean? They’re important for our cause, okay? You know what this could do for us, you’re not my total job.”
“Maybe I should be, just so I can keep you in fucking check!” For a moment it looked like Nic was about to smack him.
Before anything happened, Deacon dropped limp to his husband’s arms, into his chest. Right away Nic’s hand lowered, trembling with guilt.
“...I’m sorry,” Nic’s voice cracked, as if he was the one who was just yelled at. It felt like that though, and worse. Deacon’s eyes gave out, spilling into waterfalls onto his chest. Fearfully, Nic watched the damage he caused. “Honey,” his head fell from its high, “oh my god, are you okay?”
Puffed lips didn’t dare to speak.
“I don’t know where that came from, okay? I was just in a bad mood, god, I don’t mean any of that,” he held him tighter, never wanting to release. “You’re my world, my one and only, my angel, my light, my-”
“I-I know, I know.”
All Nic could do was hold him, wanting the love in his heart to shine harder, through brown skin and into pale. The hate and anger that he was full of fizzled out, leaving ashes in fire’s wake.
“You know I love you?”
Deacon looked up at him, already exhausted, “Can I just sleep?”
“I’ll sleep with you then.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆
thank u to lovely @wassertoffatom for this idea!! they didnt ask for it to be so angsty… i was just in the mood for it
if u have any ideas id love if u told me em, thank u!
#deacon fallout 4#f/o#deacon fo4#fallout 4#self shipper#yumeship#deanic#oc x canon#oc#writing#fanfic
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JOHN DOE NSFW-ABC
John Doe's nsfw alphabet just because he deserves one.
NSFW! I don't want any minors to interact with this text!
TW: Mature themes, blood, non-con, stalking
John Doe - genderfluid (he/him)
You/Reader - gender neutral
A = Aftercare
Doe loves aftercare, especially cuddling. He wraps his arms, legs and his surprisingly lively dark curls around each part of your poor body, he won’t let you go. Doe takes advantage of the fact that you are tired and he would never help you to clean yourself (since he even would never let you do this) afterwards, that’s the way he prefers you, dirty and sweaty.
B = Body part
Obviously, he adores every part of your body.
Talking about Doe’s body, his most sensitive part is hair. He loves you petting, playing and pulling his curls. He wouldn’t mind if you tugged his hair hard while he gave you oral.
Doe is also weak for you touching his scars. And his ears are delicate too. He is literally trembling when you’re gently tucking his hair and whispering something in his ear, or, maybe, licking him behind his ear.
C = Cum
Doe needs to cover you in his cum. He loves making things dirty, he would love to cum on your face, chest/breast, stomach, thighs or whatever. He especially likes to fill your mouth, pleading you to stick out your tongue to admire the sight of white thick ropes of his cum on it.
He usually puts his fingers in the puddle of cum on your stomach and draws hearts or other silly doodles, then he makes you lick his dirty fingers.
D = Dirty secret
He has a lot, but doesn’t keep it a secret. He has done a lot of dirty things like stealing your underwear, jerking off on you while you’re sleeping, watching you change clothes through the window.
Usually he just throws these facts in your face during breakfast. “did you know that I licked the dirty forks you ate with?”
E = Experience
He isn’t experienced at all, moreover he actually didn’t even know what sex was. One day you were lying in each other's arms and kissing and he just felt the tension in his lower stomach. You had to explain to him how the genital works and the concept of intimacy between people. Then you showed it to him, gently stroking his lengths until he had his first orgasm. After this experience, he couldn’t stop thinking about sex and how people do this and what you have more to show him.
F = Favorite position
His top choice is missionary, because he can see all your body and, the most important, your face. He loves you riding him the most and he prefers any pose in which he can admire your facial expression.
G = Goofy
Sex is a new concept for Doe, he is a bit nervous so he wouldn’t act goofy or humorously, but he remains as silly as usual. He can’t help but smile with his eerie grin during sex and sometimes it gets disturbing.
H = Hair
He doesn’t shave himself at all. And the carpet does match the drapes, he still has this black curles down. He doesn’t understand the sense of grooming and he would prefer you having your hair, but he doesn’t care much though. Because of his interest in human habits, he would like to help you shave your intimate areas himself, just to take a curious look there and touch it once more.
I = Intimacy
He is an old good gentlemen. All his knowledge about romantic things comes from the rom comes he loves to watch, so usually his flirt is silly, but it’s always genuine, and that makes up all the awkwardness.
J = Jack off
He does this every time you aren’t available for intimacy. He uses your photos and underwear or just clothes that smells like you. Though, he can be satisfied only with thoughts and his imagination. He would close his eyes and even talk to himself some of the hot replicas he imagined.
K = Kink Okay, I think there will be a long list, but some of the most important ones:
Blood kink and knife play. He doesn’t like the idea of hurting you, so he’ll probably ask you to cut him instead during sex.
Somnophilia. Doe will touch you while you’re asleep, starting with light strokes and moving on to gripping your thighs and wet kisses, just because he is curious when it’ll be too noticeable and you’ll wake up.
Submission. Doe likes to obey you, listening to your commands and fulfill all your wishes. He likes the praise you give him even more and he wants to deserve his praise. He would also like to dress up for you, whether it's lacy lingerie, stockings or a maid outfit.
L = Location
Usually you do things at home in your bed, but he doesn’t care at all about the place. Doe needed time to understand human norms and stop trying to undress you in public.
Bonus: Doe definitely has some dreams of fucking you at the gas station, he finds this place special due to “oh isn’t that romantic, we met there and had a talk, now let me fuck you right behind the counter”
M = Motivation
Literally every little thing you do.
You bent down to tie shoelaces? What a sight. You’re changing into your home clothes after work? Let Doe help you. Got your hand stuck in the washing machine? Doe saw a couple of videos of what people do in such situations.
N = No
As soon as Doe realized that you’re a fragile human and gained some knowledge of human anatomy, he became afraid of harming you.
So he wouldn’t do something dangerous, though he likes blood and knives. But sometimes he gets overexcited and can really go too far.
O = Oral
Doe prefers to give. He wouldn’t go against your will to give him oral, he will with pleasure look at you kneeling down before him. He is a total mess while receiving, you can see him trembling and shaking. He would literally cry from stimulation if he could.
But once his head is between your legs you can’t stop him. He keeps whispering some blurred lines like “aww you’re tho tawsty”. Doe can make you finish in minutes, but he won’t stop after that, he will keep devouring your cum and there is nothing you can do about it. Also, his tongue.
The only way to stop this machine is to pull his head away by the hair, but he still keeps smiling at you, his gaze is thirsty, his lips are wet.
P = Pace
He is fast and mostly rough. Even if it started out gentle and slow, Doe breaks into a fast pace, fucking you into the mattress, clinging to your hips and waist so hard that bruises remain, quickly hitting his hips against your body.
Q = Quickie
Usually your sex is a quickie, Doe initiates it at least twice a day, in the morning and before going to bed. and only on lucky days can he persuade you for a third or fourth time in the middle of the day.
R = Risk
He would like to take any risk with you. Doe trusts you fully and he is excited to hear any of your ideas. He can sometimes offer something new, but usually his ideas are silly and don’t make any sense, like “let’s try to fuck upside down”
S = Stamina
Doe doesn’t last long, he comes really quickly, but he has his inhuman stamina and he will go for many rounds.
T = Toys
Doe doesn’t have any toys himself, but he will gladly buy you one as a christmas present once he finds up what it is.
U = Unfair
He is too impatient to tease you and make you (or himself) wait.
But Doe kinda likes to be teased, actually. He will gladly beg and cry for you, though he can’t go on like this for a long time.
V = Volume
He doesn’t moan or make loud sounds, more like something muffled. Doe can sob and whimper prettily for sure.
Whether it's a curse or compensation for his lack of moans, he chatters all the time. It can be quiet nonsense that he whispers in your ear or loud confessions of love, but he never shuts up.
Getting him a gag should be a good idea.
W = Wild card
Doe has a piss kink. It’s canonical and incredibly reasonable.
X = X-ray
Whatever. He is a shapeshifter and he is fucking interested, you discover different things every day in his pants.
He would use his ability to shapeshift to please you, make his dick the perfect size, his pussy extra tight and wet for you, or he would make something spicy like a tentacle between his legs.
Y = Yearning
Surprisingly, not so high I guess. I’m sorry for picturing Doe as a pervert teenager previously, it seems to me that he is a more sensual type, who prefers cuddling and kissing to actual sex.
