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astralis-ortus · 7 months ago

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agent(s) of chaos

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— there's a reason why you love game nights with your boyfriend's second family.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing (i think? it's just hints), the chaos that is ot8 stray kids, one time jump, and reader is referred to as baby! no gender specific attributes mentioned aside from reader's hair being soft, heh a.n → based on this request! not gonna lie, i actually got a slight headache from imagining the chaos throughout the fic lol even in my head they're /that/ loudㅠ heh ⋆ see masterlist

game nights with your boyfriend and his friends might not happen often; but once they all come together and get the event date set?

oh, a (good) chaos will definitely ensue.

“goddamit—chan hyung! get your eyes on the game!”

“yeah! go get it, seungmin!”

“felix you bronze—step on it! catch up!”

a collective of cheers and disappointed groans were imminent as soon as yoshi, seungmin’s character of the night, crosses the finish line; leaving dry bowser and baby mario—which respectively belongs to han and chan, in second and third place. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought the boys were just competing in some major mario kart competition.

“wah chan hyung—you’re seriously so bad at this!” changbin loudly protests—to which you genuinely thank yourself for pushing through with the rented villa agenda—while throwing his head back against the sofa in desperation. lee know, their other unfortunate teammate on the other hand, is busy pretending to box against your cackling boyfriend, having a string of ‘sorry’s falling from his lips.

“argh!” switching his target in desperation, changbin immediately puts his hands together and faces you with his attempt of salvation. “please switch teams with me! i can’t do this any longer! he’s so bad!” he pleaded, nearly earning himself a thrown nintendo controller on the head from chan if it wasn’t for your swift hands, snatching the heavy plastic from your pouting boyfriend. Well, not that you mind though, considering how adorable your boyfriend looked while he sulks.

“yah yah yah—changbin hyung!” seungmin intercepted—and if you know something about the kim seungmin, then his iconic multiple-hit comment is about to pop off. “no one told you to be so bad with rock paper scissors anyway!” the younger pointed out, a smug grin etched across the span of his face, “that’s why you ended up with chan hyung!”

“hey!” your boyfriend was the first to react, pointing at the smug younger one—and of course, it’s not changbin if he didn’t follow suit.

“yah! you prick!” huffing and puffing, changbin was quick on his feet as soon as seungmin stuck out his tongue, further provoking the curly haired male while he ran away—only to fish more of changbin’s loud shouts after the younger. “yah kim seungmin! come back here!”

series of laughter follows the disappearance of the two; to which everyone know by heart now, is also the best time for the rest of the kids to take their water and bathroom break—and alongside that, also became the best time for chan to finally take a proper look at you.

“you’re still good, baby?” the switch in his demeanor made you giggle as you lean into chan’s warm touch on your cheek. despite having witnessed the shift countless of times, the way chan’s voice became very soft when he spoke with you never fails to make your heart flutter. “it’s almost 1 am, aren’t you sleepy yet?”

“i’m good,” a smile follows your simple answer whilst your arms found their home around your boyfriend’s waist, snuggling closer to his warmth while chan lifts your legs to cross over his lap. “can last at least 2 more games, i think. besides, i drank some of the coffee jeongin brewed earlier, remember?”

chan’s exaggerated sigh along with his usual disapproving head shake ignites another set of laugh within you, fishing another pout to appear on his plump lips. “knew i shouldn’t have trusted jeongin,” he dramatically piched his nose bridge, trying to look as disappointed as he could. “he’s part of the bad peaches club after all.”

“i heard that!”

jeongin’s resounding shout from the kitchen startles both you and chan—causing your laughter and chan’s to grow in volume. “not sorry!” chan’s reply simply earned a grunt from the younger, not wanting to further continue the discourse while he’s busy arguing with hyunjin about who can get their hands on the last can of beer in the fridge.

“but anyway,” chan’s gaze softened as they returned to you, running his fingers mindlessly in your soft hair, “tell me whenever you feel sleepy, okay? we’ll go to bed right away.”

“i know,” an exaggerated sigh left your lips as you immitate your boyfriend’s previous antics, “this isn’t my first rodeo, you know?” you snickered as you playfully stuck out your tongue—which in turn only further cause the adoration in his chest to bubble.

oh, how he wish you’re all alone right now. he’d immediately tackle you into a cuddle and plant several dozens of light kisses across your face and neck—but he must resist. after all, he wouldn’t want the kids to tease you over something like that.

“gosh, you’re so annoying,” he hummed, lips betraying him as it formed into a massive grin across his lightly flushed cheeks, “think you’ve been hanging around the kids too much. i should keep a schedule for your visits from now on.”

“nooo!”

4 round of games and 20 minutes later, another wave of commotion returns as the race for second place—since first place has again been coveted by the representative agent of chaos, the kim seungmin—ensues between lee know and han.

“han jisung! step on it step on it!”

“lee know hyung! shi—why are you getting as bad as chan hyung!”

“yah! baby, tell—“

chan’s words immediately died down in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on your peacefully sleeping face—plea to defend himself from his kids vaporized and replaced with a soft thump in his chest. You looked so peaceful with your head resting against his shoulder—a massive contrast to the chaos surrounding you—and chan could feel his heart swell. you looked so cute; especially with your fingers wrapped tightly around the controller seungmin had just handed you a few moments prior.

had you been fighting off the drowsiness all along?

carefully pulling you into his lap, chan smiled as he gently peeled the controller off of your hand before dropping it directly onto hyunjin’s unsuspecting lap, startling the younger.

“ya—“

“shut it,” chan hissed between gritted teeth, easily pulling hyunjin’s focus from the chaos happening on screen and to you—who immediately nodded his head knowingly when he realized what’s happening.

“yah lee min—ow! what was th—oh.”

chan’s next target was changbin—who immediately received a slap on the back instead of chan’s quiet warning. it’s rather effective, however, considering outside of the two current players, everyone now has their eyes on you.

“keep it quiet—if my baby wakes up because of any of you,” chan eyed every single one of his kids, not even caring how severe the teasing he’ll receive by the daylight will be for whatever he’ll be saying next,

“i’m not gonna let it slide.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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Your Pre-Outbreak Joel Fics lives rent free in my head 🥵

Would you ever write something about Joel maybe working you over like real gentle but til your an overstimulated mess with lots of praise and pet names? Asking for a friend 🥺

this....might've gotten out of hand but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 1.6k

summary: If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it.

warnings: overstimulation, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, darlin', sweet girl, honey), dirty talk, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, oral (receiving), newly found bdsm dynamics, dom/sub undertones, piv, creampie

A shudder of pleasure ripples through you as Joel's soft lips engulf your aroused nipple. His fingers expertly bring you to the brink, his moans of delight mingling with yours as they echo through the room. The sensation of his dark curls brushing against your chin tickles you. His thumb circles around your sensitive nub, intensifying the pleasure until you're overwhelmed. He gazes into your eyes with a smirk, his teeth lightly grazing your nipple as he brings you to unimaginable heights.

You have no idea how long it’s been since he pushed his fingers inside your sopping heat. Every stroke mind-numbing and torturous. He moves them slowly, curling and scissoring them when he’s knuckle deep. A soft whimper falls from your lips when his mouth trails down your breast, biting into the swell of it.

“So wet for me,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ perfect. You take my fingers so well sweetheart.”

He drags his nose up the column of your neck, lips touching your ear as he speaks. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes flutter closed.

“I want to try somethin’” he mutters, pulling his fingers out of you and dragging them up your torso. The wet trail chills with the air of the room. “I got you a gift.”

“A gift?” you ask, your eyes fluttering open. “What gift?”

Joel presses his lips into the corner of your jaw and moves away, his hand still on your body, he reaches into the drawer. He pulls out a small box.

“Before I give it to you promise me you’ll say no if you don’t want to,” he says, averting his gaze. You smile at the way red blossoms over his cheeks.

“Promise.”

If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it.

You blink rapidly, your brain not able to comprehend what you’re looking at. They’re quite simple in shape. Two clamps are connected by a chain; you also notice that the clamps have two small bells attached to them. Immediately your brain conjures up images of him fucking you while having them on, the jingles filling the room.

Your blood simmers under your skin, arousal sticky and thick on your tighs.

“Do you…like’em?” he mutters, his fingers finding the apex of your thigh. “We don’t have to use them. I just—you like it don’t you? When I play with your nipples? I thought you might enjoy’em.”

“I do,” you answer, breathless. Lifting your eyes, you meet his gaze. “Oh, I definitely do. I’ve never tried them before but I want to.” you cup his cheek, slick with sweat. “Thank you.”

“To be fair it’s for my benefit too,” he grins, all that uncertainty gone. His voice confident. “I love how you clench around me when I pinch them.”

Smiling, you shake your head and push the box into his hands.

“Well then, put them on.”

Looking away, you sit up and pull your arms back, your palms flat on the bed. You try not to think too hard about how exposed you are. You expect him to put them on right away, your nipples tingling with the imaginary sensation of the clamps. But instead, Joel rests his palm on top of your breast, holding it gently, feeling its weight. Your lips part with a heavy breath. He smooths his thumb over the peak and squeezes.

The other one receives the same treatment, it feels like time has gone still, leaving only you and him to do whatever you pleased.

Finally, you feel cool metal and a soft jingle circling your nipple. He doesn’t use it yet, he leans in and sucks the pebbled flesh into his mouth. Sucking it eagerly. You fist the sheets, your entire body shaking as his tongue flicks over your aching nipple. You shudder and he lets go with a pop.

“Ready?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his wet lips.

You nod and Joel squeezes the peg open. He closes it around your already sensitive nipple, you gasp as a jolt of pain shoots through your body. His hand is a soothing presence on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your skin. He’s watching you. You feel his gaze raking hot and searing your skin. He repeats the motion and closes the clamp around the other one, you moan this time.

“Feels good?” he rasps, his pupils blown wide.

“Feels amazing.”

Joel pushes you back down to the bed, he spreads your legs wide and settles between them. His breath is warm and heavy on your gaping sex. He presses kisses into the lips of your pussy, tongue delving between them. Your back arches, your toes curling at the feeling. A soft jingle echoes. You’ve already been worked open with his fingers with the promise of his cock, you need him like you need air.

You moan and thread your fingers through his hair, wanting to pull him on top of you and give you his cock instead. He growls into your cunt, a harsh bite delivered into your inner thigh. You jerk away but his hands pin you still. His fingers trace the cool metal of the chain and tug on it—hard.

“Fuck!” you gasp, the pull of your nipples making you see bright stars. “Joel, please—”

“Behave darlin’,” he coos. “You’ve been doin’ so well for me. Let’s not get carried away now.”

“But—But—!”

He tugs on the chain again, albeit more gently this time. Slick trickles down your folds, your eyes rolling back. It feels so good. Without even thinking, you roll your hips in a desperate attempt to seek out his lips. Joel gives you what you want, tugging on the chain occasionally as he devours you.

“My needy, sweet girl,” he mutters, his voice muffled. “You’re doin’ so good, honey. So patient for me. You can’t wait to take my cock, huh?”

You nod eagerly, your orgasm a hot coil tightening in your stomach. Your nipples ache, a pleasure mixing with the pain. They feel swollen and hot whenever Joel tugs on the chain. Your mind blanks every time, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come in my mouth and you can have my cock. I’ll fuck you with them sweet bells jinglin’, I’ll hold onto you so tight that it’ll take a week to get rid of my fingers prints—Fuck—So sweet.”

He fully buries himself into you. Inhaling your scent like a man unhinged. Your head falls back, the whisper of his name falling from your lips again and again. He tightens his hold on the chain and your thighs close around his face. His tongue laps at you with fast, firm, strokes. Your body is simply his to play with. You love being at his disposal, love when he takes care of every inch of your body.

Your orgasm carries through you like a wave, cresting and crashing into every part of your body. Joel’s tongue continues to lap at your clit, pushing you higher and higher. His free hand moves up your body, cupping your breast and tugging on the chain. You cry out, pleasure and pain inextricably linked together. Your hips buck, desperate for more of his touch.

Suddenly, Joel’s tongue withdraws, leaving you panting and desperate. You feel him move away and your eyes flutter open. His eyes are heavy with desire as he kneels between your legs, his cock hard and ready. You reach out, wanting to touch him. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, using your wrists to anchor you to the bed.

“Stay still sweetheart,” he rumbles, his voice low and throaty. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

Joel moves forward, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. You shiver and moan, feeling the jingle of the bells as he moves. He takes his time, pressing forward inch by inch until he is fully seated inside of you. You gasp, the warmth of him completely enveloping you. He doesn’t move, letting you adjust to the sensation of him being inside of you.

So deep. So thick.

Eventually, he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in slow, steady strokes. The bells jingle with every move, the sound driving you wild. You moan and grind against him, matching each thrust with one of your own. He responds, increasing the intensity and force of his thrusts. Your breathing grows shallow, your second orgasm building with each thrust.

Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me, honey,” he whispers, his voice full of need. “Wanna feel you tight around my cock.”

The words are all you need to push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. You scream out his name, your body spasming. Joel grunts and his thrusts become more erratic, his own orgasm taking over. He collapses against you, his cock jerking inside of you as fills you to the brim.

You feel the warmth of it, a sensation that sends a thrill through your body. You feel his seed dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets underneath. His arms wrap around you and he presses a soft kiss to your neck. His breathing is hot against your skin, his lips trailing gentle kisses against your throat.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still ripple through your body, each wave pushing you further into bliss. Your heart is pounding and your body is humming with satisfaction. Joel pulls out and rests his forehead against yours, his gaze full of love.

He pulls out and rolls to the side, taking you with him. The soft jingles follow. He wraps you in his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead. You smile and snuggle closer, feeling safe and content in his embrace.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what?” he asks, his voice full of sleep.

“For this,” you answer, gesturing between the two of you. “For the gift. For everything.”

He smiles and pulls you closer. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #young!joel miller x reader #pre outbreak!joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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thebettybook · 1 year ago

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(Chapter 2) A Spin on an Enchanted Tale

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, fem!reader, Gabriella O’Hara, Lyla (Lyla’s a human in this AU)

Chapter 2 summary: My Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader AU inspired by Disney’s Enchanted (2007). After taking Miguel O’Hara (a 31-year-old single dad who doesn’t believe in fairytales) up on his offer to stay in his home, reader (a princess cosplayer in their late 20s) wakes up to a somewhat-new life with Miguel and his adorable five-year-old daughter Gabriella

Warning: None, an all-fluff story, enjoy~

Spanish used (I used SpanishDict): Papá (Dad); Buenos días, Papá (Good morning, Dad); Gracias, Papá (Thank you, Dad); Porque eres, mi solecita (Because you are, my lovely sunshine); Mierda (shit)

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 {below} | Ch 2.5 | Ch 3 {in progress}

The buttery rays of morning autumn sunlight slipped through the curtains and danced onto your form, gently waking you up. You cracked an eye open and turned over to grab your phone from the nightstand.

It’s…only six a.m?!

You put down your phone and let out a groan, fighting the urge to go back to bed and pull the covers over your head.

It was one of those rare days where your body would wake up too early on its own, and it was probably because you subconsciously remembered that you were staying in someone else’s home.

You made your way to the window, parting the curtains and lifting up the window.

The chilly Monday air greeted your skin, but you didn’t mind it. The faint beeps from taxis and chatter from people throughout Nueva York below filled your ears. Even though you should be used to the entire city being awake 24/7 by now, the hustle and bustle of Nueva York never ceased to amaze you.

What do I do now?

You couldn’t just go downstairs and make yourself breakfast; it felt wrong to use Miguel’s kitchen as a guest. You weren’t even sure if Miguel wanted you to eat breakfast with him and Gabriella.

He seemed pretty skeptical of you last night, which was understandable, so it was probably best to try to stay out of his hair as much as possible. Especially since you were now staying in his home for free.

Breakfast can wait; I can buy something in that cafe across the street later. You had $200 in your bank account—not enough to rent an apartment, but enough to buy yourself meals for the next week or two.

And with that, you nodded to yourself and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

In the bathroom, you couldn’t help but jump a bit when you saw your reflection in the mirror. You almost forgot you were wearing Miguel’s comfy t-shirt and sweatpants. I need to change out of these.

After brushing your teeth and taking a shower (and re-wearing Miguel’s shirt and sweatpants since you had no clean clothes to change into), you made your way to the folded pile of clothes Miguel gave you last night that you put on the study desk by the window.

T-shirts, dress shirts, sweatpants…None of these, as nice as the materials of Miguel’s clothes were, were suitable for you to wear as day outfits.

Your fingers then paused on a sky blue cotton dress shirt. You took it out of the pile and held it up to your body, the end of the shirt reaching way past your knees.

A lightbulb went off in your head. I can make a dress out of this!

You set the dress shirt down on the desk and went over to your suitcase, taking out your bag of sewing supplies and beloved sewing machine.

“Chip,” you practically sobbed, hugging your ivory sewing machine with the sewing supply bag on top as you lugged both to the desk. “At least I have you with me.”

“Chip,” which you affectionately called your sewing machine, came from the sewing machine’s brand “Chip Sewing Brand Inc,” though you liked to think “Chip” stood for:

Costume Making

Hemming

and Everything In Between

for Princess Cosplayers

After setting Chip down on the desk, you sat down on a sleek black swivel chair in front of the desk. You smoothed the cotton fabric of the shirt across the desk before taking out pink fabric scissors from your bag.

An upbeat, incoherent tune escaped from your lips in a hum as you spent the next few hours cutting, pinning, seam ripping, folding, sewing, and hemming.

With how big Miguel’s dress shirt was on you, you were able to cut some extra scraps from the shirt. There was one part of the shirt that you especially wanted to save for later: the left breast pocket that had a crimson spider logo embroidered on it. The pocket gave you the idea to incorporate it as one of two lower side pockets on your dress.