Z = Zzz
Doe doesn’t need to sleep anyway. But he likes to feel your relaxed body in his arms, likes to hear your quiet breathing, to see how your chest falls and rises. It’s hard to fall asleep next to him, mostly because of his constant unblinking gaze and his clinginess, but the inhuman warmth of his body fully makes up for it.
Thanks for reading! I also write one shots according to your requests. Let me know if you want something more from me ;)
Also there is a link to this work on ao3, I'll be glad for your support.
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Malicious, Mean and Scary?
Joel Miller x Female Reader
So my friend and I were talking about Pedro the other day. I, naturally, was talking about how much I love him and my friend commented he was scary looking. And all I could picture was every ridiculous picture/gif of Pedro I have ever seen, and burst out laughing. And I felt that comment would fit Joel perfectly.
*I am aware the last picture is ~technically~ Frankie, but I needed a cutie patootie face.
Warnings: Smut (because I can and will any chance I get with this man)
“I think it’s time to go home.” You state as you walk into the stables.
“Agreed.” Diego nods, continuing to saddle up his horse.
“We takin’ supplies out today?” You nod to the very full saddle bags that are sat on the floor.
“Yep. One stop is the library, and another is the old ranch house in the valley.” He confirms, handing you your gear. You work side by side in silence, the gentle clinking of buckles melding with the chirps of the birds.
You and Diego have been friends for a while; he was a friend of a friend and you considered both of them little brothers. Tommy had mentioned that Diego was a good worker, but he and another guy were butting heads all the time. You volunteered to show Diego a few tricks of the trade to keep him in line; and now he’s your right hand for everything.
“Anyone around the help us when we get there?” You grunt as you swing your set of saddle bags onto your horse.
“Eugene and Dina are up at the Library; Ellie and Joel are at the ranch house.”
“Good, means I won’t have to carry everything in.” You laugh as you mount your horse. Doesn’t hurt to see the older Miller brother either…
“I guess.” Diego shrugs, mounting his own horse.
“What?” You frown at him. He always gets a bit funny around Joel, and only Joel.
“Nothin…” He waves you off and starts on the trail.
“Seriously?" You guide your horse closer so you can playfully kick his leg, "Do you have a problem with Joel?” He shakes his head but doesn't elaborate any further. You two quickly ride away from Jackson, your conversation ranging from old Marvel movies to which fast food places had the best fried chicken. That’s what was best about being on shift with Diego, conversations were long and random and somehow circled back on each other.
“He’s scary.” Diego confesses after a long silence.
“Well, duh. He’s not called Ivan the Terrible because he’s nice.”
“No!” Diego sighs. “Joel.”
“Joel?” You shout at him, a few birds startling out of the trees.
“Ya! You don’t think he’s scary?” Diego looks at you like you’re insane. Joel is tall, every inch covered in scars and his freakin arms look like they could snap a clicker in half.
You move your eyes forward, the image of Joel slipping on a patch of ice as he tried to show you how to line dance flashing through your head.
“We’re talking about Joel Miller? Tommy’s brother?” You turn to him, baffled.
“Yes!” He shouts, bending in half so that his forehead is resting against the back of his horse's neck.
“That man is just a sweet baby-”
“No no! You call me a sweet baby angel, because I literally look like a five year old with a beard (Y/N)!” He laughs, shaking his head.
“That’s fair." You concede, reflecting on his words for a brief moment, "But he’s not scary!” You poke his shoulder.
“He totally is.” Diego grumbles as the two of you ride up to the ranch house. You both hop off your horses, tying them to the post out front.
“Well you two are early.” Ellie smiles, hopping down the porch to grab a supply bag.
“If you’re on time you’re late.” You laugh, trying to unhook one of the supply bags from your horse.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Joel rumbles behind you, his hands unhooking the bag with ease.
“Thanks.” You whisper, looking up at him. He's shaved since you last saw him, the beard nice and neat.
“Anytime darlin’.” He gives you a small smile before turning to go back into the house.
“You guys staying the night?” Ellie yells from inside.
“Yes.” Diego answers as the two of you clamor inside.
“Maybe you and Ellie can take the area patrol. Give us old folk a break.” You wink at Diego, who, much to your delight, turns red.
“You ain’t old.” Joel and Ellie say in unison.
“Aww thanks." You wave the two of them off playfully, "But seriously my body could use the break.” You start unloading the bags and stocking the cabinets.
“Let’s see if we can get a deer for dinner?” Ellie shrugs at Diego.
“Cool.” He nods, following after her. You wait a few moments, listening to them chat as they gear up. Once the door clicks you spin to face Joel.
“Can I tell you somethin’?”
“Don’t think I could stop you.” He chuckles.
“You can never tell him I told you, but Diego thinks you're scary.” You giggle, taking a bag of rice from his hands.
"You don't?”
You turn to him, making sure he’s serious.
“No I don’t.” You state, taking a step closer to him. He gives you a short hmph as he squares up to you.
You can feel your heart rattle around in your chest as the fantasies you keep tucked way back in your head start bouncing around. Without looking away you grab the edges of his jacket and pull him down to you. Your lips mash against his, the warmth of his mouth, his scent, overwhelming; the need to have all of him hits you like a freight train. Your mouth slides against his; tongue soothing the seam of his chapped lips. You heart skips a beat when his mouth opens, tongue eagerly meeting yours in a heated battle.
Your hands roam over his chest, his stomach, anywhere you can reach until your fingers catch on a button. They sporadically undo each one until your grubby little hands have what they want: the heat of his skin flush against them.
Your hands continue to roam: his sides, on his chest, tracing the scars along his stomach. Your fingers leave trails of blazing hot fire as your tongue dances with his. He’s kissed his fair share of women, but this is different; this is pure indulgence; for you or himself he couldn’t tell; but all he wanted was more.
And then it’s gone, replaced with a quiet I’m sorry falling from your swollen mouth. Your fingers now fiddle with the hem of your own flannel instead of lighting his skin ablaze.
“Don’t stop.” He whispers. Hands twitching at his sides, not sure if he should reach for you or let you come to him. This was your game after all. Your eyes finally look up at him, searching for reassurance that you weren’t out of bounds. He gently loops his fingers through your belt loops, pulling you back to him. He takes each of your hands in turn, setting them back to where they were, and he feels instantly on fire.
His mouth mashes into yours, tongue splitting your lips open. You hands hook under the shoulders of his shirt, pushing everything off. Your palms run along his biceps, finger kneading the muscles as they flex. He pushes you against the counter, dragging you onto it so he can slot himself between your legs. As much as he revels in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth he breaks away to absorb the heat of your skin, his mouth eagerly exploring every inch from your jaw to your collar bones as his hands roam along your back.
Your head tilts back, sharp gasps pushing past your lips as his move down your neck, mixed with his teeth lightly grazing your skin, tongue soothing any pain. When he reaches your chest a growl deep from within his own surfaces, his hands scrambling to get your shirt out of the way. The moment your tits bounce free he takes a nipple into his mouth, your moan more sinful than a hooker in church. He pays the other equal attention, your subtle grinding of your hips not lost on him.
You can feel how hard he is as you grind against him. You can imagine how perfect he is, how good he feels, how good he tastes. You cup his cheek, pulling him off your tit and bringing his mouth back to yours. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, grinding so long and hard that he freezes, a deep groan vibrating in his chest.
You quickly unbutton his jeans, shoving them down his ass. He finally breaks out of the trance and shoves them to his knees, cock springing free. He reaches for the button of your shorts, both of you trying to slide them off as fast as possible. Before they can even hit the floor you're helping him line up with your entrance. With one swift motion his cock slides right into your cunt.
Your moan’s hang between you, breathes fanning each other’s chests as your brains catch up with your bodies. You bring his mouth back to yours, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other under his arm, bracing for the storm he’s about to unleash. You scoot to the edge, the small movement snapping both of you back. Joel grinds his hips in you, slowly building each thrust until he slides in and out of you with ease. The mix of panting, moans and fucks send both of you into overdrive. Your fingers digging and scraping at his back. His own fists full of your ass or your thighs as his hips drill into you.
“Joel- so close.” You murmur.
“Me too.” He grunts as your walls flutter around him, Your body goes stiff, the moan rattling deep within your chest. He quickly pulls out as your body convulses in the aftershock of your orgasm, cuming on the inside of your thigh. You lean into him, panting into his shoulder as you try to calm yourself.
Joel reaches for a towel, cleaning you and himself. He throws it on the floor and slots his hips between your thighs, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You whisper. Joel can hear the smile in your voice.