As you turned to the left to set aside the shirt scraps, the corner of your eye caught a movement by the window. A pigeon fluttered its gray and periwinkle wings, landing on your windowsill.

“Hello, there,” you smiled at the pigeon, who cooed at you in response. “You’re welcome to stay and watch me sew if you’d like.”

You could call yourself crazy for talking to a pigeon who couldn’t understand you, but your smile only grew when the pigeon stayed on the windowsill and looked at you as if to wait for you to continue sewing.

Your hums, the pigeon’s coos, and soft whirs from your sewing machine soon filled up the room. You spent about the next half hour sewing on shoulder straps and using the other scraps from the shirt to make and sew two pockets on either side of the dress just below your stomach area.

“And…done!” You turned off your sewing machine and took the dress off the table. Before you could get up to go change out of Miguel’s pajamas and into your new dress, you noticed a flock of fluttering movements on the windowsill.

There were not one, but five pigeons on the windowsill now, all cooing in unison.

“I see you’ve brought your friends,” You cocked your head to the side at the first pigeon, or at least you thought it was the first pigeon that came to your windowsill. You weren’t really sure; they all looked the same. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go try on my new dress.”

You rushed into the bathroom and slipped out of Miguel’s pajamas, folding them neatly and setting them aside on the marbled vanity before slipping into the dress.

A smile bursted on your face once you saw your reflection. The dress-shirt-turned-dress boasted a sweetheart neckline and shoulder straps that you tied into bows on your shoulders. The pockets (with one pocket having the former shirt’s crimson spider logo embroidery) also added a cute touch to the dress.

For a dress that was made in two-ish hours, it hugged all the right places while still being comfortable and easy for you to move in.

“All in a morning’s work,” you grinned at yourself in the mirror, turning around to see the dress at different angles.

Oh! Speaking of mornings… You adjusted a bow strap on your shoulder before darting out of the bathroom to pick up your phone on the desk.

…I need to text Nancy.

Nancy, the owner of the princess party cosplay business you worked for, was the type of boss who was kind and understanding but also no-nonsense when it came to business.

After you typed and sent a message to Nancy about losing your apartment and asking for extra princess party cosplay job opportunities, you placed your phone into one of your pockets.

You then turned around, noticing the five pigeons that continued to rest on the windowsill.

“You’re all still here? I suppose you all liked that song I hummed earlier, huh?”

The pigeons answered you with a collective coo that sounded like a “yes” from them, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“All right, I’ll sing it again.”

You began to sing the song from earlier, trying your best to keep your voice soft in an effort to not wake Gabriella and Miguel in case the walls were thin.

The song you sang was a princess song with lyrics about being happy while doing whatever task you were doing, and it was always your go-to song every time you worked on a new sewing project.

The pigeons joined in on your singing with their cooing, and you began twirling around in your new dress while the pigeons bobbed their heads.

You became so immersed in singing with the pigeons that you didn’t hear the doorknob of your room turn. The door opened just enough for a certain five-year-old to peek her head into the room.

“Good morning, Princess Y/N!” Gabriella flung the door wide open, running over to you and encasing your legs in a big hug.

You halted your singing and bent down to greet Gabriella. “Good morning, little one!” you returned her hug, noting how adorable she looked in her light blue unicorn-print nightgown and pink bunny slippers. “Did you just wake up?”

“Mhm, I wanted to see if you were actually here! And I’m glad that you are!”

It was impossible for you to not smile more at Gabi’s words. Despite all the uncertainties and events since yesterday, you found yourself truthfully replying, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

You straightened up with Gabriella, and she tugged on one of your hands. “Princess Y/N, can you help me brush my teeth? Papá isn’t awake.”

You took out your phone from your pocket and checked the screen, which read 8:10 a.m. You didn’t know when Miguel usually woke up, but from what Gabi just told you, it sounded like he usually woke up earlier.

“Are you going to school today, little one?” You let Gabi lead you out of your room and into the hall to the main bathroom.

“Yeah!” Gabi hopped onto a little stool in front of the sink area, and you flipped the light switch of the bathroom on. “I’m gonna tell my friends that I’m friends with a really pretty princess!”

“Aw, I’m flattered,” you gushed, putting a hand to your heart. “Now, can you show me where your toothbrush and toothpaste are?”

Gabi nodded, pointing to a gold toothbrush holder by the sink. You noticed two toothbrushes: one sparkly rainbow toothbrush for kids, and a larger blue-and-red toothbrush with a Spider-Man logo.

“That’s mine,” Gabi pointed to the sparkly rainbow toothbrush. “And the Spider-Man toothbrush is Papá’s.”

You couldn’t help but quirk an amused grin at learning that Miguel had a Spider-Man toothbrush, of all things. He pegged you as the type to have those boring gray toothbrushes.

“Ok, I’m going to show you how to put toothpaste on your toothbrush,” you took Gabi’s toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste from the toothbrush holder. You opened the cap of the toothpaste tube and then held Gabi’s toothbrush and the toothpaste tube in front of you. “Watch carefully.”

Gabi nodded vigorously. You squeezed a centimeter of toothpaste onto Gabi’s toothbrush, leaving some empty space on the toothbrush for Gabi.

“Ooh, I wanna do it now!” Gabi held her hands out to you as if you showed her how to make a unicorn out of clouds or something.

You handed her the toothbrush and the toothpaste tube, and made your way behind her to support her small arms with your hands. “You don’t want to squeeze the toothpaste out too hard, or a ton will come out and we don’t want that.”

Gabi nodded, adorably poking her tongue out as she concentrated on squeezing the toothpaste onto her toothbrush. The toothpaste made a little toot! sound as it came out from the tube, making the both of you giggle. “Look, I did it!” Gabi held up the toothbrush to you.

“Great job, little one,” you returned her smile. “Now I’ll help you brush your teeth.”

You made your way to stand next to Gabi, and you looked into the oval mirror in front of the two of you. “You want to brush your teeth like this,” you mimicked small circle motions with your hand in front of your mouth.

Gabi copied you, brushing her teeth. “That’s it,” you nodded, and Gabi beamed up at you with a mouth now full of minty toothpaste.

After helping Gabi to finish brushing her teeth, you tidied up the sink and Gabi hopped off of the stool. Just as the two of you were about to exit the bathroom, footsteps approached the door and the door opened to reveal Miguel.

The Miguel before you was a Miguel who looked completely different from the put-together man you met last night.

This Miguel wore a plush navy robe over a white t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants. His chestnut waves clung to his forehead and stuck out in all directions, and his feet were adorned with giant pink bunny slippers that matched Gabriella’s.

“¡Buenos días, Papá!” Gabi ran over to Miguel, hugging his legs. “Princess Y/N helped me brush my teeth!”

Miguel blinked as if he was just waking up, before addressing you with barely a glance. “Thanks, but I got it from here.”

“Of course,” you awkwardly shuffled out of the bathroom, feeling like you overstepped a boundary by helping Gabi brush her teeth. Miguel didn’t even cast another glance your way as you made your way to your room.

He’s probably just being protective of Gabi. You nodded to yourself as you went into your room and perched at the edge of your bed. We’re all still strangers to each other, after all.

You gave a half-smile to the five pigeons who still lounged on your windowsill before taking your phone out from your pocket to scroll through job sites for any extra jobs you could apply to.

You kind of lost track of time as you searched and bookmarked job opportunities, because about fifteen minutes later, Gabi stumbled into your room once more.

The child was now dressed in a white uniform polo t-shirt, a knee-length khaki skirt, and rainbow unicorn socks. Miguel followed behind her, still in his robe and with his messy hair. In his hands were a hairbrush and a sparkly hot pink hair tie.

Instead of going to you, Gabi ran over to your windowsill. You were surprised that the pigeons weren’t alarmed and simply stayed on the windowsill as Gabi marveled at them.

“Gabi insisted that she wanted me to do her hair here,” Miguel explained. His hickory orbs landed on you for the first time this morning, but instead of his eyes landing on your face, they landed on your outfit. “Wait, is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I woke up early and didn’t have any clean clothes so I decided to make a dress out of one of the shirts you gave me. I hope that’s ok.” You shyly stuck your hands in your dress pockets, feeling self-conscious.

“Uh…yeah. That’s ok. Remind me to teach you how to use our laundry room later,” Miguel averted his eyes from yours rather quickly. His eyes then landed on the five pigeons still resting on the windowsill. “Pigeons?”

Miguel strode over to the windowsill, waving his hand to shoo away the pigeons (who flew off into Nueva York with annoyed coos) before shutting your window.

“Aw, Papá,” Gabriella whined, turning around to look up at Miguel. “The pigeons wanted to stay! You should’ve seen them sing with Princess Y/N.”

“Sing?” Miguel’s thick eyebrows lifted, before furrowing in doubt as he turned to look at you.

You simply stared back, confused on why he seemed confused. Surely singing pigeons weren't the most odd things Miguel had encountered in Nueva York.

Instead of saying something about how singing pigeons didn’t exist, Miguel cleared his throat and turned back to a disappointed Gabi. “Uh, well, maybe they’ll come back later.”

A smile formed on your lips at Miguel’s attempt to make his daughter feel better. Miguel then surprised you once more by repositioning himself to sit criss-cross on the floor.

“Princess Y/N, sit with us!” Gabi hopped into Miguel’s lap and patted the empty floor space next to Miguel.

“Alright,” you chuckled, though you hesitantly made your way off the bed and to Miguel and Gabi. You crouched down, sitting and leaving a pretty good chunk of space between you and Miguel. However, Gabi took your hand and pulled you closer to her and Miguel.

He didn’t say a word, his hands full with the hairbrush and Gabi’s hair. The sparkly pink hair tie rested loosely between his lips. As if it came second nature to him, Miguel gently and expertly brushed Gabi’s thick brunette hair and gathered it into a neat ponytail.

“There you go,” Miguel planted a kiss on top of Gabi’s head after securing her ponytail with the hair tie.

“¡Gracias, Papá!” Gabi tilted her head up to kiss Miguel’s jaw, and you wanted to melt then and there at how cute the father and daughter duo were. Gabi hopped off of Miguel’s lap and made her way over to you. “Princess Y/N, how do I look?”

“Like the prettiest princess in all the lands, little one,” you gave Gabi a wink as you stood up, not caring if your princess compliment would elicit an annoyed huff from Miguel or something.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to see Miguel stand up with a soft smile on his face as Gabi beamed even more at receiving your compliment.

“Did you hear that, Papá? Princess Y/N called me the ‘prettiest princess in all the lands’!” Gabi threw her hands back in the air as if you just made her day.

“Porque eres, mi solecita,” Miguel stated as if it was an undeniable truth. “Wait here with Princess Y/N, I’ll go get ready and then I’ll make us all breakfast.”

You let out a surprised “pfft” at Miguel calling you “Princess Y/N” as he made his way out of your room and into the bathroom in the hall. Before you could turn to Gabi, a voice made you almost jump.

“Miggy, Gabi, I’m here!” A woman’s voice, which sounded nothing but fun and playful, rang from downstairs.

“She’s here!” Gabi crowed, taking your hand and leading you out of your room once more.

“Who’s here?” You didn’t even have time to blink as you let Gabi lead you to the top of the staircase. The child let go of your hand, running down the staircase and into the arms of the mysterious woman who stood in front of the elevator that led into the penthouse.

As you descended the staircase, you got a better view of the woman. She looked around Miguel’s age yet had a fun sense of style. Her chestnut bob, transparent pink heart sunglasses, tan boots, and cream mink coat worn over a white blouse and khaki slacks all complemented each other. In her hands was a paper bag with small grease stains at the bottom.

From the way Gabi enveloped the woman in a big hug, and the way the woman called Miguel “Miggy,” you couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was Gabi’s mom, and/or Miguel’s partner, or…

“Auntie Lyla!” Gabi calling the woman “Auntie Lyla” broke you out of your thoughts.

“How’s my favorite O’Hara doing?” The woman, Lyla, gave Gabriella a huge squeeze.

“Great! Papá and I took a princess home with us!” Gabriella beamed up at Lyla.

“Oh?” Lyla winked at Gabi as if Gabi just told her that Gabi got a new princess toy or something. Lyla then caught sight of you a few feet away at the foot of the staircase. Her eyebrows flew up in genuine shock. “Oh!”

“Hi,” you tentatively made your way towards the two, extending a hand to Lyla. “I’m Y/N, a princess party cosplayer, and I’m staying with Miguel and Gabriella for the time being.”

You were nothing but surprised when Lyla gave you a strong handshake but had the kindest smile on her face. “Nice to meet you! I’m Lyla, a long-time friend of Miggy’s, but I like to call myself the cooler younger sister he never had.”

Lyla seemed fun and sassy and you liked her already. Lyla seemed to like you already, too, from the way her smile turned into a wide and mischievous grin. “So Miggy finally found somebody, huh?”

Your eyes practically widened out of your sockets. “Oh! No, no, no, it’s not like that,” you waved your hands, shaking your head profusely. “I just met Miguel and Gabriella last night, and Miguel was kind enough to let me stay here.”

“Ohhhh,” Lyla blinked, cocking her head to the side in confusion. “How did you all meet?”

“So kind of a long story, but I got kicked out of my apartment for being behind on rent after coming back from working at a children’s party in princess cosplay,” you let out in a rush, barely believing that all that happened to you in less than twenty-four hours. “I was sitting on a bench and suddenly this little one came up to me.”

“Yeah! I found Princess Y/N!” Gabriella rested her hands on her hips proudly.

“I’m sorry about you getting kicked out, that sucks,” Lyla expressed her sympathy to you before her curiosity took over once more. “Wait, how did Gabi find you?”

“Well from what I learned yesterday, she ran off from Miguel when they were getting ice cream,” you answered, absentmindedly pulling one of the slipping bow straps back onto your shoulder.

“You did?!” Lyla’s eyes widened in shock, turning to Gabi before holding out her palm for a high-five. “Nice!”

You laughed as Gabriella—who didn’t really understand—high-fived Lyla anyways. Before you could talk with Lyla more, the sound of footsteps making their way down the staircase filled the living room.

The three of you looked up to see Miguel, who looked more put-together now than he did a few minutes ago. His chestnut waves were gelled back, making his thick eyebrows and sharp jawline look more prominent. He was dressed in a form-fitting white dress shirt tucked into gray slacks.

“Don’t encourage my daughter, Lyla,” Miguel frowned, though his attention was on the navy tie he was fastening around his neck as he reached the foot of the staircase. “And what are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too, Miggy,” Lyla propped one hand on her hip. “Did you forget I was taking Gabi to school today?”

“Huh? Since when?” Miguel mumbled, his frown deepening in confusion as his eyes snapped up from his tie to look at his friend.

“Since you told me last week that you would need to go to work a bit earlier today for an important meeting,” Lyla replied in a “duh” tone. “So you asked me to take Gabi to school today.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw went slack. His eyes then flew down to his watch. “8:45 a.m., mierda,” a curse word slipped from Miguel’s lips, and Lyla instantly used her hands to cover up Gabi’s ears.

“Breakfast,” Miguel mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to make breakfast.”

“I got you covered on that,” Lyla held up the paper bag in her hands. “I bought breakfast bagel sandwiches! They were selling four for $4 so I got four. Thought four would be too much but now it seems perfect.”

Lyla winked at you, and you shot her a grateful smile. Lyla seemed like she’d be a good friend, and you hoped that you would get to know her more.

“Perfect, thank you,” Miguel walked into a little study room near the kitchen to get his things.

“Auntie Lyla, can you please help me tie my shoes?” Gabi took her lavender light-up sneakers from the shoe rack and sat down on the floor.

“Of course,” Lyla sat down on the floor across from Gabriella to tie her shoes.

You sat down next to them, watching as Lyla tied the shoelaces on Gabi’s shoes. “Can I ask you something, Lyla?” you rested your face in your palm.

“Yeah, shoot,” Lyla finished tying up Gabi’s shoes and stood up, making you and Gabi stand up as well.

“How long have you known Miguel and Gabriella?” Your question was one of genuine curiosity.

“I used to work as Miggy’s assistant for years until I started my own fashion magazine company, though I’ve been helping him out here and there with Gabi ever since she was born,” Lyla gave Gabi a loving side hug. “Wait, you’re into fashion, right?”

Before you could answer “yes,” Miguel came back to the three of you with a brown leather satchel crossed over his torso and Gabi’s pink princess school backpack dangling on one of his arms.

Lyla took that as a cue to hand two breakfast bagel sandwiches to you, one for you and one for Miguel.

“We’ll eat these on our way to your school, ok?” Lyla winked down at Gabi, who nodded up at her aunt.

“Walking while eating can be dangerous,” Miguel grumbled at Lyla as he bent down in front of Gabriella, helping her put on her backpack.

“She’ll be fine, Miggy,” Lyla waved her hand dismissively.

“Remember to—,” Miguel began.

“—cross the streets safely, look both ways, I know, I know,” Lyla rolled her hazel eyes at Miguel. “You know I’d never let anything bad happen to Gabi.”

You knew Miguel was overprotective of Gabi, but now you were seeing more instances of how much overprotective he could be of his only child. It made sense a bit to you, since it seemed like Gabi was Miguel’s only constant family member.

Miguel let out a huff before planting a soft kiss on Gabi’s forehead. “Have a good day at school, ok? After I pick you up and we eat dinner, I’ll take you out for ice cream like I promised.”

“Yay, ice cream!” Gabi’s warm brown orbs glittered at the mention of ice cream. She lunged forward, hugging Miguel’s neck. “Bye, Papá!”

After a few seconds of hugging her father, Gabi let him go and ran over to you.

“Bye, Princess Y/N!” Gabi threw her arms around you as you bent down at eye level for her. “I wanna get ice cream with you and Papá after dinner!”

“Have a fun day at school, little one,” you gently booped Gabi’s nose with your free hand while your other hand held the two sandwiches. Your action made Gabi giggle as if she was sprinkled with fairy dust.