“Never thought you would want to do that with a scary old man.” He chuckles, kissing your collar bone.
“That mean we get to go again?”
#joel miller x plus size reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller smut#tlou#tlou smut
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I've been debating on whether I wanna share this or not for a while now, but here it is! Some scribble scrabbles about how Casther’s bodytype changes over the years + some notes on why they change. Why? Because thinking about different body types is fun and it’s normal that bodies change over the years!!
Freshly at Briggs (21+)
Menace to society (24+)
I have the idea that Casther only ate crap food when he was on his own, which is why he grew slower and was much shorter! (1,76m and later 1,89m) Because of that he’s also quite lean (maybe not as much as in the sketch tho) and his build more for speed and flexibility rather than strength. He has some muscle and isn’t weak, but there’s not much body fat.
Dad era I (26+)
As Casther came to Briggs, he started eating properly and thus grew quite a lot more (men can keep growing until 24, this is a thing). With his life at Briggs, he also gets more exercise and thus builds up more and more strength. Btw he always was able to grow body hair, bit he shared for years. Every god damn day!! Every god damn day!! It has to do with chimera stuff and him still being overly anxious about it. Also yes when I write „slut era“ I mean it. Casther is a huge flirt and probably broke some hearts during that time. During those years he starts getting close to Val and they slowly end up in a situationship. Status: It’s complicated.
After the incident (30)
He stopped shaving!! It’s a really a big step for him and he ends up really liking and embracing his body hair. God for him!! He’s very strong at that time, but has a rather low percentage of body fat. There’s no big reason for it except that he’s quite focused on his appearance. Dude is training to get strong but also to impress other dudes (still brraking hearts at that point). Seriously, Casther can be a big show-off. Thea comes into his care and kinda is one reason why he gave up shaving. Being a dad with a full time job is stressful, there’s no time to shave! During that time Casther and Val still have a situationship that got only weirder since they now both care for Thea. They defined have feeling for each other’s, they’re just not aware how deep they go and they both don’t act on them for various reasons.
Recovery (31)
When Casther loses his arm and isn’t on duty anymore, he quickly loses his definition and strength. His mental health never wasn't the best, after all he went through a lot if traumatic events that left deep scars. Up until that point, he always pushed things down and acted as if he was ok. But he always struggled. With his arm gone things change a lot and a lot of his mental struggles come back up. In the end, he falls into a heavy depressive episode. He doesn’t know how to deal with any of his problems and in the end him and Val grow apart immensely. It’s all very messy, but it all has a reason.
1) Casther doesn’t get an automail and magically gets better! -> Him losing his arm was the catalyst of falling into this severe depression, but it’s not the only reason! He gets his automail only after he gets better mentally. Even IF he had gotten the automail earlier, he would’ve been horrible! I need to make this clear because I think it would be very problematic if this would be linked so closely.
Val comes back to Briggs. With Val’s and the other’s help, Casther is able to recover mentally. The journey is long and hard, but he gets to a better place eventually. His goal is to regain some of the strength he once had, so he works out to feel better and to support his mental health. Things with Val are complicated, I'd love to show some snippets so that's all the info you get for now.
Captain (32+)
After putting a lot of effort into his mental health, he's able to recover quite a lot! He still struggles of course, but he's at a much better place and knows how do properly deal with things. Also he finally gets his automail and is able to go back into duty after an absence of two years. Even tho he came a long way, he still struggles from time to time and isn't at 100% for a period of time. But eventually he comes out of all this much more stronger.
Also: This is the time period where Casther and Val ACTUALLY get together. A full on relationship where they talk openly about their feelings, please be proud of them. (Side note: If I draw them cuddling or smooching, look out for Casther's automail. If it's not there, they’re still idiots who have attachment issues. If there is an automail, look away or else you'll disturb the boyfriends!!)
Because this is a sensitive topic and I'd hate someone to misunderstand it, I'd like to make things clear:
Captain (31+)
2)
A quick extra note because I'd really hate if ppl misunderstand it: Casther doesn't get depressed because he lost his arm. Yes, there is a hit of internalized ableism going on, but it's not the cause. It's the whole event that throws him into the demons he always carried with him. Therefore, Casther doesn't get magically better once he gets an automail. If he had gotten the automail right after the accident, he still would've been miserable.
Thanks for reading!
There are many factors why he falls into such a deep hole (and Val leaving for a couple of months sadly is one of them). He works through them bit by bit and THEN gets an automail. But his disability is not the reason for his struggles and "curing" his disability with the automail doesn't solve all of his problems. I've seen things like this with other characters and I'd hate if ppl would think this is the case here as well.
Also: This is no “he lost weight and feels so much better :)” story because I fckng HATE that. Casther loses weight eventually, but only bit by bit and also UNINTENTIONALLY. His focus was to get fit again, so he can fight again. Plus working out just is a thing he enjoys. Does he feel uncomfortable because he gained weight? Yes. But he learns to embrace it.
I never shared art of plus size Casther before because I simply wasn't happy with the way I drew the body fat. But I've practiced a lot and drawing Casther with a dad bod is very therapeutic for me ;w;<3 so maybe I'll share dad bod Casther more from time to time because he's very dear to me
#rip to anyone who can't read my handwriting I'm sorry I'm too lazy to type it#love looking at different body types and I'd love to draw them better#also i love dad bod Casther he means so much to me#i know I put him through a lot but it all has a reason and it helps me to deal with some things
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Squid game fics, Gi-hun x f!Reader and Sangwoo x F!Reader, MDNI
Gi-hun x reader: (He doesn't have red hair and he's still shabby sad dad from the beginning, I was obsessed with that vibe.)
You needed money. Just enough to pay off student debt, that's all. You were pretty enough to be accepted by an escort service, your prices were.. Expensive to say the least, it would be easy to pay off your shit and get out. But as you sat on the hotel bed waiting for your first ever client to show up, you wanted nothing more than to just run. You could just get a part-time job, anywhere, what if he was abusive or ugly or-
The door opened, the man in charge of standing in front of it and keeping you safe (essentially, your pimp,) letting the client in. He looked more shy and nervous than you were.
He must have money, if he could afford you, but he was dressed like an absolute slob. He took his hat off, holding it and bowing as if he was entering your home.
He was younger than you imagined, or maybe older, you weren't really sure what you had been picturing. He certainly wasn't ugly though, and you wondered why he didn't have a wife, or maybe he did..
"Miss uh-, y/n?" he asked as he walked towards you apprehensively.
"Yes." you said, smiling, trying your best to look flirtatious.
"I'm Seong Gi-hun." he said, smiling as well. His smile was so sincere and silly it made you laugh, which only seemed to embarrass him more.
"I'm not laughing at you, just, you have a sweet smile. You seem really.. earnest. I'm relieved." you admitted. He came and sat beside you on the bed, but made no move to touch you.
"How much time did you pay for?" you asked.
"Four hours." he said, looking down at his hands.
"Four hours?" you replied in surprise, he didn't look like much of a millionaire..
"Well.. I'm sure we can have sex for that long, but you are my first client, so I apologize if I-"
"Ahh no, no, no! I don't want to have sex for four hours!" he exclaimed.
"Uh, a film I like- It's a Western, my daughter is too young to see it, it's too violent- oh I'm not married don't think I'm cheating on my wife, I'm divorced, uh I haven't seen this in a long time, I wanted to watch it, it's not four hours long but uh-" he was rambling, speaking to the DVD in his hands and avoiding looking at you.
It seemed like he just wanted someone to spend time with, and was willing to spend a huge amount of money to do so.
"You don't want to just find a girlfriend? You really wanna pay so much for nothing?" you asked, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He stared down at your hand for a long moment.
"I haven't even been touched like this, by anyone, in years." he said.
"It's not nothing. I just want. Company. Physical contact, I don't know. I saw your picture online and, I thought.. For a beautiful woman to spend time with me, maybe pretend I don't annoy her. That'd be worth the price." he grinned again and you brought your hand from his shoulder to his cheek, brushing your thumb over a scar there. His smile faded and he couldn't seem to look you in the eye now.
"Do you want a kiss?" you asked quietly, leaning closer to him.
"You smell really good." he said.
"I mean- Yeah, if it's okay."
You smiled as you kissed him. He smelled like shaving cream, and he kissed you back so shyly and gently it was as if it were his first kiss.
The film was old, a grainy American film about cowboys or.. Something. It was violent, not exactly your thing, but Gi-hun seemed to enjoy the story, even if you had difficulty keeping up with it.
"Oh man, I haven't seen this since before-" he stopped speaking abruptly, swallowing hard.
"Gi-hun?" you asked, but it seemed like he couldn't hear you. He was staring so intensely at the television, gritting his teeth and he had begun to sweat profusely. You sat up, putting a hand on his shoulder again, which made him jump to his feet.
He looked at you so wildly, like he wasn't sure where he was, like he was afraid of you or didn't recognize you suddenly. You stood up, wondering if you should call for help.
"Gi-hun. Are you alright?" you asked, wringing your hands nervously.
"Yes, I'm so sorry, this was a bad idea, I'm sorry." he bowed deeply and turned like he was going to leave, without his hat or his DVD.
"Gi-hun wait!" you said, grabbing his hand to stop him from leaving.
"You seem.. Anxious. Do you wanna shower together? That always helps me calm down.." you suggested. He paid for four hours, and was about to leave after one and a half.
He didn't protest, but he didn't accept either. He let you lead him to the bathroom silently.
It seemed your boss didn't fuck around when it came to the hotel rooms you were to see clients in. The bathroom was huge with both a large bath tub and a large shower separately.
"Oh.. Do you wanna take a shower or a bath?" you asked. Gi-hun was looking down at his feet. He raised his eyes slowly, looking from the shower to the bath tub.
"Bath." he said quietly.
You nodded and knelt before the tub, plugging the drain and starting the water before looking through the various bottles of different types of bubble bath that lined the tub. You wanted to ask him what kind of scent he would enjoy most, but he didn't seem much in the mood for talking. You chose mint, it seemed neutral enough. While the tub filled up and the bubbles began to froth you slid out of the dress you were wearing, you didn't have anything on underneath. Gi-hun looked away, it seemed he wanted to afford you privacy even though you were about to bathe together.
"You need to undress." you said. Gi-hun nodded diligently, but paused with his hands on the hem of his shirt. You helped him, removing his shirt for him before unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them as well.
"Ah- uh- I'll do it." he said, turning away from you as he removed the last of his clothes. The tub was full by now and you turned off the water, sinking into it and sighing with relief as the warmth overtook you. Gi-hun followed, and it seemed the warmth helped him relax a bit. He hugged his knees to his chest, looking down at the foamy water in silence.
"You okay?" you asked.
"Yes. I.. See a doctor, these days. Well I have. PTSD I guess. I'm sorry about it, I didn't mean to be.. Annoying, I don't know." He said. He covered his face with his hands, trying to sob as silently as possible.
"Here, come over here." you said, taking his shoulders in your hands and helping him turn around so his back was to you. You wrapped your arms around him, laying your head against his back. You hummed softly while he cried, song after song, as long as it took.
By the time he finished crying the water wasn't warm anymore.
"Come on, let's get you dried off." you said, standing and stepping out of the bath. Gi-hun followed, his cheeks, nose and eyes very red.
You helped him dry off and dried yourself before going back into the bedroom and laying down on the bed.
"Do you wanna snuggle for a bit?" you asked. Gi-hun nodded, wiping his face on his hands and sniffling as he got into bed with you. He snuggled up against your soft breasts, sighing as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You stroked his hair and held him, finding that your bodies seemed to fit together perfectly.
You didn't remember falling asleep, but your pimp knocking on the door woke you up. It had been four hours. Gi-hun was asleep, drooling against your breasts and snoring softly. You didn't want to wake him, and you didn't want to have to say goodbye to him already.
"Gi-hun." you whispered, shaking him a little.
"Mm?" he said without opening his eyes. He nuzzled against your chest further, and minutes later he was snoring again.
"Gi-hun!" you said louder, shaking him until he opened his eyes.
"Ah- Is it time?" he asked. You nodded.
"How long do you have to work? Do you have to see anyone else today?"
"I think you more than filled my quote for the day.."
Your pimp opened the door and poked his head in.
"It's time." he said.
"I'd like another four hours please!" Gi-hun shouted to him. He absolutely was not going to turn down that amount of money and simply bowed, shutting the door again.
"Are you mad? That's so much money.." you said in surprise. Gi-hun simply smiled.
"I don't want to say goodbye yet." he said. His eyes traveled down, from your face to your breasts. He reached out to grab one, but his hand nervously hovered over it. You took his hand and pressed it against your chest. He inhaled sharply, experimentally kneading it. You relaxed, laying down as he climbed over you, taking both of your breasts in his hands and squeezing them. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it gently. You tangled your fingers into his hair, arching your back involuntarily as he continued massaging your breast with one of his hands, the other he brought between your legs, rubbing soft circles around your clit.
You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensation as he alternated breasts, wrapping his lips around your other nipple. He was better with his fingers than you had anticipated, in fact you didn't expect at all that any of your clients would make you cum, but here you were, curling your toes and clinging to him tightly as you climaxed, trembling in his arms. When you opened your eyes he was staring at your face, his eyes partially lidded as he pushed two of his fingers into you. You gasped and spread your legs wider for him as he curled them against your g-spot.
"Does it feel good?" he asked breathlessly and you nodded, taking his face in your hands and kissing him affectionately. He kissed you back, needily, desperately and he suddenly flipped over so he was laying on his back and you were over him.
"I want you to ride me. If- That's okay." he said. You smiled and kissed him again before straddling his waist and aligning his cock with your entrance. He bit his lip as you lowered yourself onto him, moaning as his thick cock stretched you out. You tilted your head back as he grabbed your waist, your hips, ran his hands up and down your thighs and over your breasts. It seemed he didn't know where he wanted to put his hands, he wanted to touch you everywhere. You bounced up and down on his cock quickly, eager to make him cum. You remembered, you were supposed to insist he wore a condom, but he was so.. Sad, desperate to be touched and sincere, you wanted him to be more than just a client. You could hardly keep your thoughts together though as the feeling of him filling you up overwhelmed you. His eyes were fixated on your bouncing breasts, hands on your ass as you rode him. You put your hands on his chest, your cunt clenching even tighter around him making him groan loudly.
"Ahh- Baby, I'm- gonna cum-" he said, grabbing your hips and forcing you up and down on him, thrusting his hips up to meet you each time until he came. He sat up, embracing you tightly, holding you close until he finished. He laid back down, sighing with exhaustion, but smiling. You laid down, resting your head on his chest and he stroked your hair.
"Gi-hun, I want to see you again." you admitted.
"Why did you become an escort? What do you need money for?" he asked.
"Student loans." you admitted.
"What if.. I just paid them? Then.. Do you think we could see each other? I don't think I want to share you.." he suggested.
You smiled at him and took his hands, interlocking your fingers together.
"If that's okay." you replied.
Sang-woo x Reader:
"Now what."
A question Sang-woo kept repeating in his mind.
He won the game. He righted his wrongs (At least, the ones that could be righted.) He paid his mother's bills and bought her a house and then he moved, far away from Seoul. He bought himself an apartment, despite how easily he could've afforded to live a life of complete luxury, he found some strange comfort in living among other people, trying to cling to some semblance of normalcy.
He jogged every morning, he bought a cat, and he put himself in therapy intended for veterans. The only way he could cope with his PTSD or discuss his feelings was under the guise that it had all happened in some distant, hard fought war. Perhaps, in a way it had. The monotony of his routine brought him comfort for years, until one particular morning.
It was raining, and he had chosen to go out jogging regardless, the thought of missing any step of his routine made him too anxious to tolerate, and so he ran, regardless of how the rain clung to his glasses and obscured his vision. He paused briefly to wipe them on his sleeve, and when he put them back on he noticed a couple just up the path from him, huddled together beneath an umbrella.
He wasn't sure why he didn't just continue running right passed them, why he just stood there and watched. The way they smiled at each other, laughed together, held each other and kissed..
He wanted that. Desperately, more than anything.
That night he cleaned himself up, putting on a suit for the first time in years.
Where did people go to meet their future wives these days..
He found himself in a karaoke bar, drunk.
Two women had found themselves attracted to the grade of alcohol he could afford and had attached themselves to his sides, eager to fetch his shots, light his cigarettes for him, and however enticing they were (Considering he hadn't slept with anyone since college), they didn't give him that feeling he had looking at that couple in the rain.
"You can blame me, try to shame me
And still I'll care for you.."
The voice was so sweet, whoever had taken their turn at karaoke seemed like a siren, singing a lullaby to put all these drunkards to sleep.
"You can run me around, even put me down,
Still, I'll be there for you."