You were too occupied with saying “bye” to Gabi to hear Miguel and Lyla chat with each other, until you glanced up and saw Miguel shooing Lyla into the elevator with a mildly-annoyed expression on his face while she had a mischievous smirk on hers.

“C’mon Gabi, let’s go,” Lyla called to Gabi as she stepped into the elevator, ignoring Miguel. “Your dad’s being grumpy since he hasn’t eaten breakfast yet.”

“Bye Papá, bye Princess Y/N!” Gabriella waved to you and Miguel and ran into the elevator to join Lyla. “Make sure to eat breakfast, Papá! It’s the most important meal of the day!”

You made your way to stand next to Miguel, the both of you waving to Gabi and Lyla before the elevator doors closed.

“I usually tell her that,” Miguel hummed, his eyes soft. “And somehow it’s now the other way around.”

“She’s a good kid,” your own gaze was soft as you and Miguel continued to look at the closed elevator doors.

“She is,” Miguel replied with all the love and pride for his daughter.

You then turned your head to Miguel. “So, uh, do you want me to stay here until you and Gabi get home? Or if you want me to get out of here while you’re at work, I can just walk around the city and look for another job or something.”

“You won’t be able to get into this building again if you go out, come back, and I’m not there,” Miguel made his way over to the shoe rack and bent down on one knee to put on his black dress shoes and tie the shoestrings.

“Ah, right,” you stayed put. “So should I just stay here then?”

You weren’t sure what you could do in Miguel’s home by yourself other than eat the bagel sandwich Lyla gave you, wait for Nancy to text you back, and look up more jobs on your phone.

Plus, you couldn’t even wash your clothes until Miguel taught you how to use his laundry room.

“You can come with me to work,” Miguel looked over his shoulder to you while securing his shoestrings before straightening up. “I’ll get my assistant Ben to help you find a job somewhere.”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Despite your shock and confusion, you went over to the shoe rack to slip on your sneakers. You also felt curious about finding out about Miguel’s job from the way he mentioned he had an assistant.

Miguel nodded, pressing the button next to the elevator. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped in.

You scurried into the elevator, the two breakfast bagel sandwiches in your hands. “Here,” you handed one to Miguel. To your surprise, he took it but placed the wrapped-up sandwich in his satchel.

“I’ll eat it after my meeting,” Miguel brought his left wrist up to look at his watch again.

You peeked at his silver watch, which you noticed was a state-of-the-art smart watch with a gold-and-orange screen. On the screen read the time: 8:51 a.m.

“You sure?” You blurted, concerned for Miguel but also not wanting the lengthy ninety-nine-floors-down elevator flight to ensue in painfully-awkward silence.

Miguel’s eyes flitted to you, and before he could open his mouth, a rather angry rumble erupted from his stomach.

The two of you averted your eyes from each other, Miguel doing so to pretend his stomach didn’t make such a noise and you doing so to save him any embarrassment.

However, you found yourself speaking up once more.

“Miguel, I don’t want to overstep, but like Gabi said, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” you gave him a tiny smile. “Plus, we have some time. There’s still like…eighty floors left.”

He looked at his watch again, and you peeked over to see that it was now 8:55 a.m. Miguel let out a sigh of frustration, but he dug his hand into his satchel and took out the breakfast bagel sandwich.

“I should’ve chosen a shorter building to live in,” he grumbled, before unwrapping the sandwich and biting into it.

“Maybe,” you chuckled, before unwrapping your own sandwich. Miguel let out a huff, but his lips quirked into the beginnings of a smile.

50…30…The elevator ride down to the lobby was still long, and while you and Miguel both ate your respective breakfast bagel sandwiches in silence, it was a comfortable silence.

MIguel finished his sandwich by the time the elevator descended to the 20th floor, and you were just about done with your sandwich as well. You then turned to Miguel in an effort to start some more conversation. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Miguel raised a brow at you.

“Did you…sleep well last night, Miguel?” You noticed that the eye bags he had under his eyes last night were completely gone, and his entire face seemed a bit more relaxed now.

“Huh? Oh,” Miguel blinked as if he didn’t expect you to ask him that. “…Yeah, I did. Did you?”

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise; you weren’t expecting Miguel to ask you that, or ask you anything, really. “I did, too. I ended up waking a bit early but it wasn’t because of the bed or the room or anything. Everything in the room is just wonderful.”

In an effort to voice your appreciation to Miguel for him letting you stay in his home, you didn’t realize you sounded optimistic and dreamy like a princess.

“Wonderful,” Miguel murmured. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you cocked your head to the side, not even aware that your action made you look more princess-like.

“Do you always sound like a princess or is it just to keep an act for Gabi?” Miguel rested his palms on his hips.

“Do you always sound like a pessimistic man who wears pink bunny slippers and owns a Spider-Man toothbrush?” You shot back without thinking, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Look, I’m just saying that I appreciate it when you do it for Gabi, but you don’t have to keep up that act around me when Gabi’s not here,” Miguel crossed his arms in front of his chest, mirroring your stance. “And for the record, Spider-Man toothbrushes are cool.”

“It’s not an act, it’s called optimism.” Instead of mirroring his furrowed eyebrows and mouth set in a straight line, you raised your eyebrows a bit and shot Miguel a smirk. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Miguel opened his mouth as if to make a comeback, but the elevator interrupted him with a Ding!

You waited, expecting for Miguel to step through the elevator first so that he could rush to work while you followed him. Instead, he stepped forward to the side.

“After you,” Miguel reached an arm out between the opening of the elevator to keep it open for you. His gentlemanly gesture shocked you, especially since he basically accused you of being fake five seconds ago.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you decided to give him a quick and comical curtsy in an attempt to get back at him before you stepped through the elevator.

You made your way to the glass exit doors. Miguel strode up to you as you tossed your sandwich wrapper in a trash can near the door and he followed suit. He then placed a hand on the handle of the exit doors, but before he could push through them, he looked at you.

“Are you ok with speed-walking?” Miguel asked you.

You arched an eyebrow. “Sure, I’m wearing my sneakers. Are we going to speed-walk to the subway?”

“No, we’re going to walk to my workplace since the building I work at is just a couple of streets down,” Miguel replied before opening the door for you. “We don’t have time for curtsies.”

“I wasn’t going to curtsy this time,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest once more as you made your way outside.

Before you could look back at Miguel and blink, he strode past you. Thankfully, before you could register what happened, your feet followed after him.

So much for being a gentleman!

You speed-walked into the street that led out of Miguel’s apartment complex and the others surrounding his. Miguel was a few feet further ahead, and you were thankful he was as tall as he was so that you could see him and follow him.

As you sped past pedestrians and street vendors, you barely heard them shout at you to get out of the way or to check out their merchandise.

“A sunflower for the beautiful lady!” An elderly male florist selling bouquets in the open street held out a single sunflower to you.

“Oh! Thank you, but I can’t accept that for free,” you stopped in your tracks.

“Nonsense, these are going to wilt soon,” the elderly florist gave you a kind smile. “I’d rather give them away than have to throw them away.”

The sunflower, warm as sunshine with its golden petals, as well as the florist’s kindness, made you feel hopeful to find a way to continue living in Nueva York. As you took the flower from the florist and opened your mouth to say “thank you,” your eyes caught sight of Miguel walking back to you.

“What are you doing?” Miguel narrowed his eyes down at the flower in your hands as if it was laced with poison.

“The kind florist gave it to me,” you held the flower close to you indignantly.

The florist held out another sunflower to Miguel. “And one for the beautiful lady’s beau.”

Your and Miguel’s heads snapped to each other and then to the florist at the same time.

“Miguel’s not my—,” you began.

“They’re not my—,” Miguel blurted at the same time, before shaking his head. “Let’s just go.”

“Thank you for the flowers!” You gratefully took the sunflower that the florist offered Miguel before walking up to Miguel’s side.

Miguel glanced at the two sunflowers in your hands before fixing his gaze straight ahead. “You know you can’t accept things for free, right? Especially in Nueva York.”

“I know that,” you let out a sigh of exasperation at Miguel. “It’s just that the florist told me they’d rather give these flowers away than throw them away because they’re wilting soon. I think it would be a shame to see such pretty flowers go to waste, too.”

Miguel looked at the sunflowers again. “Gabi’s favorite flowers are sunflowers,” Miguel’s voice, which previously had an edge of stress, grew soft once he mentioned his daughter.

“I can give her one when she gets home,” you hummed, smiling even more at the thought of giving Gabi a sunflower. You put the two sunflowers gently into one of your dress pockets for safekeeping.

Miguel’s face softened a bit, and he pointed down the street. “We’re almost there.”

You weren’t great at memorizing the many streets, districts, and boroughs of Nueva York, so you wondered how it was possible Miguel’s workplace was only a few streets down from his apartment complex.

All you knew was that the area surrounding Miguel’s apartment complex had one side that led down several streets to an area with restaurants and shops, near where Miguel and Gabi met you last night.

And the other side, where you and him were headed, you weren’t too sure. But as you were greeted with corporate skyscrapers, you were beginning to have an idea.