Sang-woo raised his sleepy eyes to the stage, getting a good look at the woman singing. She was an immigrant, skin the color of coffee with too much cream, long black hair and wide brown eyes.
"The world may think I'm foolish, they can't see you like I can."
She made eye contact with him then, and his cigarette nearly fell from his lips as she smiled at him.
"Oh but anyone, who knows what love is
Will understand."
She took a bow when she finished and he clapped, perhaps a bit overzealously. He freed himself from the pawing hands of the women sitting with him and approached her.
"That was a beautiful song. You have a beautiful voice." he said, wondering if he had the same charming aura to her that he seemed to have to other women.
"Thank you so much sir." she said, smiling brightly at him.
"Please, don't call me that. I'm Sang-woo. What's your name?" he asked, offering her a cigarette.
"Mina." she said, putting the cigarette in her mouth. He lit it for her, admiring her chest as she leaned towards him.
"How old are you, Mina?" he asked.
"Twenty-six, may I ask why?" she tilted her head, blowing smoke out of her nose.
"I'm unmarried. I came here looking for someone to take home with me. I thought I would be disappointed, but you.." he struggled with his words. He didn't know how to be romantic or enticing on purpose, it seemed his clothes or his looks or his cologne did it for him. He wanted to just cut straight to the point, just ask her to fuck him and marry him outright, but he didn't want to scare her away.
"You're asking me out?" she asked coyly.
"Yes. I suppose I am." he replied. He wished his intonation changed, no matter how shy he felt, or excited, he always seemed so severe.
This didn't seem to scare Mina off, and she agreed to go home with him.
Sang-woo was more drunk than he realized, leaning on Mina as they stumbled out of the karaoke bar. He had no idea what time it was and the world around him was a blur of neon lights as Mina hailed a cab for them. She helped him into it and sat beside him, placing her hand on his thigh. He reached down and took her hand, wanting at first to instinctively take it off of him, but she curled her fingers around his and he allowed her to hold his hand, eventually holding hers in return.
"You're handsome, and you seem to have money. Why haven't you found a wife before now?" she asked. Sang-woo was quiet for a long time, and Mina thought he was ignoring her.
"I'm a veteran. I was overseas, in the war. I have PTSD now. I haven't had much time to think about dating, I've been focusing on.." he trailed off. He didn't know why he was being so honest with her, even if in reality he was being dishonest.
"I'm sorry.." she said, squeezing his hand.
"I haven't had an easy life either. My parents are long dead, it's just me. I go to that bar every Friday to sing, but other than that my life is pretty boring. This is the most exciting thing to happen to me in years." she said, smiling kindly at him.
Sang-woo had received many smiles in the past few years. Sympathetic, piteous smiles from doctors, polite smiles from neighbors, but a real, sincere smile just for him, made him finally smile in turn. Though it was probably just the alcohol..
She helped him into his apartment, ordinarily he would've felt embarrassed about needing to lean on someone and rely on their help like this, especially a woman, but being so close to her was giving him the same relief in his heart he felt after therapy.
"I don't think you're in a state to be intimate right now." she said, helping him plop down on the couch.
"Should I give you money for a cab home?" he asked, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.
"Nah, I'll stay over anyway if you'd like." she said, sitting down beside him.
"Do you think you could sing another song?" he asked quietly.
Mina smiled and scooted closer to him on the couch, coaxing him to lean on her. She took his hand and began to sing, and eventually he fell asleep. She took his glasses off, setting them on the arm of the couch and gently laying him down. She began to explore his apartment trying to find a blanket to lay over him and a place for herself to sleep. She entered his bedroom, gathering up the blanket in her arms when she accidentally bumped into his side table, knocking over a journal and two bottles of pills.
"Shit, shit.." she swore under her breath as she flicked the lamp on and gathered everything up. The medications were antidepressants and anxiolytics, she knew because she herself took very similar medications. She supposed lots of people had to take meds like this these days. The journal however was odd.
"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
Written over and over, page after page, sometimes completely illegible some pages blurred from liquid splattering on them. She gently set the things back on the table and brought the blanket out to him, gently laying it over his sleeping body before going and curling up in his empty bed.
When she woke up, she was surprised that he was in bed with her. His arms were wrapped around her tightly and his blanket was over them both. She rolled over to face him and he slowly opened his eyes.
"Sorry. I can go back to the couch if you'd like. I get lonely at night, sometimes." he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"It's alright, I get lonely at night too." she said, cupping his cheek gently.
"I feel like shit. I'm too old to drink like that." he groaned.
Mina smiled and leaned towards him, kissing his forehead.
"Do you wanna get coffee together?"
That was their first date, hungover and squinting in the sunlight as they made their way to a café near his apartment. It was a memory Mina held dear, now four months later when she had moved in with him. It was a strange relationship, they slept in the same bed, they kissed briefly, but they hadn't been intimate. Anytime Sang-woo seemed like he was about to touch her, he stopped. They never discussed it. It was more like they were roommates, and Mina wanted more. Sang-woo had gone out jogging and while he was gone she quickly went through a bag she'd been hiding in their closet, procuring scented candles and lighting them around the room. She took her clothes off, brushed her hair, covered herself in rose scented lotion and then sat on the bed, waiting for him to return.
When he came back, the dim glow from the bedroom startled him. He entered slowly, inhaling sharply at the sight of Mina naked. He had never actually seen her nude before, he always found some way to avert his eyes, trying to keep his desires for her under control.
"Sang-woo, come here." she said, reaching out to him. He approached her, taking her hands and squeezing them.
"I want you to tell me why we haven't been intimate yet, is it that you don't like me? Did I do something wrong?" she asked. He knelt in front of her, bringing her hands to his cheeks.
"No. You've done nothing wrong. And, I adore you." he said.
"I feel.. Strange, putting my hands on you. Even, just wanting to do so, because." he swallowed audibly, averting his eyes from hers.
"I.. Never spoke much about, the war. I have.."
Mina recognized his glassy expression, clenching his jaw as his breath quickened. She had seen him through many PTSD episodes before. She stroked his cheeks and moved closer to him, pressing his head against her breasts and wrapping his arms around her.
"I have so much blood on my hands, and when I think about touching you, I feel like I will just. Soil you." his voice cracked as he spoke.
Sang-woo always cried silently, but his shoulders trembled. His hands did too as he gripped Mina's shoulders, holding onto her as if his life depended on it.
"Whatever happened back then, it doesn't make you.. Bad, you won't soil me." she said, taking his hands in hers and examining them
"Your hands don't have blood on them.." she said as she traced her fingertips along the lines of his palms.
"Lines of life, and love, like any other person, the hands of a hardworking and good man." she said. She placed his hands on her breasts, trying to encourage him to touch her.
Sang-woo focused on her chest, finally letting himself take in the sight of her. He kneaded her breasts between his large hands, focusing on the sensation of how soft she felt, how good she smelled, using her to take him out of his thoughts and focus on the present.
"Can you take this off?" she asked, tugging on his jacket. He nodded and stood, removing his jacket and the tank top he was wearing under it. Mina scooted back on the back, further and further until she was laying down against the pillows, and Sang-woo crawled over her. With his legs on either side of hers he leaned down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then her neck, licking and sucking it as his hands continued massaging her breasts.
"Sang-woo.." she sighed and he felt something ignite in his heart and loins. He scrambled out of his pants and underwear and embraced her roughly, digging his blunt nails into her skin and kissing her deeply.
"Do I really deserve this? To be allowed to touch you.." he asked breathlessly. Mina smiled at him and nodded, spreading her legs for him.
"You deserve to love, and be loved. Everyone does. No matter what happened in the past." she said, stroking his cheeks. Sang-woo held her thighs apart as he kissed her, she found the weight of his body on hers deeply comforting as she felt his erection rub against her slick folds. He grabbed her jaw roughly, forcing her to kiss him as he took his cock in his other hand and pressed it against her entrance.
"Say you love me." he said, the intensity of his gaze boring into her.
"I love you, Sang-woo."
He bottomed out in one thrust, filling her completely. They groaned in unison and he pressed his forehead against hers, hooking her legs under his arms.
"Fuck-" he sighed, immediately fucking her at a ruthless pace.
"S-Sang-woo!!" she cried, arching her back and gripping him tightly as he fucked her like he was punishing her.
"I've wanted this for so long, you're so tight and warm.." he tangled his fingers into her hair.
"Soft, so good to me.." his breathing was ragged as he began licking and sucking her neck hard enough to leave marks.
"I-I've wanted this just as long." she struggled to form words, her eyes rolling back as she felt herself climaxing, her walls clenching and fluttering around his cock.
"Yes my darling that's it, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fill you up, my love.." he was rambling breathlessly against her ear, his thrusts becoming quick and short as he chased his release.
"Cum inside me, please Sang-woo-" she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes as Sang-woo came, moaning desperately as he filled her completely, cum and slick leaking out of her and staining the bed beneath them. He stayed still for a long time, still inside her, nuzzling against her neck and placing gentle kisses against the bruises there.
"I love you." she said quietly and she felt him smile against her neck.
"I love you too."
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RP Muse: Gerard Keay
Gerry I think was the first muse I actually picked up for TMA. Kinda hard to resist, and I'm pretty sure I tracked down all the episodes with him in it to try and develop something that felt firm enough to write out, when I first got started. He's a bit different from the 'canon' timeline, but I've found I really enjoy the direction I put him in so I can play either 'canon' Gerry or my divergent line.
Gerard Keay is a tall man who looks a bit younger than he is. He generally keeps clean-shaven, though there are days where he decides he doesn't care and foregoes the morning shave. He wears a fair amount of eyeliner and black lipstick, has snakebite piercings and a septum ring, as well as a number of piercings along his ears. Born a strawberry blond, he does his best to dye it all black and most often ends up with his roots showing and a couple of blotches of hair not quite dyed well enough. He'll usually get to it when it starts to fade more, because it looks absolutely awful.
Gerry's body is covered in burn scars, not only taking away some sensations of hot/cold/touch, but also making him generally keep his skin covered up. The only parts of him that aren't burnt are his head, from mid-neck up, and small areas around his tattoos. His ink are all eyes at every joint along his body, from fingers to spine to jaw, and vary in size to suit them. The ones at his jaw are usually fairly covered by his hair, but his hands and a singular eye above his hyoid at his throat are the ones most seen by others.
With his makeup, Gerry wears a lot of metal and grunge band shirts, as well as a lot of black clothing in general. He also tends to keep a black trench coat on, covering up his arms and giving him some measure of protection from the weather when he's out skulking about and avoiding going home as best he can. It has enough pockets to tuck away a lighter and a pack of smokes, maybe a book, as well as his phone and keys so it's convenient to have with him whether he has pants pockets for the day or not.
That being said, Gerard has found a couple of his dad's old shirts and things his Mother doesn't seem to care much for, and has taken them into his collection. This includes some bright button-up shirts, of which may be some of the only colourful clothing items he owns and willingly will wear sparingly. If anything, it seems to startle people to spot him out and about, resting bitch face active, with a bright green shirt that has flamingos printed all over it.
Home life is where there's more divergence. This iteration of Gerard did not have as much help from Gertrude in the beginning, and instead of bringing her the book to handle the pages of Mary Keay, he burnt down Pinhole Books after packing his bags. After learning so much from his mother in the past, he managed to set it up as an electrical fire and was not only able to get the insurance off of the building, but he sold the lot and bought himself a flat to live in by himself. It's still pretty empty, but he painted a lot of walls black and put up music posters, and his neighbors get too intimidated to tell him to turn his music down when he's home and trying to relax.
Having been burning books in the past, to avoid Mary getting her hands on them, Gerry is very attuned to fire. He is also very attuned to anger, hurt, loss... so the burning of Pinhole Books has bumped him in a fairly solid direction of Desolation. A direction of which Gertrude has stepped in to try and get him off of, but it's even more difficult now that Gerry has to figure out what he is going to do with himself now that Mary is gone. While he helps Gertrude out and hunts down more Leitners to burn, he also finds himself contemplating on the things he could have had verses what Mary gave him. A lot of it just makes him angry, and over time the urge to burn precious things belonging to other people, things he could never have growing up, has risen to some uncomfortable levels.
So Gerry's not full Desolation, yet, but he is definitely on that path. The Eye is still watching him, as well, because he still strives for information and knowledge, just the way Mary raised him to. He just never wanted to be her little Prince to some Book Kingdom, and works to do what he can for himself when he knows what to do. Being raised by Mary without Eric being around has left him lacking in some 'normal' social skills and otherwise, but he can take care of himself. For the most part.
All of this is, of course, before Gerry goes to America with Gertrude and could be considered very early in his 'free from Mary' arc of his life. If he goes Desolation... it would get rid of the migraines and bloody noses that show up more often than is normal. If not, he probably should really, Really see a doctor sooner rather than later. I know canonically it kind-of hit him out of the blue, but I also imagine there were probably warnings that he and Gertrude ignored until it was too late.
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Something to tie you over!
- whenever bored games get played with Vinnie around he never understands how to play even the simplest games out there BUT somehow every great while he wins out of pure luck it drives Russell (mr follows the rules crazy)
- Vinnie always looks good in photos even if he doesn’t know a picture is being taken he could have just woken up looks good he could be talking looks perfect sleeping looks adorable Zoe can’t figure out how he does it she says she has never seen a bad photo of him ever
- he LOVES pancakes idk why it’s just something I always see him enjoying they are soft,fluffy and sweet and his all time favorite thing he craves besides mangos he gets so excited and does a little happy dance in his seat when the pancakes are sat in front of him he has to have a limit though because he’ll keep eating till he pukes
- I feel like he would be able to touch his tongue to his nose and show it off whenever asked if he has and “special skills”
- he would have tattoos but they would each have meaning to him each and every one so if asked he could talk about them with pride!
- he copy’s anyone he’s around just out of habit or maybe because he wants to fit in or mimic his friends let me explain- for example in the episode where Mrs twombly was doing the DNA test and Sunil was mad Vinnie started to copy him by crossing his arms too after seeing Sunil do it- I feel like he would copy his friends because doesn’t understand what’s going on in general but others do so coping them is what works best if that makes sense
- whenever he’s really upset Sunil is the only person Vinnie will open up to because he’s the only one who knows how to since they are so close and he knows him so well it’s like second nature to know what Vinnie needs something everyone else can’t do for him
- he zones out so often that he’s missed parts of conversations and while watching tv so he gets lost at what’s happening with a lot of things it’s also something he does when he gets bored or wants to not listen to someone on purpose he’s gotten to good at doing it though and doesn’t realize how often he starts to do it a habit he’s trying to break because he’s tired of the lectures from others about paying more attention to things
- he hasn’t found a wine he’s liked yet but is still willing to keep trying different ones! beer though and hard liquors are alright he is more of a soda guy after all lol
- I have to add this in here because it makes me happy if Vinnie met Russell in another universe (the little hedgehog version)he’d immediately fall in love and hold him and repeat the words “baby rusty” “baby rusty” “baby rusty” over and over he’d feed him snacks and stop anyone else from taking him from his grip because he wants to be with him (according to Vinnie)so they’d have to eventually take him and give him back to Blythe while Vinnie tries to scream and take him back from her
- if you send Vinnie on a mission for something he’ll do whatever it takes to complete it because he’s determined until he gets distracted and he forgets what it was he was doing R: “Vinnie,where are you?” “I sent you to the store an hour ago” V: “oh yeah! Now I remember I was getting milk!” “Im at the mall!” R: “……”
- I feel like he would just have so many random facts in his head and they are super random so it’s anyone’s guess as to what he really knows and when it’s going to come out of his mouth
- he’s a piker and not in the way you’d think lol he sees a pimple it must be gone he’s got a healing wound from falling it must be gone a stray hair nope can’t be there Zoe tell me him that what he does will leave scars and that sticks in the back of his mind but he can’t help it and does it anyway
- he gets so dirty so fast to the point that he has spare clothes at the ready Just in case because it happens so often paints with minka dirty, it rains he’s muddy, eats it’s all over for him
- I feel like he would sometimes shave his legs or armpits because he likes how soft he feels and tells everyone to feel him when he does it
- being scratched is almost as good as being cuddled especially on his back it’s his other form of comfort it’s the one of his ultimate forms of touch and he lives for it
- he doesn’t like being in wet clothes they stick to him and are super uncomfortable so he whines about it when it rarely happens like when pepper pushed him into a pool or when it rained super hard or when he fell at the beach in the water just walking to close to the water he hadn’t changed into his swimsuit and he freaked out about it
- he believes in lucky objects like if he finds a penny or a four leaf clover. he thinks he’ll have luck the whole rest of the day holding either one
- sunil’s parents ask about Vinnie during video calls with Sunil. They check up on him because they’ve gotten just as attached as Sunil has and treat him like a second son. Vinnie loves it though and blushes/smiles when they compliment him in anyway because parent approval is something Vinnie longs for so badly…
- ok last one for now-
- Vinnie doesn’t understand gossip when the girls talk about it. so they freely talk in front of him he gets so lost on who is who and they tell him not to worry about it. he’s tried to ask the other guys why girls do it but they had to break it to him that everyone does it and it’s mostly harmless. well safe to say he did try it himself and ended up accidentally telling madam Pom that Zoe waxes her mustache.. luckily madam Pom is a good friend and explained to him his wrong doing and how it works.They both agreed to keep what he had said a secret in exchange of Vinnie never trying to gossip again lol
Hopefully this amount is ok for now! Sorry if there are any errors or mistakes I was typing fast! let me know what you think! :)
As I said, I already replied to this multiple times in my head, but now it's time to actually, physically reply to it :>. And thank you so much for sending me this when I was in hospital, believe me it really helped to entertain me for a good while, as Mario says let's-a-go:
yes exactly, he sometimes wins by pure luck and without a bit of trying. And of course it drives Russell crazy the most, I mean he follows the rules, actually thinks of strategies, learns from previous mistakes, all that stuff, but then there's Vinnie, who does the exact opposite and still ends up winning sometimes lololo and Russell is just at wits' end
this one actually made me verbally "awww", especially that sleeping part. Of course he looks adorable :3. And Zoe lmao, she's like Russell from the previous headcanon, because of course looking good in pictures is important to her and she tries her absolute best to look good in pictures and still sometimes deletes those pictures because "they're not good enough". And then there's Vinnie who gives absolutely zero fucks about something like that but somehow always ends up looking good ✨. And wait, idea for a follow-up headcanon! Zoe ends up having almost suspiciously big number of pictures of Vinnie on her phone because she tries to get a bad picture of him but just CaN't. "Zoe, why do you have like 200 pictures of Vinnie sleeping?" "Darling, shhh, it's not important."