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the front of a silver skyscraper with sky blue glass panels. The building, with its state-of-the-art pointed architecture, was so tall and imposing that it reminded you of Miguel in a way.

The building was also so famous even you knew what it was. You whipped your head to Miguel as the two of you walked up to the front doors. “You work at Spider-Society HQ?”

Spider-Society HQ, based in Nueva York, had risen to fame in recent years as an innovative company focused in the scientific fields of genetics and physics.

You didn’t know anything about the company other than that, and now seeing the discreet crimson spider logo on the doors, you realized it was the same one on your dress pocket from Miguel’s shirt.

How did I miss it? You looked down to your dress pocket that had the building’s logo on it. To be fair, science companies and their logos were never at the forefront of your mind.

Miguel scanned the screen of his watch on the key panel. The green light on the key panel indicated its recognition of Miguel, and soon the building’s front doors slid apart with a gentle hiss!

He straightened his tie before stepping into the building with you. You quickly noticed that Miguel exuded an air of professionalism and even regality—like a king ready to take on the weight of his kingdom.

“Technically, I’m the Chief Executive Officer of Spider-Society HQ.”

🍓 Strawbetty’s notes: If you read all the way to here, I give you a 🎃 cuz it’s Halloween season lol. Also thank you to @animusicnerd for proofreading this chapter throughout the two months I’ve been writing it 🫶

🍓 Tag list: @allysunny, @charms-cat, @tymns, @tayleighuh, @moyo5653, @sizeablysized, @deputy-videogamer, @marvelofcourse, @flordelalunas, @thethirdyo, @sleepingghoule444, @eyes-stuff, @pearlssdiary, @lasagnaisbest, @scaleniusrm, @cowboylikeevie, @qiaipia, @prettysbliss, @rosesforblues, @lionhearted-soldier, @usermins, @happishark, @pedroslvt, @saintcosette, @tarjapearce, @rositabluemoon, @miaasmf, @sarapaprikas-blog, @honeyslibrary, @eatalyy, @arithestrawberry, @x-ratedhimbo (I love ur Itto pfp!!), @spideystar, @pollito-chicken, @mimiemie, @mireading. If you would like to be added to the tag list for upcoming chapters, please comment or reblog below :)

Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :). Want more Miguel content? Check out my masterlist.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #gabriella o’hara #atsv lyla

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namazunomegami · 9 months ago

Text

Atonement

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie

WC: 5.3k

Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕

Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.

A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork

It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.

Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.

Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.

“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.

He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.

Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.

“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”

Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.

“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”

You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.

“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

This… was a bit too far, you must admit.

You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.

“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”

A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.

“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”

You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.

“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”

You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.

Hold on…

You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.

Did he just… no, it can’t be.

He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.

But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.

It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”

“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”

Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.

“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”

You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.

“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”

The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.

You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.

“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”

His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.

“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”

A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.

“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”

His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.

The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.

“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”

You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.

“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”

Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.

“This is not your cross to bear.”

He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.

“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”

He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.

Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.

Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.

“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”

All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.

I’ll keep an eye on you.

It’ll keep an eye on you.

You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.

“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”

You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.

“I promise.”

You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.

You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.

You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.

“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.

“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.

“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”

Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.

“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.

And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.

In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.

The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.

There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.

You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.

“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.

“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”

And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.

The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.

And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.

This is what real worship looks like.

When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.

He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.

“Since when were you so reckless?”

His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.

“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.

Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.

You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.

The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.

And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.

You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.

“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.

And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.

Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.

You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.

But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.

You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.

He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.

Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.

But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.

You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.

“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.

Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.

And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.

“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”

No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.

“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.

There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.

“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.

His words cause anger to bubble up in you.

“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.

“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.

“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.

“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.

Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.

“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.

“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”

He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.

“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.

Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.

His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.

His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.

“And what do we say when we apologize?”

The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.

“Forgive me.”

You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.

Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.

His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.

He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.

And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.

“I forgive you.”

Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.

He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.

“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”

“I know. But you love me all the same.”

You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.

Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.

But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.

And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.

“Is your hand alright?”

He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.

He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.

And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.

You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.

“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.

“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.

“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #meesa writes #DAAARLING GUESS WHOS COME BACK FROM JAIIIIL #Idk what kind of deep psychological issue of mine is in that fic but now its your job to decipher #just please dont bring Freud into the picture I hate that man

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battorlstuff · 1 year ago

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Rival Treatment - Epilogue

David managed to rent the basement of the building. The heating in the place remained on all the time to torture Philip.

David looked pleased at Philip. His coach's friend had left 4 months ago, but David wouldn't stop screwing Philip's life and body.

"685 pounds Philip I really have turned you into a fucking pig"

"Look at you, you're disgusting and weak. You're barely able to breathe."

Philip couldn't even speak anymore even though his mouth remained open while he panted, Philiph drooled all the time, saliva dripping down his morbid body joining the sweat and fading to his skin.

"Camille doesn't even remember you, I doubt she recognizes the pig you are now anyway"

"You'll never get out of here. Although I would love for Camille to see you like this, she always said you were so handsome and that your athletic body was spectacular. What would she say if she saw how disgusting you look now, you fucking obese pig?"

"But now it's lunchtime Philip!"

David pulls the collar and chains on Philip's neck. He really doesn't want him to lose a single calorie from the effort, but it's wonderful to see how he puffs just by standing up and taking a few steps.

David forces him to walk and sees how the morbid body of his former rival shakes and sweats non-stop from the effort.

It takes Philip almost 20 minutes to get to the other side of the basement and it is torture for him. Philip knows the routine well and falls on an old mattress, David approaches and lifts Philip's head by the back of his neck so that he can look at him, he smiles and the obese boy's gasps resonate.

Then David places a kind of funnel in his pig's mouth. The funnel connects with a hose and this to a strange machine with a tank and in turn the machine filled the tank through a pipe that came from David's apartment.

David closed his fist and began to punch the huge belly of his former rival.

"I told you I would make sure you got fatter and fatter."

"You're almost at 700 pounds Phil"

David ran his fingers between Philip's reddened rolls of fat, smiled as he remembered his rival's amazing abs and saw and felt the flabby belly that hung and swayed to his knees. David admired the stretch marks and began counting Philip's sweaty rolls of fat.

"54 bulging rolls. Very good Phil, three more rolls than two weeks ago!"

"I just want that disgusting belly of yours to keep growing even though your face also looks pretty deformed now."

"Look, what you have there looks like 4 or five double chins, I can't even see your neck, much less is there a trace of your sharp jaw, eh stud?"

"Oh Philip, you were so handsome, but now I can barely see your eyes between your fat cheeks."

"Your hair still looks good. I could do something with your hair too, should I Philip? What do you have to lose, you're already fat and ugly anyway, you'll never be that handsome, beefy boy you used to be."

David went out and got some scissors, approached his fallen rival and began to cut the hair of the boy who was choking while he was fed non-stop by the hose.

"Fuck, no one would believe me if I told them how handsome you used to be, you were such a hunk and I ruined you."

David left a horrible haircut, in some places he looked bald, as if a child had pulled out and cut his hair.

David pulled at Philip's uneven hair, pulling out a few more strands, and he just stared at him as he continued to swallow through the funnel.

____________________________________________

Soon Philip reached 700 pounds to the satisfaction of David who enjoys watching his rival panting and motionless.

Buried there under pounds and pounds of disgusting fat was his rival who used to make everyone drool and brag about his incredible muscles and his attractiveness.

His incredible abs were long gone, he went from a six pack to over 60 sweaty, disgusting rolls, from his strong pecs to moobs that hung like bags of fat, David believed Philip's nipples might touch his pelvis if he didn't. out for his huge belly which holds his flabby moobs.

"You were an arrogant, conceited idiot, always bragging about your own body. Well, looking at your obese body in these mirrors is a good punishment for you, you thought you were so hot and that all of us wanted to see your fucking perfect physique. But I prefer to see you like this, I love seeing how fat you've gotten and having seen you lose every inch of your fucking muscles Phil."

"Every chance you had, you took off your shirt and showed off your damn muscles and those fucking abs you had. I'll make you stay eating in front of the mirrors. I don't think you even want to see your damn flabby reflection, huh? But I like it"

"I love seeing how your muscles have been destroyed and how they are buried in kilos and more kilos of fat."

"I won't stop Philip, I don't care if you reach 800 or a thousand pounds, you moron, I won't stop ruining your body as much as I can, I don't care if you can't move anymore or can barely breathe. I'll make you eat more and more, you're a pig, my fucking pig, do you hear me?"

Philip could only moan even with the funnel in his mouth.

"Ohhh how clueless, let me take that away from you

"Now I want you to say it."

Philip could barely speak as he caught his breath and some noises and burps came out of his mouth, so he said it.

"I'm a pig, a fat and ugly pig"

David's smile grew bigger as he heard Philip's weak voice.

"Oh but you're mine you know? You belong to me say so"

"I am your pig, you are my owner David"

"Do you think I'm better than your Phil?" David lifted his shirt and flexed his incredible six pack and biceps mockingly.

"You are better than me David, you are better, you have a hot body and I'm just a fatass"

"I think you're fat and disgusting, right?" David shook his flaccid stomach, Philip, still looking at him.

"I'm fat and disgusting, I'm an obese pig" one slap to his stomach and Philip's belly jiggled for several seconds.

"You were 175 pounds of beefy muscle, how much do you weigh now Phil? I told you before I put the funnel on you this morning, remember?"

"Weight 743 pounds"

" 743 pounds damn! I still remember when you got on the elevator and flirted with Camille in front of me, son of a bitch. You strutted up to us and pressed the button for the top floor in the elevator, remember? I must admit that I was so jealous of you, I envied your attractiveness. I hated how good you looked in your white collared shirt and I hated the most the way Camille looked at your marked muscles through the sweaty shirt, I think you should have even done push-ups before arriving, your arms and torso were too pumped. It didn't matter that I was there, I think you even took the opportunity to show me off and show off your beautiful body in my face"

" You took off your shirt and smiled, flexing your incredible body, practically letting her touch you and caress your pecs and abs. Meanwhile I was still standing like an idiot watching a hot bastard steal my chance with Camille, but now look at you, all that's left is a pathetic fat fucking pig".

David just wanted to laugh out loud when he saw the tears in his rival's eyes as David kneaded his fat here and there, squeezing his flabby arms and thighs, pinching his moobs and poking his tummy as he laughed and made sounds imitating to a pig.

#male weight gain fantasy #weight gain story #gaining fiction #gaining weight #exjock #you getting fat #you got fat #Rivals Treatment

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xo-arcie · 25 days ago

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paring: Ayame Sohma x Kazuma Sohma warnings: tooth rotting fluff author’s note: This is a repost of a drabble and drawing that dedicated to my beloved @feralchattylurker 💜 This was inspired by the Fruits Basket au that lives rent free in my head that I swear I will write one day.

Ayame pouted. “It is such a shame, really. You would have had the prettiest hair if only you would have just taken care of it.”

He was standing over Kazuma, his fingers combing through the freshly trimmed edges of his dark hair while his other hand held silver scissors. It curled at his shoulders, still drying from the wash he insisted on giving Kazuma before he started cutting it, and with the split ends gone, it was already so very soft.

Kazuma hummed at first, turning another page of Shigure’s latest book. “I think the real shame is that I did not meet you sooner so you could have shown me how to take proper care of it,” he responded with his teasing tone, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes that did not lift from the pages, but Ayame saw how they formed with the same smile that often swept him from his feet.

Kazuma continued, unaware of the molten gold gaze that burned in the back of his head. “But I have you now, and this will grow back,” he finished.

Ayame held still, brown tendrils still curled around his fingers. This is how it always was, and despite their time together, he found it still rattled him: this kindness that Kazuma carried with his cadence, his simple actions, and how it slowly cracked through the coquette mask he wore for the world. It was startling in the beginning, but that was before he could comprehend Kazuma’s genuine nature.

It still left Ayame flustered pink and his visceral reaction sparkled in Kazuma’s dark eyes when he noticed.

But right now, his focus was on the printed romance in his hands. Burning bright, Ayame decided that he would dare tease Kazuma back. He bent at his narrow waist until his chin hovered Kazuma’s shoulder, pressing close until his lips tickled his ear. “Well then, I think we should cut it even shorter so you can showcase your sexy jawline,” he whispered, his teeth nipping.

Kazuma’s smile spread in response, but he never faltered. His reaction was fluid, smooth like silk as his thumb bookmarked the page he was on while his other hand wrapped around Ayame’s elbow, the heat of his palm pooling through the fabric of his sleeve and rooting him. Kazuma turned his head, pulling him closer to capture his lips, his kiss the embodiment of everything Ayame loved about him: gentle, always careful, and so very warm.

It always had a dizzying effect and Ayame felt his blood searing to the surface.

Kazume pulled away, his smile still in place and his dark eyes relishing the red that now stained Ayame’s cheeks. “Whatever you think is best,” his voice was low and he tilted his chin up to place another chaste kiss to Ayame’s lips. “I trust you.”

Ayame already knew this, but he would never grow tired of hearing it.

misc. fandom masterlist

#fruits basket #fruits basket fluff #fruits basket fanfiction #fruits basket fanfic #fruits basket fanart #fruits basket 2019 #furuba #furuba fanart #furuba fanfic #ayame x kazuma #kazuma x ayame #ayame soma #ayame sohma #kazuma soma #kazuma sohma #my art

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aerialrentals · 10 months ago

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Aerial Equipment Rental

Address: 121 W 36th Street. New York, NY 10018

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mtandtgroup-blog · 7 months ago

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What is Scissor Lift? It's Using Benefits & Risk

Mtandt offers best Scissor Lift in India . Mtandt designs, develops and manufactures material handling equipment, loading dock equipment and Scissor Lift tables, both custom and standard. Mtandt has become India's leading suppliers of quality material handling systems and equipped with a consistently high customer service.

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kdawn0201 · 1 year ago

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Next project (as soon as the wind dies down) - a "barn quilt" for the side of the shop. There are a number of these throughout Green Bluff, and I have always wanted one. Plus we have that big blank brown wall to work with. These 4 metal panels are vinyl coated like street signs and will attach to the metal building via a few vertical furring strips. We will also use a temporary leveling board along the bottom to keep things even and hold the weight while we work. Probably need to rent a scissor lift (it's pretty high at the peak) - should be interesting, esp. given Steve's latent fear of heights

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puckettrents · 2 years ago

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COMPACT TRACK AND MULTI TERRAIN LOADERS - Corporate Housing

All of the traction and flotation benefits of tracks are available with Cat® Compact Track Loaders and Multi Terrain Loaders. With a variety of undercarriages available, you can select the machine that best suits your needs. To know more visit https://puckettrents.com/new/products/equipment/compact-track-and-multi-terrain-loaders/ or call us at 601-939-5151.

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rmnerectors · 2 years ago

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Lifting Machine Rental in Nashik

RMN Erectors is a marketplace chief within the discipline of Lifting Machine Rental in Nashik, India serving experts who work at heights in any kind of industry. We provide a huge variety of which includes, scissor lifts, Truck Mounted, Man Lift, Diesel Forklift. RMN Erectors make it hard for our clients, providing for Rental Lifting Machine, to work quickly and at any height. It's far from the main employer that surfaces in this context on a normal basis.

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purplesurveys · 2 years ago

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1603 - happy new year’s eve eve!

Have you done any of the same things as me? [2022 Edition] by joybucket

experienced something amazing and miraculous? 🤩 I’ve experienced amazing things like getting a new dog, seeing the sea, having profound conversations with a few Grab drivers, etc; but nothing miraculous mainly because I don’t believe in miracles.

switched to a new primary care doctor? I don’t even have a main doctor.

tried a new medication? 💊 Yes. When I sprained my ankle, the Good Samaritans who helped nurse my foot also gave me these capsules to take every 8 or so hours.

felt afraid to leave the house? Yes - that time in July when there was a shooting in Ateneo. My family was out that day and that scared me more, but I was staying at home at the time and thought under no circumstances was I going out that week. Kaye actually invited me to dinner NEAR THE DAMN PLACE and I had to tell her girl did you not know people literally got killed 8 hours ago? lol.

had a new neighbor move in? I can finally answer this question with a yes, lol. We didn’t have any nearby neighbors for at least like a decade, but in 2022 there was a family who moved in across us; the abandoned house beside ours also finally got renovated and another family is I believe currently renting the place.

met a new neighbor? I haven’t. We usually keep to ourselves but for the family who moved in across us this month I am thinking of sending them a little something.

read the entire Bible? 📖 I haven’t touched that book since high school.

had a smoothie that tasted really, really good? 🍹 I don’t like smoothies. I did try this great mocha nut latte earlier this month and discovered how fantastic chocnut works with coffee.

had some significant health issues? Other than my sprained ankle, my carpal tunnel syndrome acted up quite a bit this year.

made a lot of surveys? I’ve never made a survey.

taken a lot of surveys? Like any other year.

gave yourself a significant haircut? 💇‍♀️ I always have my hair professionally worked on, whether it’s a trim or dye job. I do not trust myself with a pair of scissors for anything haha.

discovered a new YouTube channel you really liked? Earlier this year I found Institute of Human Anatomy, who I bingewatched for a while. Bea also got me into Korean Englishman/Jolly. She’s been trying to get me on the train since 2021 actually, but it was only this year when my attention was finally caught.

discovered a new favorite book? 📖 I didn’t have any major book discoveries this year.

re-read a book you really liked? 📖 I re-discovered Midnight Sun when I found it in our storage (after thinking my mom threw it out), but I didn’t re-read it per se as I never finished it in the past.

debated reaching out to someone and asking for prayer, but didn't? 🙏 I do not ask for prayers, at least actively. People tell me they pray for me which is always appreciated as I know it must mean a lot for them to do so; but it’s not something I would take the initiative to ask for.

started taking a new birth control pill? I have never taken birth control.

experienced anaphylaxis? Nope.