omg that is also adorable, my boy eating his pancakes happily, sooo cute! And the eating till he pukes. Yeah, that's Vinnie, that's how I see it too. I imagine pancakes with mango would just make him so effing happy because it's basically just a combination of his two favourite foods
yes yes, and touch his elbow with it too. I mean, it's pretty reasonable to headcanon that or rather just headcanon him with a longer than average tongue since you know, lizards have long tongues and all that. But yes, this is my headcanon also. He can just do a lot of unusual things with his body
not only would he talk about them with pride, but he would show them off (sometimes even without being asked lol). And if they're on his arms then it's whatever, but imagine they're on his idk, chest or legs. And then he just starts removing his pants unasked. "Woah, woah, woah, what the hell are you doing? Stop taking off your pants in public!" "What? No no listen, I just have tattoos here, you need to see." Now that makes me also wonder if you have any specific ideas of exactly what tattoos he might have and what they mean.
ok ok yes, it makes sense, and he really does sometimes copies others, doesn't he? My favorite reason for him to do so is to fit in or because he thinks others are probably right so it's easier to just copy whatever they do. But also because he wants to be as similar to them as possible because they're the best and know better than he does. So yeah, he copies others to be more likeable to others (Tbh, according to psychology copying others' mannerisms does make them like you sooo.)
nawww, yes, I mean, it makes sense. And Sunil is just the only one allowed to know especially when he's sad, maybe really sad. I'd imagine that Sunil aside from different things also brings him snacks because he knows that Vinnie stress-eats and it helps him a bit. Though my Vinnie just does not open up to anyone because damn he does not deserve it, the little whiner
Ok, hear me out because I literally have the same headcanon, yes, he zones out a lot. But this one is honestly kinda canon-related? I mean the whole The Very Littlest Pet Shop episode was literally made in Vinnie's head like huh?? Well, not whole but most of it. Did you see how hard he zoned out? So yeah. My favorite part of this headcanon is probably that he just does that not to listen to somebody lmao. I mean, this is such a bastard move and I love it, "Yeah, I don't really wanna listen to this guy but walking off would be rude sooo," and then he completely zones out. I imagine he zones out a lot more when he's very sad, so he doesn't have to face the reality, he just puff! Not mentally there suddenly. However, I'd imagine others often catch up because they'd stop talking and wait for his reply and he's just standing there's motionlessly with gaze not exactly on them. And saying his name doesn't work either in those situations. Like you have to actually slap him sometimes in order for him to come back to reality. Once he does, he's completely bamboozled though because he has no idea what's been happening the last minutes. Also, because I have way too fitting clip I will link it here, because that's what it would probably look like
youtube
yeeesh, he is such a soda guy, that's true! And hey, good for him for looking still. To me he's not opposed to any alcohol but has ones that he likes more or less. But in general he prefers stronger stuff because they get him drunk faster and he's not drinking for the taste, you know?
oh my goodness, possessive Vinnie but with hedgehog Russell? Uh, heck ye. BitI just imagine that while Vinnie's all "baby Rusty" chanting Russell is just there with deadpan expression like "I'm literally a fully-grown hedgehog 😐". And while Vinnie's holding Russell he's all love and fluff: 🥰💕💖💗 but as soon as someone tries to take him away he hisses and is the exact opposite: 💀☠️🔥⛏️, he is NOT giving Russell back, he's his! He'll take him home and give him the best place to live possible, damn it!
oh yes, listen, being determined as hell is one of his defining characteristics for me at least, so if you give him a task he WILL do it. Kinda like with that always keeping secrets headcanon, he will keep it no matter what. Oh, but what was bro doing in that mall until Russell called then 😭. Just walking around aimlessly while completely zoned out I imagine. And yeah, if you consider that theadcanon with the headcanon that he often zones out it's not so surprising that he forgot what he was doing, is it?
yes yes, listen, yes. Like he's not stupid, but at the same time the facts he has are so random, he might not know something that is considered common knowledge, but will tell you in detail about something else related to this, and it will be so obscure. Wait, wait, I have a completely fitting for this too give me a sec, aaaand here:
instagram
see, this is exactly what I mean, he just seems to have random patchwork of knowledge. To his defence, I also have no first clue where that thing is, must be Americans thing, and I hate America so
no, but I imagine when Zoe first told him that it did the opposite because Vinnie thought "oh, cool! I get to pick stuff and I will have cool scars from it? Yes, please." ANaaand then it turned out it's not the "cool" kind of scars, welp but he can't stop it anyway, typical OCD behavior 😌. No no okay I'm not serious with that though... I'm pretty sure it could be considered it, but on its own it's not enough to say anything really.
ok, but I imagine he forgot the spare clothes a few times and then had to borrow clothes. And he loves borrowing clothes from his friends. Maybe a few times he even "forgot" on purpose, just so someone will give him theirs, like in that painting with Minka case. That also made me think... what if one day he didn't change the clothes and he was all over in red paint. And after that someone saw him just walking around like that, let's say Penny, and she's like "...Vinnie, um, why are you covered in... blood like that?" "Huh? Oh no, lmao, it's just paint, red paint." But she still drags him into her house so he can actually look decent because holy shit that does not look good as it is now
yes, exactly! Me and you truly think the same about him sometimes. He would. He'd shave his legs and as soon as he sees any or all of his friends the first thing he does is show off his now hairless leg proudly and they are just like "ok?" not understanding how that's special but he just insists they should touch that leg. Some... are more willing than others. Minka is very willing for example, hell yeah give her this smooth smooth leg to touch. It's not every day after all that she gets to touch someone else's leg like that, let alone Vinnie's because most of the time he doesn't care about body hair especially on legs and just lets it grow
this this this omg, you know already how much I love this one. Yes, yeeeesh, he loves back scratchies. He just absolutely melts because it feel so good and will do basically anything if you give him a good back scratch, the longer the better. Literally, he doesn't mind it going on for hours if possible, rad marks on his back after that be damned. He also likes that because he has more back pain than he cares to admit. So yeah, he just melts and tries to make it go on as long as possible. And being scratched by more than one person? Oh goodness, he might actually kill just to get it
to be honest, who likes being in wet clothes ahaha. Vinnie doesn't, that's for sure. And Pepper is such a certified pool thrower, she absolutely does that. Especially with Vinnie bc she knows that he won't actually be mad (for too long) and also just because it's easy to push his small ass into a pool or anything else. Also, that beach part, I can't help but imagine him just falling fully face flat but then he's so unhappy that he's all wet that he just lies there for a moment wondering why has God forsaken him
ok, hear me out, what if in some twisted-Vinnie-logic, he though that if holding onto it (like the four lea clover) will bring him luck, then what if he ate it?! Surely that will bring him more luck... right? Not penny though, he wouldn't eat that... well, actually... maybe he would
ah this, I love Sunil's parents basically being Vinnie's parents too because he pretty much does not have ones. This is just such a good headcanon for me argh, I love it. I mean, someone has to ensure Vinnie is still sane, someone who will also be parental with him. Yes, he's basically their second son and he loves it, he loves them so much and is so happy to see them. Video calls are one thing, but he's so happy when they visit in person and practically bounces in anticipation
ok, bit isn't it kinda hypocritical? The girls all gossip like nobody's business but when Vinnie does it it's suddenly bad? Nah, I think we should let him, even if it's about Zoe waxing her mustache. But also, Vinnie and Madame Pom? Why do I like this dynamic when I think about it? Like? Yeeeees, let them be. I say, let him gossip, but not with any of his closest friends, someone else though like Madame Pom or Esteban or Pete. Idk, I think he should actually.
Brooo of course this amount is okay, any is honestly, because if you send me less? Good cause I will reply faster. You send me more? Great, because I love reading them :]
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I don't think Mike is arrogant - he's just really talented, and really invested in his music, so things have to be "just so". And complex music might be easy for him, and lesser artists may read that as arrogance.
Also I think he bores easily: a lot of the banter is to shake things up, 'cause he's bored. And he likes audience participation, he likes to feel that energy, so if the audience is too subdued he provokes them into reacting.
About the grey-ace thing, my own personal interpretation is that he doesn't like to be objectified, and he doesn't like to be hit on constantly, while having to let people down gently, or extricating himself politely from awkward situations. He's not vain, he's not interested in being teen-heartthrob, abs-of-steel good looking. He may very well be into kinky shit, or just the energy he gets from the audience playing into it. The show is a show, you know what I mean? He likes theatrical self presentation, and he likes to keep some part of himself private.
You never get a creepy vibe from Mike - and he's an old man saying very inappropriate things while wearing S&M gear, if you think about it. But still, zero creepiness - he's not a leering lothario. You see him like that, and you think "Mike, what a guy, let me get him a piadina".
Ya, that's the thing....he's that good good mix of extremely talented but maybe a little self deprecating...in that he doesn't even quite know/believe how good he really is so it's a wonder that other folks can't as easily achieve the same level of perfection. Like....he just happened to meet and be friends with other extremely talented musicians in his podunk high school and that set him up to be disappointed often.
For sure he gets bored easily - and the tour schedule is such a grind...I think the only thing keeping him going, besides caffeine, big meals and maybe the odd porn binge, is that audience energy...if he's putting in all that work to fucking be there and be on, the least he can expect is to be fueled with either love or hate or an odd mix of both....and that's why, when the band gets booed (see DV and Sno-Core Bungle, or Tool-opening Tomahawk) Mike somehow seems even more on...that hate energy is potent stuff and I think he really does feed off of it, because hell, what else is he supposed to do? And putting his most extreme self out there also probably helps protect his personal private self.
Indeed the show is the show....every once and a while I bounce back to "nah he's probably some regular guy who is just private to the extreme - it's all an act." BUT I will say, that I think he actually is like...a little vain. Like, I think he wants to look good, but his definition of looking good is just a little off kilter, and also tempered by the fact that he knows if he really goes for it, he'll never know peace. And honestly.... I think that might be a bit of a struggle for him. I think he likes his fashion accessories, I think he likes his hair, I think he likes his scars, I think he likes being mostly peach fuzz. (If he wasn't at least a little vain, he wouldn't have shaved his widow's peak...my guess is that his hairline receded just a little bit when he turned 30 and he didn't like that his widow's peak might have accentuated that). I fully agree though that he hates being objectified - it's just funny to me that his response is to it all IS that hyper-sexuality.
And YES - it's so nuts how he can 100 percent of the time put out the non-creepy vibe. Golly, it's amazing really. AND if I was really getting into it, my thesis would be on how his lack of creepiness is what informs a lot of speculation over his sexuality. Like..if he WAS a leering lothario, there'd be no question that he's a cis-het fucking douchebag of a dude, but because he can somehow put out such sex-laced content without being creepy, it feels like there must be something "off" (not at all in a negative way, just that...it's more complicated that just cis-het). Ya feel me?
I want to get him a piadina so bad....so bad it turns out, that like...I found that there's this weird US chain of piadina shops and there's one in Raleigh I think?? And I literally was like....hm....should I get Mike one for the show??? But nah, bc, honestly, it's probably a shitty US chain version.
#anon asks#i feel like i have even more to type but my poor brain#and you poor people reading this shit#still loving this convo - i want to hear all the mike theories pls#mike patton
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WIP WEDNESDAY WHENEVER
I got tagged by @theviridianbunny thank youuu!
ART
The Kurt drawing I started a month ago is almost finished so I won't show that as a WIP again lol. But I settled on what I want to draw next already and I am way to hyped by the idea (Cyberpunk/Witcher crossover)
WRITING
I write quite a lot lately (or try to). Manly oc stuff because I managed to get obsessed with Alyona. Welp.
Her character introduction for my AU is halfway finished, but I am overthinking if it got a little to shippy (I didn't intendet that in the beginning but it just happened and I like it hehe). Maybe I make my shippy stuff into something extra and name it after the ship to keep the actual AU "cleaner" bc it's not that important for the plot. I don't know! I can't organzie my stuff!
Here's a preview of the introduction tho. For context: It's a backflash and around 2073, the business in Dtown starts to bloom and she comes for a visit to see what the Colonel came up with (try not to cringe by posting your writing but cringe anyway):
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A woman got out of the helicopter after them. Relatively tall, slim, athletically muscular, her short black hair was tousled by the wind, the sides of her skull were shaved short. She wore simple, military-style clothing. Cargo pants, lace-up heavy boots, a tactical leather jacket. Everything was kept in black and dark olive tones. If you didn't know any better, you'd say she was from here and it would be easy for her to blend in with the masses in Dogtown. One detail that made her stand out, was a multitude of thin scars that ran from the lower left side of her face across her nose and up to her forehead. Judging by the degree of healing, it was a very old wound. At least on the outside.
She walked confidently past her people, holding a bottle of clear liquid with an elaborately designed label in her right hand. Probably high-proof alcohol from her home.
After a few steps, however, she stopped abruptly and pushed the aviator glasses she was wearing down a little to look over the rim in disbelief and with a raised eyebrow.
"You look old, Kurt," she said blatantly, examined the man in front of her from top to bottom and continued to walk slowly towards the him, then took her glasses off completely and put them in the inside pocket of her jacket.
"It hasn't been that long since we last saw each other, has it?"
Her English was remarkably good when compared to other representatives from this part of the world who were usually up for business in Dogtown. However, she was unable to mask the slight accents common to the Russian language.
Kurt ignored her little teasing and tried to be professional.
"I'm glad you're here too." He couldn't help but welcome her with a thin smile." And it should be about half a year. The last time was in Laos during the negotiations."
Both slowly came to a halt in front of each other. Jago had followed the Colonel discreetly and kept to the background.
"That was six months ago already. Seems like I did good on suppressing the memories about that terrible place“, she answered shaking her head in disbelief.
"How was the flight?" he added tersely.
"Ah," she made a dismissive hand gesture. "Alright. I am getting used to traveling.“ She showed him the bottle she brought with her. „Here's your favorite. Don't worry, I've got more in the helicopter."
Without further ado, she pressed it into Hansen's hand.
For all the people standing by who were not yet familiar with Alyona and her way of dealing with Kurt, this whole encounter must have seemed incredibly strange. They all only knew him as the undisputed authority figure and nobody, except at most his old brothers in arms, would dare to talk to him like that. And even there were limits.
Alyona finally looked with interest at the man standing behind the Colonel.
„And who is the cute little cat? I don't think we've met yet.“
Jago's features froze completely and he didn't think he had heard correctly.
"The cute little... EXCUSE ME?" he replied with audible outrage in his voice.
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And I still NEED to write her fucking lore down. I think I got it togehter by now.
VP (new to the list)
Just started to activly making pics on my console and would like to come up with a little series in the future maybe.
Atm I try to make pics for a fun Discord Challenge where I have to show a single day in the live of my V. Since I am still obsessed with a certain disctrict I thought I make it a "Dogtown Days"- Edition. I struggle with the limited set of poses but I'll figure something out.
Yea think that's it for now. I still have so many ideas for a lot of different things but I have to restrain myself and finish some things first before I get lost in my WIP-Limbo.
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