...and then had to be on Prednisone for three months because of it? Nope, I don’t have regular medications.

gained weight from a medication? I didn’t.

...and then lost some of it once you were off the medication, but not all of it? I didn’t.

discovered you had steroid-induced diabetes? Nope.

daydreamed a lot? 💭 Probably, yeah.

had overdue library books? 📚 I haven’t been to a library, much less borrow a book, since pre-pandemic college, so no. I’ve always been terrible at returning books though and I always get that Look of Shock from librarians when they see the total of my overdue charges LOL so you were at least right about that.

worn a mask? 😷 Just about every time I’ve gone out! The government has lifted mask-wearing for both indoor and outdoor areas so technically we have the choice/freedom to go maskless now, but people in Manila are rather paranoid and prefer wearing a mask still – I do, too. Provinces though, I’ve observed that they are much less cautious and people hardly wear masks there anymore.

worn a mask when cleaning, because you're allergic to dust mites? 😷 I’m not allergic so I don’t wear a mask. I sneeze a lot though, lol.

went days without washing your hair? A few times, yes.

felt overjoyed one day and then depressed the next? It happens.

thought about how much you missed going to church? ⛪️ All I think about is when I can finally stop going, so no.

thought about how much you missed painting? 🖼 Yeah, a little bit! I had some paint-by-numbers stacked in my closet for a while - they were 2021 Christmas gifts that I never got around to sending out lol, and I was always getting that voice in my head asking what the fuck I wanted to do with them.

....and thought about how you'd like to start painting again? 🎨 Sure. The resolution to that ^ is that I finally pulled one of the packs out and started painting. Just this December, actually. I plan on continuing the template for the rest of the company break/shutdown.

found out that someone got hit by a car and died while crossing a street that you cross all the time? I unfortunately saw the aftermath of a very graphic motorcycle crash on Christmas Day, and that dude I saw with his face down was most likely a casualty. I don’t pass the area all the time, just whenever we head south; but it was still spooky nonetheless. More sad than spooky though, considering a family’s gonna have to find out they lost someone on Christmas Day.

enjoyed watching the snow fall? ❄️ I have never seen snow.

wished you had a car? 🚘 I already do.

talked to your mom on the phone? 📱 A few times, but they were always 15-second calls where either of us just ask the other something urgent.

talked to your mom online? 💬 Yeah, whenever she’s at work we communicate through Messenger.

realized none of your bras fit you anymore? Nope, they all still work just fine.

received a package in the mail? 📦 I mean this year was no different and I still bought stacks upon stacks of K-pop merch lol, so yes I did receive packages a handful of times.

started watching Youtube Shorts regularly? Oh I irrationally hate those. Trying so hard to be IG reels/TikTok lol when YouTube’s strong suit has always been longer videos.

practiced self-hypnosis? 😵 No, I don’t believe in hypnosis.

discovered a new food you really liked? Not food exactly but my mom got this tub of local vinegar called pinakurat that is SO good; works with any Filipino breakfast food. I ask for it all the time now.

discovered your bike had a flat tire? 🚴 Not my bike but our car! Happened on our way back to Manila from Zambales. We were a mere hundred meters away from the expressway (where my dad would’ve gone 90-100 kph) when we heard a loud pop. The place we got stuck at (Subic) is notably a safer city than other provinces so it was such a welcome surprise seeing Good Samaritans all over the damn road momentarily stop by and offer help – even more amazing was that the vice mayor of the city happened to drive by at the time and immediately stopped where we were to give tips about what we should do, where to go, who to talk to, etc. In the end, my dad was also able to get a lift from another Good Samaritan to the nearest vulcanizing shop to get the whole thing settled.

Touching show of humanity, but at the same time also gave me some sort of existential crisis because fuck knows what would have happened had we reached the freeway and had the tire pop there instead.

made a new playlist of songs you really liked? 🎶 My sister and I made a few Blended playlists on Spotify but that’s about it.

got rid of a ton of old clothes? 👚 Not yet at least. But I’m planning on gathering clothes I know longer use and giving them to Reena to sell, all profit hers. Poor girl got scammed 20k recently and I just want to help.

ran/walked a Christmas-themed race? 🏃‍♀️ You will never find me in a race/fun run/marathon haha.

watched your city's Christmas parade? We don’t have one.

enjoyed eating salads? 🥗 Just tuna sashimi salads.

enjoyed eating chocolate pie? I’ve never had chocolate pie.

celebrated Thanksgiving alone? I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.

celebrated your birthday alone? I wasn’t alone. I was with my family on the day of; that same weekend my friends and I set off to Zambales for a quick beach trip.

didn't really have a good birthday? No, I had a fantastic one this year.

almost died multiple times? Apart from the time I had a bad fall in the bathroom and could have cracked my skull if not for the instinct of tucking my head, no.

enjoyed reading the Bible? 📖 I never enjoyed reading it and have no plans of touching one again.

danced around your living room? 💃 Sure, a few times.

written in cursive? ✍️ Yeah I practiced every now and then so that my penmanship doesn’t get rusty.

written in a journal? 📓 I have this account. I don’t write in journals because my mom is likely to snoop around.

written in a one-line-a-day journal? 📔 No, I don’t really do that when I have whole-ass surveys to fill out haha.

accidentally dropped a dish and broke it? Not a plate. But just this month my dad and I were unloading groceries when I dropped a tub of mayonnaise LOL. Luckily enough my dad got the one with plastic packaging that day, so the only thing that got damaged was the seal. Had we gotten the variant with glass packaging I would have gotten a mouthful.

went for a walk through the cemetery on Halloween? We went to a columbarium on All Souls’ Day (pretty close to Halloween, so I’ll count it) to visit my grandpa.

not brought your camera with you somewhere, and then wished you had? 📸 Not necessarily but I’ve had my phone die on me when I was at the beach wanting to take photos of the sunset.

discovered a new really good book? Nope.

read a book with a character named Simone in it? I did not.

had a doctor get irritated with you? Nah. I went to a couple dentists this year and they couldn’t have been nicer.

had a doctor not believe you about something? Nope.

broke out in acne all over your face? I had a few pimples show up here and there. I wouldn’t call it a breakout though.

found out one of your friends had COVID? 🦠 Yeah. People are still getting Covid all over the place but it’s no longer as bad or feared about as it used to be. “She got Covid” is just about as scary as “She has a fever” now.

wondered if you had COVID? 🦠 Every time I come home from being in an overcrowded place. Never got it though.

played Mahjong on your phone? 🀄️ I don’t even know how that works, so no.

used a lot of emojis? 🦄 🤪 💃 I use emojis frequently, but always the same ones. I have little use for the majority of them.

wore a cheetah-print mask? Nope.

worshiped God? 💃 Nooooooooooooope.

uploaded some new photos to Facebook? Yes, when Kimi passed I uploaded photos of me and him, photos of his urn, and Cooper and Agi standing beside the urn. I also always uploaded post-concert photos at the end of all of BTS’ online shows this year.

sorted through some old photos on your computer? Yeah, a few times.

wondered why your fridge was making funny noises? It didn’t.

gone for lovely and enchanting walks in the fall? 🍁 We don’t have fall.

wore the same outfit for days? Like, without washing? Eugh, hahaha. No. I do repeat outfits but I make sure it’s been like a month since I last wore a particular top-bottom pairing.

worn slipper socks? I didn’t this year.

gone out to eat with your parents? I took them out for dinner, just the two of them, earlier this year; but for the most part they prefer me to take the whole family out i.e. including my siblings, if I was going to give a treat.

enjoyed looking at your friends' baby pictures on Facebook? None of them have kids.

wondered what one of your friends was going to name her baby? We talk about it all the time.

wished someone would invite you to church, but no one did? Not applicable.

took more medication than you were supposed to when you were in severe pain? Not necessarily but I did take some desperate measures when I was dealing with wisdom tooth pain, pre-extraction. I strapped a cold compress to my face and also rubbed Katinko hoping it would feel numb.

wished autocorrect didn't make so many annoying errors? Well, not really. I just turned it off because autocorrect is an utter bitch when I’m typing in Filipino.

wished your cramps would go away? Don’t we always wish they would, when they do come?

enjoyed having a conversation with a random stranger while waiting in line for something? Not while waiting in line, but whenever I take a Grab on the way to a destination. I always make it a point to make conversation with my drivers because 1) everyone else probably wants a silent ride and I can’t imagine how lonely the drivers feel driving strangers all day, and 2) you wouldn’t believe the amazing conversations that can sometimes come out of those moments.

wished you could see your cousins more? Yeah, especially cousins on my dad’s side.

thought about how much you used to love church? No.

had a certain traumatic incident keep coming back to haunt you? Not so much, no.

debated trying to get to know your neighbors more? Sure.

not eaten anything sweet on your birthday? This is true! I don’t really like cake, so I never planned on getting one made.

....for the first time ever, since you normally eat cake on your birthday? Nah, I’ve had a few birthdays with no cake.

eaten a lot of mango popsicles? I’ve never even had one.

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